Sunday, January 31, 2010

Butterflies, Estrogen, and Drama, Oh My

After reading all your comments from the last Letter of Intent, I want to take this opportunity to thank ya'll.. Thank YOU!!! Ya'll rock...

But lets not make it a bigger deal than it was. In a follow up E-mail to Daddy Bub, Rach shared this little tid bit of intel.

"It was a brutal week at work - some people don't know how to *breathe* without drama. And men are only equipped to handle one female drama at a time, right?"

the nugget of that being...

And men are only equipped to handle one female drama at a time, right?

The men being plural, but really meaning singular in this sentence.

and the FEMALE DRAMA, .... IEY!!!! Karumba!!!! My poor Rach. If there were ever a reason to question the emancipation of the feminine gender, these other women would be the reason...

I would pick swimming in Julie's river filled with crocks a hundred times over, than navigating this particular Estrogen-filled Ocean!!!!!

can I hear an AMEN, from any of the men that are out there?

After my little pity party, (of which we are all victims of once in awhile), I did ponder on that other Nugget that I came across...

What the caterpillar calls the end,
The World calls a butterfly.

It all sounds good, and I really like looking at butterflies and contemplating becoming one...

But one has to remember that it's a B@tch crawling outa the cocoon at times. LOL!!!

But hey: it's all good :o)

One just has remember the wise words of the ineffable Red Green:

"If the women don't find you handsome, they should at least find you handy."

Have a great week,

And keep you powder dry.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Letter of Intent by Mr. Daddy - Life

Dear Life,

Ssome times YOU Suck!!!

And I am tired of making lemonade!!!!!!!

And if the Tough get going when the going gets tough!!! (BA,Bye, Bye)

And if I have to look on the bright side ONE MORE TIME!!!!!

And if the longest journey starts with the first step, NOT GONNA DO IT!!!!!

And then when you are having a quite time and just contemplating it all you get this little gem....

"What the caterpillar calls the end,
The world calls a butterfly" - Lao Tze Tao

Just what are you supposed to do with that

With all due respect,

Mr. Daddy

Hope ya'll are having a great day.


Head over to Julie's for more Letters of Intent:

Letters of Intent

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Thank You Very Much

Hey y'all - time to link up for some free therapy, courtesy of the one and only Kmama's Thank You Very Much!


The Daily Dribbles


I have a few people I’d like to thank this week.  In no particular order:

To the amazing performer at the Japanese steakhouse, you scared the everloving pants off of me, Thank You Very Much!


Sure, we all come for the fire, the knife skills, and the egg balancing tricks – but throwing food and sauce AT me pretty much guarantees a scream, Thank You Very Much.


And while we’re at it… thank you very much to my lovely friends and tablemates who laughed at my expense, Thank You Very Much.  Especially you, Chica – who thought it was hilarious to help plan a “let’s tell ‘em it’s her birthday!” fake-out.  Then you make the mistake of using the ladies room, and returned to find the band ready to sing to YOU!

IMG_5205God’ll get ya Sweetie, Thank You Very Much!


To my sweet cousin A who confiscated my camera for the evening and returned with this:


My life wasn’t complete without that image, Thank You Very Much.

Though I sure could use it when I attempt to bluff Julie in the next Battle of the Blogs… Thank You Very Much.


And for that other interesting photo I found on the camera…

To my mother: for giving my son a DUM DUM SUCKER at 8:30PM, then letting him do crazy stuff like climbing up that notoriously tipsy stepstool… Thank You Very Much.


Yes I know you warned you’d get even someday.  Grandma rules are not fair, Thank You Very Much!


And OhMyLord this could probably be a True Story Tuesday post in itself:

See this devastatingly handsome guy?


We’ll call him Cousin D (cuz I’m creative like that).

To my aunt who sweetly told me to go ahead and use the restroom down the hall, Thank You Very Much.

For forgetting that Devastatingly Handsome Cousin D was taking a shower at that moment, Thank You Very Much.

For forgetting that a deaf chick wouldn’t hear the water running, Thank You Very Much.

For having a “don’t lock the door” rule for your boys, Thank You Very Much.

For changing your mind about the decorating theme and removing all but the CLEAR SEE THROUGH shower liner, Thank You Very Much.

And yes, I held that poor mini-bladder all the way to the restaurant, Thank You Very Much.


What are you thankful for this week???

Almost Wordless Wednesday









(Kudos if your eagle eye caught the smudge on the plate that matched the one on his sock.  Which then got tracked around the house.  Seriously kid???)

Monday, January 25, 2010

True Story Tuesday - It's too late to ground me, right?

Somehow, I didn’t ever think the day would come where I would rat myself out to an entire population of bloggy friends… especially the readers who may fill a certain couple in (cough mom&dad cough) on my misdeeds.

But that’s what True Story Tuesdays are for, right?  Coming clean with all the craziness that no one could believe all happens to one person.  Sharing all those tales that are almost too funny/outrageous/miraculous/hilarious to be true.

Come on, you know you’ve got a few of your own.  Heck, you’ve probably already posted a few.  Just grab the code under the True Story Tuesday button on the sidebar, add it to your link, then come back and plug in your post link for some comment love.

After all, that’s what True Story Tuesdays are for, eh?


Now, if you guys don’t see me around for awhile… you’ll know my parents caught wind of this story and decided to ground their 30-something daughter for something that happened two decades ago.  But you have only yourselves to blame.  After all, you asked for it…



Remember my last TST?  I mean, who could forget?  The crazy Kirby vacuum cleaner getting tangled in my hair and smacking violently into my forehead repeatedly while my father sat and laughed himself silly.

Now I wish I could say I got my revenge on the Kirby vacuum, but that beast just wouldn’t die.

But that camper… well the camper was another story.

Remember these?


Well, I wasn’t overly fond of camping – being the prissy city girl that I was (my family laughs maniacally at the thought that I now live in the country with three horses behind the house).  I certainly didn’t have much use for the fake hotel that didn’t even have a bathroom.  And I certainly didn’t have any use for it since I had to help clean it when I didn’t even want to go anywhere in it.

With summer past, I could breathe a sigh of relief.  We wouldn’t be going anywhere in the rain.  And we sure wouldn’t be going anywhere in the snow.

Speaking of snow… we finally had a day home to play in it.  We bundled up – my sis and I…


Yes, this was taken on the actual day of this TST.  Oh great… now I’m gonna get all sad and everything because that crazy little sister decided to up and move and leave me to drown my sorrows Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream all by myself…

(Next time you mention wanting THICK hair, take a look at this picture and just feel sorry for me, k?  Thanks to PCOS, this isn’t a problem anymore, but golly – try taming that before school every morning!)

And Mom… if you’re reading – even though I already told you not to – remember that you LOVE that picture, and you especially love your oldest daughter who would never do anything intentionally to upset you.

Sooo… we headed outside for some major snowball fights just a few moments after that classic 80’s picture was taken (I was so rockin’ that acid wash denim jacket).

We shriek and scream and dodge and pelt our way through most of the snow in the driveway.  My sis starts grabbing handfuls of snow off the truck.

Well, I have a better idea.

(Aren’t you glad, for the sake of your entertainment, that I have such spectacular ideas?)

I haul myself bodily onto the hood of the truck (sorry Dad), and clamber up the windshield (Mom is wincing… I told you guys to quit reading).  I hang like a rock climber from the cab-over part of the camper (I was less than 5’ tall, I didn’t say it was a GOOD idea).  Then finally scramble onto the top of the camper.

Whoo-hoo!  King of the hill!  My poor sis is getting pelted with snowballs from above – from my exceptionally brilliant vantage.

She shrieks, attempts a few feeble retaliatory snowballs, then retreats around the back end of the truck.

By golly, I wasn’t going to let her get away with that!  Not when the supremely non-athletic me had finally found a way to best her throwing skills.

And as I went to follow her from above… I took two steps on the top of that snow-covered camper and…

(Look away Mom & Dad)




Oh, it wasn’t enough that I just (ahem) BREAK something, but my entire right leg goes through the plastic ceiling vent and I am wedged tight.

Oh Golly.

And darn those siblings with perfect hearing… that little sister stopped dead in her tracks and turned around with a look of pure shock on her face.

“What was THAT???”


“That wasn’t NOTHING, what was it?”


“What happened?”

Then followed an extremely painful series of negotiations in which I believe I agreed to do my sister’s chores and eat her vitamins for 14 years.

I managed to somehow extract my leg with only minor injuries, but my physical wellbeing would be in far greater jeopardy if my dad found out what had happened to his camping treasure.

So… ummm… I… I… I didn’t tell him.

That’s right folks.  I somehow managed to pay my sister off long enough for her to forget  about the “incident”.

Except ‘til early summer.  When Dad went out to ready the camper for our next trip.

And opened the door to discover massive damage.

Golly gee.  Something had broken the vent, left broken plastic all over, and had allowed all that snow to just pile into the inside of the camper and Lordy, that mildew was something else.  Baffling, truly  baffling…


Seriously folks, this will be the first time my parents have heard the real reason for that mystery disaster that claimed our camper.  Pray that I will somehow managed to sneak this post under the radar, so as not to jeopardize future blogging.  Otherwise you may just have to petition for my release from cruel and unusual punishment (oh Lord, they’re gonna make me go camping, aren’t they???)


I know you’ve got some great stories – and we’d love to see ‘em!  Link up below and we’ll be around with some comment love!  Happy True Story Tuesday y’all!

Sunday, January 24, 2010

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a... pig?

That’s right folks.

I cooked and hardly anybody got sick!

Y’all might remember that I’m a bit challenged when it comes to food preparation.   Or at least the edible kind.

As for Mr. Daddy’s snide insistence that his wife cooks by smoke alarm, I beg to differ.  If the deaf chick can’t even hear the beeping, how does that even help?  (It would be more accurate to say that I cook by “neighbor notification” – when the neighbors come over and ask what that ungodly beeping is that is causing the horses to flip out in the back pasture.. (ahem).

So imagine my delight when I discovered a recipe that was Rachel-proof!  The true test is always when I ask Mr. Daddy if he’d eat it again.  The deer in the headlights look (especially when accompanied by gagging) is always a bad sign.

But if he can maintain eye contact and hold his food down while answering “yes”, the heavens open and the Hallelujah chorus begins.

Here it is – the rare recipe that managed to be consumed twice without any reports of food poisoning:


Just grab the below ingredients and a 1/2 cup of water and you’re set:

I’m a firm believer in being able to mix up the basics…

(and why YES, I am a smart shopper… a whole thing of chicken for FREE?  Boo-yah!)

This recipe is so easy that you don’t even need to thaw the chicken first – and you are ready to dish it out in 3 hours after essentially ignoring it.  That’s my kind of cooking.

Quick hint – I am totally adamant about not using “low sodium” or “low fat” items if they don’t taste just as good as the real stuff.  In this case, the Neufchatel cheese is even BETTER than regular cream cheese, and the low sodium soup is just fine.

Don’t beat yourself up – use any kind of pasta or rice you like.  Just prepare the noodles/rice right before serving.

So grab your Magic Bullet or blender or use some elbow grease to mix up the Neufchatel cheese, cream of chicken soup, zesty italian mix, and 1/2 cup of water.

Then realize that you haven’t seen your 3-year old in more than 11 seconds and crash his party to realize he was doing this:

IMG_5542(Oh yes he was – absolutely.  He had drawn all over his bedspread with chalk and was desperately trying to “erase” it.)

Attempt to discipline terror-stricken child without laughing – and thank the Lord Almighty it was ONLY CHALK.

Back to the kitchen - dump your soup mixture on top of the chicken that you’ve already thrown into this:


Cook on high for 2.5 hours, turning the chicken a couple times - then grab a couple forks and shred up that tender chicken that you’ve been otherwise ignoring.

Time to break out your secret weapon (a.k.a: Rachel’s only successful detour from a published recipe):


Oh my sweet friends, this was a stroke of genius I tell you!  Pull the dough apart and toss the chunks onto the shredded chicken mixture. You’ll probably only need half the dough – bake the rest or save ‘em to make this again in two days.  (Ahem) not like we did that or anything…

(Ok wait – I just realized that I used the phrase “toss the chunks” in a recipe post.  Probably not the most apropos verbiage.  Apologies!)

Seriously… this stuff cooks perfectly in the last 30 minutes and soaks up that yummy italian sauce flavor!  The flaky layers kind will soak up more, I think the regular biscuits would take up less.  And it might be a good idea to make sure one of the rolls of biscuits didn’t expire in October.  Just sayin’…


Not the best picture, but there wasn’t time to mess with settings while tummies were growling!  There are a million ways to add color with side dishes and toppings (which I will leave to the masterful Daddy Bub).  And it is sooo nice to have a yummy meal that doesn’t need babysitting!

If any of you are feeling particularly sympathetic for my family, please do share your recipes!

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Letter of Intent

Oh my goodness – y’all totally ROCK!  And I’m not just saying that because those votes swung my way in the first ever Battle of the Blogs… but your comments left me cracking up!

Did you read Julie’s post tonight?  Go ahead, I’ll wait.  Then come on back for my Letter of Intent for my sweet (in the “look over your shoulder” kind of way) friend.

 Letters of Intent

Dear Julie Dundee ~

Your concession speech actually left me feeling bad for you.  And how you make me laugh while making me feel guilty is a rare talent.  It totally reminds me that I didn’t get more votes for being funnier – I got more votes because more people share my insane fear of death by water/death by croc.  (Yeah, 34 vs. 8, and you are just being a stinker about including my accidental vote for you :)

There is just something innately more comforting in being on land with the ability to use all four limbs to fight for your life.  I loved your comment,  Rudy Rukus, Ashley, and Dan understand that a quick, relatively painless death (death by drowning would be much less painful then teeth and claws tearing into flesh) is preferred over the torture you have all subjected yourselves to.”

Girl… are you forgetting that crocs have big ole’ mean teeth and gnarly claws too?  Don’t think they won’t use ‘em.

Goshdarnint – you just sucked me back into debating again.

Anyway – I was just going to be gracious about it, but then you post that blasted picture of me again.  For the record, I said I wanted to be SKINNY.  Not have my poor b**bs look like they’re racing eachother to my waistline.

THEN, you go and point out that Siegfried and Roy are wearing sunglasses for a reason.  And of course at first glance, that reason appears to be the atomic shine on my forehead.  Girl, I think you’ve gotten more than enough payback.

You gotta admit there were some great answers out there (and we LOVE y’all for making this so stinkin’ fun!)  Try:

Floortime Lite Mama: I prefer tigers they are cute looking - plus they are also endangered so I would at least have the satisfaction of knowing that my fat body was put to max good use.

(for the record, this beautiful woman doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her)

Apparently Kari @ p.s. is buff and can totally take on a tiger.

And {Kimber} is such an LSU fan, she wouldn’t mind being eaten by the mascot.

And the sweet Mr. and Mrs. Nurse Boy said...

I am going to have to take your side on this one, even though that croc purse is adorable! I think I have a better chance against a soft, furry cute tiger that a disgusting reptile of a croc. YUCK!  Honestly, since I have 3 kids, I don't even think one tiger would be a match for me... just ask my kids. ;0)

I think that woman can get an amen from every mother here.

Thanks for the fun Julie… we should do this again (what do y’all think?)


The Scared Swimmer Who Just Kicked Your Butt in Round One

p.s. if it’s any consolation – you got more comments.  Sure, they’re a bunch of sissy swimmers like me, but… they’re good commenters! :)


Love y’all!  Thanks for not leaving me with the “uh-oh, this was a dumb idea and I’m so dorky no one wants to play” thing.  You are seriously the best bloggy friends a chick could have.

Now head on over and link your own Letters of Intent up to the girl who crocs me up (hee hee)!

Thank You Very Much

I seriously didn’t think I’d be able to get to a Thank You Very Much post today… but it’s been a doozy of a week already and I’ve just got waaay too much snarkiness to go to waste.

After all my whining, head on over to Kmama’s for some “I hear ya” moments!

The Daily Dribbles


In all seriousness… a great big THANK YOU VERY MUCH to everyone who joined in on Battle of the Blogs – Round One!  We had a great time – stay tuned for the results and a few words from our sponsors.  Oh wait… we don’t have any sponsors?  Yeah, well – if anyone WANTS to be a sponsor, I’m sure Julie and I could be convinced to do some sumo suit wrestling for your entertainment.  Cuz we’re all about our image and all, Thank You Very Much!


About that “image” thing… to the little PhotoShop wizard who did the pictures for the Battle of the Blogs (cough JULIE! cough), I think you were being a bit unfair, Thank You Very Much!  Love that you posted a glamorous picture of you on vacation with your croc purse.  Then added a picture of me edited to look like a tiger was biting my butt.  Not to mention the unusual placement of the (ahem) girls that made me look like a walking advertisement for  What?  You didn’t think I was going to actually post the picture here, did you?  That’d be just a wee bit too much public humiliation, Thank You Very Much.



To the person who believes it is their sworn duty to make my life miserable during any working hours… God’ll get ya honey, Thank You Very Much.

Just because I sweetly reminded you that you failed to follow your own rules and forced staff to scramble, does not mean that you had to CREATE a new rule just for me to follow and club me over the head with it.  I already deal with ONE three-year old daily, what’s your excuse?  I’m sure you’d love to know that important people who matter are aware, very aware of your behavior issues, Thank You Very Much.

(Oh Lordy friends… if I could actually tell you what was going on, you’d be all over it.  Let’s just say that somebody needs a grand butt-chewing and a reality check.  Sponsors anyone?)


To the sister - yes, my ONLY sister - who thinks it’s okay to move away (sob), are you kidding me?  Look what you’ll be missing out on, Thank You Very Much!


Seriously.  Enough of this.  Come back already, k?  We’ll do thai and tiramisu and get our toesies painted.  Take the kids to the park and let them get their craziness out.  Seriously, you’d be a mean mom/aunt to deprive them of it, Thank You Very Much.

IMG_1391 (Love you very much and miss you already)


Gee, thanks a lot Kmama.  I think I prefer the snarky to the big ol’ pity party I wound up with, LOL.

Head on over and see what everyone else is grateful for!  And don’t forget to tune in soon for the Battle recap! :)

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The Battle of the Blogs has begun!


LET’S GET READY TO RUUUUUMMMBBBLLE!!!  Or just debate- whatever.
But you…that’s right you, and you, and you, and you over there.  This is all about you.  So state your opinion (‘cause your opinion is the only one that matters), vote (‘cause every vote counts), and join in on the fun that is sure to rock the blogosphere.  It’s time ladies and gentlemen, the time you’ve all been waiting for!

Battle of the Blogs has begun!

Would you rather swim across a river that is filled with crocodiles
- OR -
spend the night on an island where man-eating tigers live?

(FYI:  Julie is in black print; Rachel is in blue print )

No brainer on this one!  I'd choose the crocodiles any day!  I don't like the idea of death staring me in the face and taunting me. Come at me from behind nice and quick like and be done with it already. 

You're kidding right?  Death by croc is about the creepiest thing for me... anything reptilian is NOT preferable to the furry kind.  I mean, it was Daniel and the MAMMALS den, not Daniel and the ALLIGATORS den.  *shudder* Girlie, I'd rather spend the night freaked out about tigers than about crocs...

That's just it though.  Tigers will taunt and tease and you just don't know what to expect from them.  They are all like I’m gonna get you girl, you just won’t know the time or place. But oh it’s coming. *licking lips*  There is no need to torture me mentally before my death...just get it over with already.

Not to mention what a sleepless night would do to me while I sat and tried to figure out exactly what the tiger was going to do and when he was going to do it.  My mind would go nuts thinking things like, if I look over here he will think I forgot about him and he will go behind the tree, then I will pretend to sleep and he will lick his chops while salivating over my deliciousness, then I will jump really high and scream like a wild banshee when he creeps over to that rock ready to pounce on me, and he’ll get freaked, and….

Julieeeee - those crocs are gonna think you're just as delicious!  And don't you know they can play mind games too?  They're sneaky and they can lurk underwater forever.  You can be all the way across that river and that last toe in the water is gonna do you in.  Then it’s that lovely little death roll spinny thing.
Maybe the part that I'm not getting is why you'd prefer a CERTAIN death, over a maybe one?  I mean... MAYBE I could get a bick stick and climb real high up a tree and beat any tigers as they approached?  Or start a fire or or or or...?  But swimming?  I'm just one big old piece of bait...

Actually, I think it's quite the opposite.  I think there is a possibility I could swim from one river bank to another and not make one crocodile take notice of me. ’ Cause I’m stealth like that.  But you are on an island with a man-eating tiger and chances are that tiger has not seen a human for a while.  And as the only human that the tiger has seen for quite some time you would look might tasty- even though you're little and skinny and have a dancer’s body and probably smell nice...not that I‘m into smelling women or anything.  And tigers climb yeah, no escape there.  But if there happened to be a tree in the river, I could definitely climb it to escape the jaws of a crocodile.

Julie Dundee
Don't you just love my crocodile purse? 

Alrighty Jules... don't you think it's fair to enlighten the troops that you're like the Michael Phelps of Texas chicks?  I mean, sure you'd rather go up against the crocs if you're just leaving them churning in your wake... but the rest of us are probably more like wild-eyed crippled caribou at the water's edge.
Come on folks... we'd have better odds against the kitties, right?  Julie Dundee can have the crocs.

tiger chick
(Yes Julie – we know you have mad editing skilz – but did you have to have that tiger biting my BUTT?)


And this is where we turn it over to you, our most loved readers!  Don't let those smiles fool ya', we are serious about our debate and will fight to the death to prove our point.  Your job is to vote on the topic at hand:

Would you rather swim across a river that is filled with crocodiles-OR-spend the night on an island where man-eating tigers live?

After you vote be sure to leave us the  reason behind your vote in the comments. Then hop over to Julie’s at Foursons and check out the comments and opinions over there! Votes are good at either or BOTH blogs :)  Julie and I will be comparing notes and adding votes -  and will get back to you on the winner of The Battle of the Blogs! (And no bribing is not beneath me.  Ahem.)

You can get further with a kind word and a gun, then you can with just a kind word. ~ Al Capone
Would you rather swim across a river that is filled with crocodiles - OR - spend the night on an island where man-eating tigers live?

feed me to the crocs

feed me to the tigers free polls

Monday, January 18, 2010

True Story Tuesday by Mr. Daddy

Good Lord friends!  Last week was AWESOME with all the fun links.  I promise, we made our way to all of them and left some good ol' comment appreciation - after laughing to tears all day!  Thanks for sharing!

Are y'all rested up after a long weekend?  Ready for another True Story Tuesday?  While Rach hides her head (and hair) in shame after last week's episode, this week is brought to you by none other than the brutally honest Mr. Daddy.

Your first time playing along?  Don't be shy!  You're bound to already have a post that qualifies as True Story Tuesday material... anything outrageous, amazing, hilarious, miraculous and (mostly) true that has happened to you.  It's those blogworthy moments that make life fun.  And who doesn't love a little comment love?

Sooo - grab the button code from the side bar, include it in your post, then come back and link up your post address so we can all share in your TST moments!

Now, I nervously hand the keyboard over to my charming husband...



Alright Ladies don't judge me...

Let me begin by telling on myself, I have gas!!!!

(Rach in: Good Lord man. I am quaking in fear for where this is going... in public, no less)

Well not any more than the next guy (or gal) I'm guessing...But I do get it on occasion....Like almost every time I eat. And I might add Rach says that Beano is just an accelerant...

So.... what is one supposed to do about this little inconvenience???

Like most things in life you just have to make the best of it. Kinda like when life gives you lemons you make lemonade.... Right????

Or you got to look at it in the right way, maybe your glass is half full instead of half empty....

(Rach in: Oh honey, it isn't the GLASS that is half full...)

At the very least you have to turn that natural gas into positive energy...

Now it's not like I sit around in a yoga induced trance meditating, legs crossed, hands resting lightly on my knees with finger and thumb in the circle position, trying to figure out what to do with this little encumbrance...

I just go with my old pappy's advice,

Better to fart and bear the shame, than not to fart and bear the pain.....

That advice has served me well through the years, but as I am not particularly fond of shaming myself, I usually try to make light of the issue. As a well-adjusted properly-taught redneck boy, with a little self education here and there, I have learned a few tricks to advert the shame issue...

I am not going to divulge all of my secrets lest I meet any of you bloggy friends in the future, and I need to turn my embarrassment into laughter - and as this particular one is an old classic that everyone knows about. I will tell you about what happens when you try to be a responsible parent and teach your young one about some of the finer points of life...

I have been teaching Itty Bit the pull my finger trick, it works rather well for the most part, but when you add in the exuberance of youth sometimes you just run out of gas... quite literally !!!

When this happens, and he is pulling on my finger like a drowning man clutching at a life line...
I tell him that I have run out of juice.

Being the bright young boy that he is, he is catching on quite nicely for the most part. Although he does get a little confused on his timing, as evidenced by what happened when he ran up to his mother the other day and proudly held out his finger and said...PULL MY FINGER.

She promptly complied, and he announced with all the verve of a three year old...

I outa uice!!!! (
which left her quite speechless...)

and as proud as I am of my Itty Bitty guy, I still think that there is some confusion as to what he thinks it means, because he ran straight to the refrigerator got the apple juice out and spilt it all down the front of his shirt...

Yeah! I have taught him well, who needs a glass?

I feel like the Austin Powers villian, I have my very own mini me...LOL


(pull my finger!)

(Rach In: M O R T I F I E D. The man is on a mission to destroy any vestige of respect I might have tried to earn... tell me y'all have husbands like this?  Please?  And don't by shy about sharing all about 'em in the links below... I need some sisterly support right about now :)

Heartbreak... and a little healing

Remember this?

It just about broke his momma’s heart to watch:


He’s grown a wee bit since last March, and so has his desire to be Daddy’s fishing buddy:





(guess what he just heard?)



(I’m guessing Daddy is gonna take his little good luck charm again?)


Saturday, January 16, 2010

How Bad?

I totally admit to stealing this off of Shana’s blog (Blaze ‘n’ Crochet) – but she was sweet enough to give me permission.

Since I howled over it, I figured at least someone else was bound to find it funny too :)

Soooooo, courtesy of Shana…

How Bad Is the Economy?

The economy is so bad that I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.

The economy is so bad I ordered a burger at McDonalds and the kid behind the counter asked, Can you afford fries with that?

The economy is so bad that CEOs are now playing miniature golf.

The economy is so bad if the bank returns your check marked Insufficient Funds, you call them and ask if they meant you or them.

The economy is so bad Hot Wheels and Matchbox stocks are trading higher than GM.

The economy is so bad McDonalds is selling the 1/4 ouncer.

The economy is so bad parents in Beverly Hills fired their nannies and learned their children’s names..

The economy is so bad a truckload of Americans was caught sneaking into Mexico .

The economy is so bad Dick Cheney took his stockbroker hunting.

The economy is so bad Motel Six won't leave the light on anymore.

The economy is so bad the Mafia is laying off judges..

The economy is so bad Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen.

And finally...

Congress says they are looking into this Bernard Madoff scandal.  Oh Great!!  The guy who made $50 Billion disappear is being investigated by the people who made $9.5 Trillion disappear!


Stay tuned this week for our upcoming Battle of the Blogs!

(Or as Julie and I lovingly refer to it as: BOB)

You won’t want to miss it – cuz you guys really and truly are the stars!


Thursday, January 14, 2010

Letters of Intent

Julie has a pretty rockin’ Letter of Intent this week… thanks chica for letting us all join along for some self-serve customer service!  Sounds like our letters are getting stuff done - or as Julie so eloquently put it, “kicking butt and taking names”!  Join along and see what your rant can earn you!

Letters of Intent


I hope she won’t be too upset with me for crashing her party and having some fun with my letter this week… cuz Julie… it’s all about YOU!


Dear Bloggy Rival  Competitor  Friend ~

I like you.

I really do.


But you’re going DOWN sista!


I know you’re funny and all that,

and people love your witty comments,

and I often feel like a totally humorless dork when I read your stuff,

and you have cute hair,

but this is fair warning…

we’re going head-to-head and I’m gonna


And I’m expecting y’all to pull up those ringside seats and make some noise.


With much love,

Rachel, your redneck rival



Oooh!  Aren’t I scary?!?!

If you have no clue what I’m talking about, here’s a hint (and there may or may not be some secret giveaways involved, I’m just sayin’…)






(If your husband just got all excited looking at the screen, that’s a .30-06 and an AR-15.  And  yes I did shoot it, and  yes it was just before that picture, and yes I did dadgum burn my hand on the barrel for dadgum photo-op.  Doesn’t Julie just rock hers?)

Thank You Very Much

The week has flown by and it’s already time to whine complain express your gratefulness with KMama’s Thank You Very  Much weekly therapy.

The Daily Dribbles

To the rude receptionist who lost it when I told her I needed to reschedule… after waiting TWENTY MINUTES past my scheduled appointment:  my time is valuable too, Thank You Very Much.

(Y’all know us peons would have had to forfeit our appointment if we were 10 minutes late, right?)


To the same aggressive receptionist that Mr. Daddy got on the phone when he attempted to reschedule my appointment… ain’t so fun being rude to my charming husband, is it?  Thank You Very Much.

(For the record, Mr. Daddy stopped her in her tracks at the first sign of attitude… attaboy!  We know how to deal with 3-year-old behavior… never underestimate the power of a toddler’s parent!)


And to the lovely receptionist again, who went out of her way to whine to ANOTHER DEPARTMENT that I’d missed picking up my hearing-aid part by refusing to wait the week before, Thank You Very Much.  Since it had nothing to do with my appointment with ANOTHER DEPARTMENT – wouldn’t that be considered illegal to share my medical information?  (Which ironically, I realize I am now sharing with the entire internet).


To (you guessed it) the charismatic receptionist who decided to do this tattling to my nurse at the front desk while I was in the waiting room… why yes, I DO LIPREAD, Thank You Very Much.


To the nurse who apparently was friends with Receptionist Of The Year – ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  Getting mad at me because I don’t remember the exact date of my last hearing test is soooo not important in the grand scheme of things (and not relevant to that appointment anyway), Thank You Very Much.

Please remember that YOU have all my medical records, and after being profoundly deaf for three decades, I don’t exactly wait with baited breath to see the results of my 429th hearing test, Thank You Very Much.

And you’re welcome for the pageant smile I gave you the entire visit… I was determined to kill you with kindness after watching your exchange with the whiny receptionist.


(While I may seem overly whiny about this particular beloved specimen of a person – please consider the following history:

A few years ago, she went head-to-head with me and lost when I told her she was mistaken in her refusal to comply with their obligation regarding my benefits.  Her meanness left me in tears and my friend who was undergoing a very visible chemo for fourth stage lung cancer was attempting to help.  She threw her hand in our faces and yelled at us to STOP TALKING!

I related my story to customer service while crying and (long story short): the medical center CEO wrote me a sincere apology, reimbursed me with CASH, and Ms. Tyrant was sent for customer service training.  Man… maybe I oughta write a Letters of Intent tomorrow and send them a copy?)


Go check out KMama for more – hope y’all have less craziness to be grateful for.  Oh wait, that didn’t come out right…