The Story of Book Buddy

“Isn’t my book buddy adorable?” Natalie asked.

He was...something else.

I didn’t want to say what I really thought of him. Diseased was the first word that came to mind.

See, in PreK, each kid gets to bring home the Sickly Buddy—er, I mean, the BOOK Buddy overnight. He comes with a small book that you read to your kid and I guess the Book Buddy overlooks it all while spreading a virus.

“I just love him so much,” Natalie said, hugging him to her chest. (If she’s sick within a week, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“It’s…where are his eyes? When was the last time he brushed his hair?” I asked. (I also wanted to know: where else has he been? Has he been dropped in a toilet before? His fur looked like it had been wet.)

“Silly, he can’t brush his hair. He’s a dog!” Natalie chastised me as though I were Paula Abdul making another one of her off the wall comments. “Here. He loves you.” She plopped him in my lap.

DISEASE!

“Pet him,” Natalie instructed.

I was sitting there, frozen, as though she had deposited a turd on my lap.

“It’s just—” I began.

“PET HIM! You’ll hurt his feelings.”

I gingerly tapped him on the head (at least I thought it was the head part) with one finger.

“He’s sleeping with me,” Natalie said, taking him back.

“He looks like he’s related to Cousin It,” I answered.

“He’s so cute,” Natalie continued.

“Does anyone else feel the urge to Lysol the crap out of him?” I called out. “I don’t even want to know what he smells like.”

Natalie took a sniff. “He smells great! Like sausage.”

Um. Ew.

Anyway, Natalie did sleep with the thing and I’m proud to say it didn’t try to eat her.

But then I worried how she’d give it up. When I told her it was time to take him back to school, she didn’t want to let him go.

“I love him!” she wailed.

“You have other non-diseased toys,” I reminded her.

“He’s cute!”

“He’s...well, I wouldn’t call him cute. Look, how about we take a picture with him so you’ll always remember. Okay?”

Natalie agreed.

“So let’s say goodbye to Germ Buddy—uh, book buddy,” I urged.

Natalie sighed and let him go. “Goodbye. I love you,” she told him.

I think it might be time to get our flu shots…

No More Goggles!

Great news!

I no longer have to sleep with the goggles I was given after I did Lasik.

Let me tell you, sleeping with goggles was not easy. I’d be on my side and the corner would be digging into my cheek. So then I’d move to my back and that got uncomfortable within ten minutes. So I’d shift to my other side and yup, there went the digging in my cheek all over again.

If I didn’t want to be able to, you know, SEE again, I’d have chucked the goggles.

But I kept at it.

On day 3 I asked Tom, “Want to fool around?” while wearing the goggles and he laughed.

(Should I be insulted?)

And now, I can say SO LONG!

(I still need to be careful around my eyes though. The reason why they give you the goggles is so you don’t accidentally poke or rub your eye while sleeping. I don’t think I do this.

At least I hope I don’t.)

This Thing Called Lasik, Part Two

**Part One is here**


So where was I?

Oh, right.

Pressure on my eye.

Burning hair smell.

Focus on the green light.

I remember being led into a room and the doctor making a mark on my left eye. My left eye, you see, has astigmatism so he had to mark it in order to correct it. That was odd because my eyes were numb. I saw him coming at me with the pen and that was it.

And then it came time to lay back. My heart was beating like mad and a woman told me she was going to get Tom.

“Now,” another woman said. She leaned over me and smile. “Just look at the green light no matter what.”

She was blurry. I couldn’t make out her face. I hoped that would be the last time I wouldn’t be able to see someone up close.

Tom was able to watch from the window. I saw his form briefly before they started putting all the equipment above me.

I saw the green light they were talking about and stared hard at it. I didn’t want to think about what was going on with my eyes or else I’d panic.

Yes, they held my eye open but you didn’t really notice it since they kept putting artificial tears in. And plus, you know, it was numb.

Yes, the pressure on the eye felt weird. I could hear a robotic voice in the background counting down.

“Fifteen seconds….”

And then a woman would say, “Almost done…”

“Ten seconds….”

“You’re almost there…”

“Five seconds…”

“And you’re done. Just keep focusing on the green light.”

My vision got weird as the doctor moved stuff around in my eye. The green light darted left and then right. I sort of felt like I was in space. Everything was dark, except for the green light.

Before I knew it, my right eye was done.

Then the same thing happened to my left.

“You are done,” I was told.

I felt odd. My eyes didn’t hurt but the relaxers had kicked in so I felt limp. I felt someone grip my arm and lead me out.

“You did great,” the woman said.

Everything was blurry. I knew that would happen. But things were definitely clearer than before. Plus, I had on the unattractive goggles.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked. I could feel him take a hold of me. I peered up at my husband and mumbled something about fudge. I might have told him I wanted some.

We sat down at a table and I was given instructions on how to use the eye drops. And I was told to sleep propped up for the first 24 hours so my eye flap didn’t go out of place. I know. Ew. I didn’t want to sleep propped up for 24 hours. Oh, and the whole eye flap thing.

Then I had to rest for 10 minutes to make sure my eyes weren’t going to rebel. They didn’t, so then I was able to go home.

Let me tell you, when I got home I was still out of it. I know this because when I was explaining how it went, my Mom asked why I was slurring my words.

“I’mnotslurringmyworrddsss,” I replied indignantly. I sounded normal. But I guess to everyone else I was Mel Gibson. (Only I wasn’t yelling or calling people Sugar Tits.)

“Let’s get you to bed,” Tom said carefully, talking to me like I was a mental patient. He brought out the lawn chair that reclined since we do not have a recliner. He settled me down and I looked up at him. He was still a little blurry.

“DoIlooksillyyyy?” I wanted to know. After all, I was in goggles.

“No,” Tom lied. “Get some rest.”

I shut my eyes and promptly fell asleep.

When I came back down, I could see a little better. Tommy kept flicking me looks and asking if I was okay. It turns out I freaked him out when I slurred my words. I’m not like Lindsay Lohan on a daily basis so he wasn’t used to that. He had asked my Mom if I was going to normal the next day.

The good news is, I can see better each day. The bad news is, yes, it still gets blurry on and off and I sometimes have to wear my sunglasses indoors. My eyes are sensitive to light. Now I know how a vampire feels. I stepped out and crossed my fingers while shouting, “Ahhhh! It burns!” (I think I embarrassed my kids when I did that.)

My eyes also get dry to the point where I want to ask other people around me, “Do you feel like clawing your eyes out right now? No? Oh, that’s just me. Better use some eye drops..”

Yup. I’ve become an eye drop expert. I still hate the things, but they help my eyes out so I deal.

Bottom line? I recommend Lasik. Yeah, it’s expensive. But it’s worth it. If you do it, let me know and we can compare stories! I am also picking up a lutein supplement to help with my vision. 

(Seriously, the worst part was no computer for 24 hours. Is that sad?)

(And I guess the burning hair smell was gross, too.)

(Oh, and I didn’t get fudge, but Tom went out and got me a cake:

I swear I took a picture of it complete, but my eyes were weird and I didn’t push the take picture button. Oops. And yes, he’s aware he spelled congrats wrong.)

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your blog. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either. If you do it though, make sure you link up!

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To hate the new Facebook. Bring the old one back, please.



To have not known Jennifer Garner was pregnant again until I flipped through my US Weekly.


To hate when people don't get the concept of personal space.



To love that it’s starting to get to peacoat season. I know I mention how much I love peacoats regularly but I can’t help it.



To still love my pumpkin spice frappuccino (no coffee) from Starbucks. I’m going to be sad when it goes away.



To be glad I don’t have to wear goggles to bed anymore. After Lasik, I had to wear them 4 nights. They weren’t fun.



To not be sure what I’m going to buy with my Gymbucks (what I earned at Gymboree) this time around. I’m not loving the holiday line. Hmm. And Gymboree STILL won’t design a line for boys dedicated to the sport of swimming.



To have found the Pumpkin Pie Poptarts at the grocery store. They were hard to find last year. Clearly, I have a thing for pumpkin.



To still have no clue what Natalie is going to be for Halloween. She’s changing her mind daily.



To continue to go to the gym. I’m still not a fan but I find if I don’t go, Simon Cowell’s voice starts calling me a fat cow in my head. He’s like, “Am-bah, if you skip the gym, your thighs will be extra jiggly and you can skip the pumpkin spice frappuccino you wanted to get lat-ah.”

This Thing Called Lasik

It's strange what you think about when you're nervous at times.

For me, it was Will Ferrell in Wedding Crashers screaming, "Hey Ma? Can we get some meat loaf?"

I swallowed and squeezed my hands together in my lap. We had just pulled up at Golden Corral for lunch--and no, that's not why I was afraid. I suppose buffet-style meals might frighten some people, but not me. I love them. I totally get my money's worth and load up my plate twice, and then try out each dessert...

But anyway. I digress.

We were at Golden Corral before I got Lasik. I was instructed to eat a good meal before coming in because some of the relaxers they'd be giving me might upset my stomach if it was empty.

I didn't eat as much as I usually do. I picked at my plate and tore apart the delicious roll. Pieces were littered all around my plate and the waitress did a double take when she came to refill my Diet Pepsi. She probably thought I was one of those girls who play with carbs, but don't eat them.

"What if I go blind and never see again?" I asked Tom after the waitress scurried off.

My Mom was at home with the kids so we were alone. This meant he could stay with me and deal with my neurotic questions.

"You won't," Tom assured me.

"But if I do, can you manage the kids on your own? Natalie is sneaky. She'd take my walking stick and hide it," I rambled.

Tom stared at me blankly from over the rim of his cup.

"My walking stick," I repeated. "What I'd use if I were blind. And I'd have to learn Braille and I suck at learning other languages and--"

"You're not going to go blind," Tom cut me off.

I hoped not.

Before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of the ClearSight Lasik Center.

This was it. No turning back.

Hey Ma? Can we get some meat loaf?

I was called back to get a picture of my eyes first. I suppose to make sure they were...I don't know, ready for lasers or something like that. Then I had a glaucoma test, which sucked, because they put numbing drops in my eyes. Have I mentioned I had eye drops? And yes, I get that it's ironic considering when you do Lasik you use A LOT of eyedrops. Still. When she had me tilt back to put the drops in, I squished up my eyes and she was like, "It's okay. Relax." How can I relax when liquid is coming at my eyeball? Still, I managed, and then she swiped something across my eye.

I suppose my eyes passed because then I was given paperwork to fill out. The usual stuff. The whole "you can't sue us if you do go blind. Ha" crap. As I was scribbling out my signature, my glasses slipped down my nose. I pushed them back up with my finger and thought, "Soon I won't have to do this anynore. That might have been the very last time I'll ever have to do that."

Afterwards, I slid over my credit card and tried not to wince when the woman brought back my receipt to sign. Big numbers stared back at me but I reminded myself that this was worth it.

"And here you go," she said, handing me a tiny bowl with a pill in it. "A relaxer."

I pictured the scene in Bridesmaids where Kristen Wigg has taken the pill with booze and is going nuts on the airplane. Would that be me? Would I be dancing around the waiting room screaming, "I'm ready to PARRRRR--TYYYYYY!"

Tom had to remain in the waiting room while I was prepped for Lasik in the back. I sort of wanted to be all dramatic and latch myself onto his leg while yelling, "I won't go without him!" But I knew I had to be brave. I pushed out two children from my hoo haa. I could deal with a little eye stuff. Right?

I had to put on covers over my shoes and a cap over my head. I looked ridiculous. And my relaxer felt like I was kicking in so I sort of wanted to do impressions in the mirror. ("Hi. I'm Amber. Like my ugly cap? Oh gosh, me either, I am sooo not a hat person...") (I know. I'm weird.)

I had to clean my eye with a sterile wipe and then I walked out to a chair where like a billion different eye drops were lined up.

Plus more relaxers.

And pain killers.

If you can't swallow pills, I wouldn't do Lasik.

If eyedrops scare you, I wouldn't do--well, you know, eyedrops scare me and I managed, so you can too. Unless you emit bloodcurdling screams if an eyedrop comes at you in which case you'll distract the doctor which would not be cool.

I lost count of how many eyedrops that went into my eye. 5?

And then I was told to close my eyes so everything could kick in.

"My husband?" I asked.

"He'll be brought back when it's time," I was told.

I drifted on and off. I thought about a life without glasses. How wonderful will it be to go on rides and not have to worry about where I'll put my glasses. (Usually, and I'm embarrassed to admit this, I'd stick them in a...FANNY PACK. I know. I'm hanging my head in shame.)

"Amber?" one of the nurses called out. She sounded far away. It was like I was in another world. A world of no glasses.

"Yeah?"

"Keep your eyes closed. I just wanted to explain some things to you so you'll know what to expect. You'll feel pressure on your eye for 30 seconds when you get in the room. That'll be the worst part of the whole thing, I promise.."

PRESSURE ON MY EYE?!

"You might smell a burning hair scent. Don't panic, that's our equipment..."

A BURNING HAIR SCENT?

"Just stare at the green light the entire time and everything will be okay."

GREEN LIGHT?

Oh, okay. That wasn't so bad.

Still.

Pressure on my eye?

Burning hair smell?

What did I agree to?

"Are you ready?" I was asked.

A part of me wanted to run away screaming with my hands waving over my head. But.

Instead I said, "Yes."

Hey Ma! Can we get some meatloaf?

**To be continued Wednesday since tomorrow is Hey, It's Okay Tuesday**

I'm Getting Lasik Today

So. Today is the day I’m getting Lasik.

I’m not going to lie.

I’m freaked out.

So I decided to make a list of things that freak me out MORE than getting Lasik to help calm me down.


--Anything Mary Kay


--Adults who gush over Twilight


--The woman who looks like a Cheetah. (Seriously, she’s had so much plastic surgery that her face resembles a Cheetah. Or something.)


--Running out of chocolate


--Basically everyone who goes onto The Maury Show—except for the sick kids.


--Not being able to use the computer for 24 hours (seriously, I can’t after Lasik. I wonder if I can call out Facebook statuses for my husband to type but I worry he’ll type something complete different. Like, “Hi, I’m Amber and I’m wearing black goggles on my face because I just got Lasik..” while I’m screaming, “No, write that I made it through Lasik okay! I MADE IT THROUGH LASIK OKAY!”)


I'll see you on the 20/20 side the next time I update.

I hope.

(I'll be updating my Twitter this morning until Lasik and then as soon as I can get online again..)

Is It Really Simple?

“What’s a simple predicate?” Tommy asked me as he did his homework.

My mind went blank.

For some reason I pictured a unicorn.

“A simple predicate is...is...um...simple...and, a, um...predicate,” I answered.

Tommy stared at me as though I admitted that I was temporarily one of Charlie Sheen’s goddesses.

“Well, you see, it’s...it’s...” I scrambled to grab my phone so I could look it up. How embarrassing! And I call myself a writer. All writers should know what a simple predicate was. How could I have forgotten?

I knew the predicate had something to do with the subject. And…and…

Oh man, I’m not always the best with grammar.

I figured out what a simple predicate was and tried to explain it to Tommy.

“That’s weird,” he said as he wrote down his answer on his paper. He read the next part. “What is a simple subject?”

“Er…a subject that’s…simple…”

“MOM!”

Crap. Back to looking it up on the phone. How could I forget what a simple subject was? It was so...SIMPLE! Right?

I need to get back to school.

It’s embarrassing to become baffled over fourth grade homework.

Top Ten Reasons Why Getting Lasik Will Rock

I know.

You guys are probably sick of seeing posts about my eyes. I swear, I’ll go back to talking about regular stuff (see: loud kids) soon. But since I’m having Lasik on Friday, these posts help me so I don’t go into a complete panic (see: nervous breakdown.)

I decided to post the Top Ten Reasons Why Getting Lasik Will Rock


10. I’ll be able to see when I first wake up. No more crashing into walls or stubbing my toes on the bed if Natalie wakes up in the middle of the night crying because she swore she saw a clown in the corner of her room.


9. I can wear stylish sunglasses! No more clip ons!


8. No more raindrops on my glasses in wet weather.


7. I won’t have to worry about unruly kids taking my glasses right from my face. My kids know better at this point but other people’s children aren’t always the same and think, “Oh. Something is on that woman’s face. I think I shall play with them.”


6. No more crazy fees for new glasses. My prescription is horrible so it always cost a pretty penny to get new glasses and lenses.


5. I won’t have to worry about glasses ruining a romantic moment. It’s not fun if my glasses get knocked down to the bridge of my nose or become crooked and I have to stop and fix them. Granted, I guess I could just take them off beforehand but one never exactly knows when a romantic moment will always happen.


4. I will no longer have to worry about losing my glasses and then being blind. This has happened before. I set my glasses down and forgot where I put them.


3. I can see in the shower. It’s sad when I drop the soap and I can’t find it. (Insert Navy joke here.)


2. I won’t have to worry about my glasses fogging up when I step inside a building. That’s embarrassing. Especially if I crash into someone. Then it’s like, “Sorry. My glasses fogged up. I wasn’t coming onto you, I swear.” (Unless it was John Krasinski.)


1. NO MORE GLASSES! NO MORE GLASSES! NO MORE GLASSES!

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your blog. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either. Just please link up if you do!

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To throw away the fundraisers that my kids come home from school with. I’d rather just donate to the PTA than have to bug people by asking them to buy stuff.


To not understand the hoopla over the Missoni Target line. Apparently people crashed the website trying to buy it and lines were wrapped around the stores. Maybe it’s just not my style?


To be happy with the outcome of Hell’s Kitchen. Don’t worry, I won’t reveal who won. Heaven Forbid.


To hope I haven’t destroyed my kids too much by letting them watch Spongebob. A study came out that Spongebob could damage kids or something. Whatever.


To be buying Bridesmaids on DVD today. I recommend you do the same.


To be glad my Mom is coming today and staying for a few days to help out when I get Lasik.


To hate how slow the lights change in Oklahoma. There’s one light where you have to wait like 3 minutes.


To want to go on Ghost Adventures. If anything, to pat down Zak’s fake Mohawk. It bugs Tom and I.

Just A Couple of Bonos

“Wait. So no more glasses? Forever?” Tommy asked with a frown.

We were at the dinner table and I had just told the kids that I’d be getting Lasik on Friday.

“That’s the hope,” I answered.

Tommy poked at his chicken. “You won’t be in glasses anymore?” He has Aspergers and doesn’t always deal well with change.

“Nope,” I said, sipping my Diet Coke.

Tommy set his fork down. “So you’ll just have no glasses now?”

I sighed. You have to have patience when dealing with Tommy. Or any kid, really. Sometimes I don’t always have that.

“That’s right. I’ll have lasers in my eyes to correct—”

“LASERS? LIKE A SUPERHERO USES?” Tommy shouted.

I almost fell out of my seat. Must he be so loud? “Not quite. These lasers are going to help my eyes so I can see without glasses.” I stared at Natalie, who was eating the garlic bread. Naturally, she didn’t touch her chicken. She’s picky about what meats she’ll eat. “What do you think about no glasses for Mommy?”

Natalie chewed thoughtfully. “Can I have them? They’re pink.”

Oh. Um.

“No. These glasses are strong. I don’t want to ruin your eyes. I hope you guys get your Dad’s perfect vision. You don’t want mine. Trust me.”

“Can I poke your eyes?” Natalie asked sweetly.

Uh.

“No? I’d rather you didn’t.”

Natalie looked crestfallen. “Oh.”

“I’ll have to wear dark glasses for a couple of days,” I warned. “I’ll be like this singer called Bono and—”

“Why would you wear sunglasses inside?” Tommy cut in. “That’s weird.”

I thought back to when Tommy would come to the table in sunglasses. I’d call him Kanye. And he was calling ME weird?

“It’s because my eyes will be sensitive. And I’ll have to use eye drops to keep them healthy,” I explained.

“Can your eyes fall out?” Tommy wondered.

Oh my God. COULD my eyes fall out? No, but of course not.

Why was I discussing this with my kids again?

“Guys, I just want you to know that for a couple of days after I get Lasik, I’ll be in sunglasses and my eyes might hurt. Okay?” I said.

No one said anything for a few minutes. And then…

“Can I wear sunglasses inside, too?” Natalie whispered.

Fine. We’ll both be Bono.

Lasik. Here I Come.

“My main issue is the eye drops. I cannot stand eye drops. I freak out over eye drops. My hand is even shaking at the thought of eye drops,” I told the lady seriously.

She gave me a soft smile. “The eye drops will be worth it though, don’t you think? To be able to see without glasses will be a fabulous thing.”

I swallowed. She was right. I could have a life without glasses. I could wake up and instantly be able to see.

I was at my Lasik Consultation. For years I had been flirting with the idea of getting Lasik but I was always too afraid. And let’s not forget the hefty price tag. But each morning when I’d stick my glasses on my face, I’d sigh and think, “I’m tired of these. I’ve worn them most of my life.”

So I scheduled a Lasik Consulation at the ClearSight Center in Oklahoma City. (And no, I’m not getting compensated for mentioning their site. I wish.)

I really detest my eyes being messed with which is why I always backed away from Lasik. If I could push two kids out of my nether regions, surely I could deal with eye stuff. Right? (RIGHT?!!!)

Anyway, I was put through a series of tests. They did NOT make me do that eye puff test. They had a better machine that doesn’t do that, praise chocolate. I hate that eye puff test so much. Remember that episode of Friends where Rachel backs up before the puff is even done? That’s me. I can’t help it.

In the end, it turns out that my eyes were healthy enough to do Lasik.

And then we started talking money.

Or rather, how we could afford this.

Unfortunately, the military does not cover Lasik for spouses. I asked. Twice.

They did have a financing option, which is what we decided on. We were approved for that but still, I was hesitant.

I mean, after all. If I did Lasik, I’d have a laser in my eyes. I’d have to lay there while it happened. I couldn’t shut the world out by closing my eyes like I did when I had my kids. I’d have to face this. Literally.

And then the eye drops.

And the ugly black goggles I’d have to wear afterwards.

As I sat there debating, I suddenly thought of the episode of Newlyweds (remember when Jessica Simpson and Nick were married?) when Jessica got Lasik, had to put on those black goggles and then she went out to eat afterwards and was surprised that she couldn’t see well. I think she got stuck against a wall or something.

What if I got stuck against the wall?

Granted, Tom would be with me and he’d probably take the crook of my elbow and lead me away from the wall and say, “No darling, that’s not the door.”

Still.

A life without glasses.

Tom and I discussed it and agreed that I ought to do it.

So.

On Friday, September 23rd, I’ll be doing Lasik.

I’m told I should be back to my normal self on Monday.

But if you see a woman against a wall, that’s just me. Calmly lead me to my destination and know that I haven’t been drinking, but have just had lasers in my eyes.

Okay?

Food For Thought

I love to eat.

So I decided to show some of the things I’ve been snacking on.
For starters…

These things.

I mean…TWO cream centers? Yes, please. Great idea, Nabisco!


And then I made the mistake of walking into Godiva when we were at the mall. The perky saleslady kept yakking about chocolate and then directed me to the new dessert truffles.

I couldn’t resist the Red Velvet ones. I only have so much willpower!

I’m sure there are like 200 per chocolate but oh well. They are amazing.


Ever made Puppy Chow? I guess they’re also referred to as Muddy Buddies:

These are yummy. The homemade version is still better but this is a good substitute if you don’t feel like making it.


Look!

Something semi-healthy. These really aren’t bad. But the tiny square isn’t enough for me.

And...I decided to get some yogurt.

I go through phases where I LOVE yogurt and then I’m like, “I don’t want to ever see yogurt again.”

This yogurt isn’t too bad.


I’d still prefer ice cream though.

On Pumpkin Spice Frappuccinos

I was tired.

Maybe even too tired to enjoy shopping at Target.

I know.

Le gasp.

It’s just, some days drag on more than others. And this day was definitely dragging on.

I yawned as I touched the belts in front of me. I wanted to find a nice belt because I had read that belts accentuate your pants. Or something. I’m not really into fashion. I thumb through my Redbook that comes in the mail each month and try to follow some of the fashion advice but this doesn’t always go over so well. Sometimes the magazines want me to believe that wearing ultra furry boots is the THING. No thanks. I’m not going to go out wearing something that looks like my cat has been skinned.

I found a belt I thought I liked—and then I saw the price. $26. For a belt. Then I saw it was made of real leather but still. I plucked that belt back and found one for $6.99 that looked and felt pretty much the same as the overpriced one.

I did perk up a bit when I found school supplies at 75% off. I got a few notebooks—one with a picture of kittens on the front because awwwww….

It was nice to be able to shop in peace. Both kids were in school so I didn’t even have to look at the toy aisles. I could look at the bra section without someone going, “This one is big enough to put my HEAD in the cup!”

I headed for the checkout and after I paid I dug through my purse to find my keys.

“Here’s a free sample!” I heard a perky voice say in front of me.

I glanced up and saw a young girl clad in a green Starbucks apron with a splash of freckles across her checks. She was holding out a small plastic cup with a perfect ring of whipped cream on top.

“Uh?” I answered.

I think I baffled her. She’s probably used to people gushing with excitement over free samples.

“Free sample!” she repeated. Slowly this time so I’d be sure to comprehend what she was saying.

“Thank you,” I began. “But I don’t like coffee.”

I expected the entire store to gasp in surprise.

Instead the barista gave me a big smile. “You’re in luck. This is a pumpkin spice FRAPPUCCINO so there IS no COFFEE!”

(Clearly she had been sampling the coffee drinks though.)

I hesitantly reached for the cup. What if she were lying?

“There is NO COFFEE,” the barista vowed again.

I brought the straw to my lips and took a tiny sip. I expected to wince in disgust.

But…

…instead my mouth started to sing.

The drink was fabulous. It was like I was swallowing pumpkin pie.

“I love this,” I gushed.

The barista smiled, happy that she had the proper reaction out of me. “See? Delish!”

I stared at the cup. “So in the future, I just ask for the pumpkin spice frappuccino?”

She nodded. “Yup. Just stress no coffee because some workers might accidentally give you the latte. Which tastes like coffee.”

I finished my sample quickly. I was very close to ordering a big one to go.

But I’m trying to watch what I eat. And drink, in this case. (TRYING.)

Then again, how fatty can it be?

It’s pumpkin, right?

(But seriously, if you don’t like coffee but love pumpkin pie, go to Starbucks and ask for a pumpkin spice frappuccino.)


(I was not compensated by Starbucks for this post but if they want to pay me to try frappuccino drinks, I’d do it…)

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your blog. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either. If you do it, make sure you link up!

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To love that it’s only been in the 50s or 60s in the mornings. It beats waking up to 90 degrees!


To still hate when people say, “And how are WE doing today?” I know how I’m doing. I’m not sure about you.


To enjoy trying out new restaurants. I know I love Olive Garden and all those chain places. But I also love family owned restaurants.


To be getting used to my workout routine. I do 30 minutes a day Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. 15 on the bike, 15 on the elliptical. That might not sound like a lot but my main goal is to strengthen my legs.


To be happy that my shows are starting back up this month. The premiere of Parenthood starts tonight!


To think it’s odd that Natalie has been saying that she wants to be Spiderman for Halloween.


To allow my nine year old to occasionally watch 1000 Ways To Die so he doesn’t try anything stupid in the future. (Granted, that could totally backfire..)


To be excited to go to the Oklahoma State Fair next week. There’s deep fried bacon there. I must try it.

All That Glitters

“There it is. THERE IT IS!” Natalie shrieked, finger pointing wildly ahead of her.

She was gesturing to her beloved Disney Store. She could probably spend hours in there, if we’d let her. She loves to run her palm down each of the Princess dresses. Sometimes she even breathes, “I would love this so much.”

Most of the time we tell her no dresses because after all, she has a drawer filled with them. However, those dresses are the $20 ones from Wal-Mart. In the Disney Store they’re made a little better….but they come with a $39 price tag.

“Oooo, I’d love this,” Natalie whispered, hugging a Tiana costume to her chest.

Tom and I stared at each other. Normally we remind her that she can ask Santa for a dress. This time Tom whispered, “She’s been good, right? Maybe we could let her have a dress…”

I agreed.

For purely selfish reasons on my part. Before I was a Mom, I always vowed that I’d put my daughter in Princess dresses. And now I could put her in a beautiful one from the Disney Store. They were so…SPARKLY. (Have I mentioned I love sparkly things?) (Except for vampires. Vampires shouldn’t sparkle.)

“You can get a dress,” Tom told Natalie.

She practically fell over from shock.

And then we had to play the waiting game and she decided which one she wanted.

First she went for Rapunzel.

But then she saw the Jasmine outfit.

“That’s not a dress,” I told her. I wanted her to get a DRESS. Not a Jasmine outfit.

“But I love Jasmine,” Natalie informed me, plucking it from the rack.

What? But…but…

“What about this lovely Aurora dress? It’s pink. And sparkly,” I pressed.

Natalie tilted her head to the side as though this were a very important decision. I could see her hand going back to the rack to return the Jasmine costume. Yes. YES!

“I like Aurora…but…” Natalie muttered and hugged Jasmine back to her.

NOOOO…..NOOOO…

“Or…or…there’s Cinderella. Remember Cinderella? She has this gorgeous blue dress that would totally bring out the color of your eyes,” I said. I was pretending to be Tim Gunn. Or one of those people on Project Runway. (“Get the Cinderella dress, Natalie. Make it work.”)

In the end, she agreed on the Cinderella dress and I couldn’t wait to take her picture in it.

Naturally Natalie put it on right when we got home.

And that’s when I realized we had a problem.

The dress had spilled glitter. EVERYWHERE.

I may love sparkly things but sometimes I forgot HOW they got sparkly.

Suddenly there was glitter all over the couches. All over the carpet. The TV screen. I was trying to watch the Real Housewives and couldn’t concentrate because there was a glittery square on Kyle Richard’s boob (I actually thought she was wearing it in real life…I mean, it IS Beverly Hills. Maybe tossing glitter on you is the style these days…)

I have glitter all over me.

Tom had glitter in his hair that I worked to brush off.

Tommy had glitter on his shoes.

“I’m going to get beat up for this!” he pouted, trying desperately to get it all off.

In short, it looks like Tinkerbell exploded all over our house.
I keep vacuuming and the glitter keeps coming back.

Tom has to go to work and if he shows up with glitter all over his uniform, who knows what his boss will think.

(“Uh, did you have an extra fun weekend, Tom?”

“If by fun you mean my daughter’s dress drops glitter everywhere, including places I didn’t even think it would ever appear than yes, Sir…”)

Will this glitter ever go away? Surely the dress must run out of glitter at SOME point…

(And as I typed that, a drop of glitter fell from my head….SIGH…)

(Ironically, the Jasmine costume had no glitter on it…)

Libre Tea Winner!

I did a post for Libre Tea here.

I used Random.org to pick a number and it chose...

....number 48 which was Melissa!


Congrats!!


If you didn't win, try again in the future. I'll be doing many more giveaways.


Thank you!

Top Ten Rules on How To Use A Crosswalk

This is a crosswalk.

Many people don’t seem to understand proper crosswalk etiquette.

So here are my Top Ten rules on How To Use A Crosswalk.


10. Make sure you walk ON the crosswalk. Not beside it. If you walk beside it, this defeats the entire point of a crosswalk.


9. Make sure you LOOK to make sure cars will actually stop. I’ve witnessed many people just strolling right onto the crosswalk without bothering to look left and right. I’m a good driver and I’ll stop. Other people (like that old lady who hit Reese Witherspoon) will not.


8. Don’t start a conversation in the middle of a crosswalk. This usually makes it so you forget that you have to keep moving. If you can do both at once, go for it.


7. Don’t hesitate at the end of a crosswalk. Just GO. I once saw a chick step onto the crosswalk, then step back, and then step onto the crosswalk again. I get you might be making sure cars are going to stop but if you see one not moving in front of a crosswalk, you’re good.


6. If your child suddenly decides to sit down in the middle of a crosswalk because they are being stubborn, pick said child up quickly. Don’t have a discussion with them in the middle of the street. Yell at the kid on the sidewalk. (Yes, this has happened to me. Thanks, Natalie.)


5. Don’t suddenly decide to check your phone. This generally slows you down and then I can hear your conversation. Unless it’s juicy, I don’t care.


4. If possible, RUN across the crosswalk. I do this. I understand people have places to be so I hurry to the other side. If this means I have to drag my kids, so be it.


3. Don’t STARE at a car as you cross. This creeps us out, especially if you trip when you get on the sidewalk. I always feel like I have something in my teeth.


2. Don’t walk slowly. Granted, if you’re old or have an injury, it’s acceptable. But if you’re healthy, get your arse across!


1. Never ever hold your hand up towards a car when you walk across. It’s rude. Someone in Boston did this to me. It’s like, lady, I was going to stop but now I sort of want to run you over.

A Cinderella Story: Once Upon A Song Winner!

I did a giveaway for the DVD A Cinderella Story: Once Upon a Song here.

I used random.org to pick a number and it chose...

...number 20 which was MoonNStarMommy!


Congrats!!

If you didn't win this time, try again. I currently have a giveaway going for Libre Tea until Saturday!

Living the Military Life

Yup.

It’s true.

At six in the morning you hear a recording of trumpets playing reveille every day during the week.

This is just one of the many things you encounter if you live on a military base.

I know many of my readers are not military so I decided to do a post on what it’s like living on a military base.

As I mentioned before, at six in the morning the trumpets go off. You’ll want to kill the trumpets. Or maybe I just want to kill the trumpets.

If the trumpets don’t wake you up, the jets will. Sometimes they buzz your entire house to the point where you think “earthquake?” Or, you start to panic that it’s going to crash right into your home. I thought this once while in Wyoming and braced myself against the wall.

Not that standing against the wall would help.

At the grocery store (or commissary, as it’s referred to on the base) your items are bagged and wheeled out to your car for you.

You need to tip the baggers though. Otherwise they get cranky.

It’s sort of awkward standing there as someone else puts your groceries into your trunk. I always want to help. I tried once and got my hand slapped. So I’m assuming I’m not supposed to help.

Before you do most things on the base, you’ll need to show your ID card. If you don’t do this, people automatically assume you’re a terrorist.

I’m kidding.

(And your ID picture is rarely attractive. It’s sort of like your driver’s license photo. Unless you actually look nice in yours, in which case, I hate you.)

But really, they stare at you until you show it. You can’t buy a thing without flashing your card. It especially stinks when they do random ID checks when you walk into a store and said ID is at the very bottom of your purse. Then you’re digging through all your receipts and coupons and the person sighs and shifts their weight from one leg to the other all dramatic like.

There’s a store called a BX (base exchange) and it’s like a mini (MINI) Target. Everything is tax free.

This is just a small snippet of what military living is like. I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have.

But for now, I better make sure I have my ID ready to go.

Thongs and Lederhosen

It bothered me.

I couldn’t seem to get totally comfortable.

“How can people wear these all the time?” I grumbled.

I was talking about a thong, people.

Why did I have a thong on?

Because I was going on a date with my husband. I finally found a babysitter through sittercity.com and I wanted to look nice. It’s not every day we get to go out without the kids.

Thongs suck though.

Still, I was able to focus on Tom. We decided on an authentic German restaurant. People walked around in Lederhosen. LEDERHOSEN! I loved it.

I even had wine. I’m not a wine person but I do enjoy German sweet wines.

I ended up getting this:

It was veal strips. Amazing. And I was able to enjoy it as soon as it arrived at the table. I didn’t have to worry about cutting up the children’s food. Or getting them ketchup. Or napkins. Or taking them to the bathroom. (Natalie thinks it’s funny to announce she has to pee right when our food arrives.)

I even concentrated on eating neatly. I have a bad habit of getting some sort of food item on my lap every time I eat. This time I cut my veal neatly, popped a tiny piece in my mouth and chewed in what I hoped was a demure manner.

We had the waitress take a picture of us:

I look silly because of the thong. I was like, “This thong is awful…oh, the camera is pointed at me.”

We even ordered dessert even though we were stuffed. But they were fried apples. Who can turn down fried apples?

I can’t.

Tom even fed me a bite—only his bite is like five times the size of mine so I nearly choked on it.

That wouldn’t have been attractive if he had to perform the Heimlich maneuver on our date.

And then the people in Lederhosen would have to help.

And what if my dress accidentally flipped up and everyone saw my uncomfortable thong?

Oh, the horror.

It was a fantastic night though.

I doubt I’ll ever wear a thong again.

People will just have to deal with my panty lines.

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

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To know Natalie will be excited that they are making a Tangled sequel.


To love all the unhealthy Labor Day food even though some dude was on The Today Show saying, “Don’t eat potato salad. Or bratwurst.”


To love yard sales. Especially when I find cheap books.


To think Rachel from Big Brother is much more likeable without Brendan around.


To not like olives but love olive oil.


To love the mashed potatoes from Kentucky Fried Chicken.


To be shocked that it was actually CHILLY in Oklahoma yesterday morning.


To need to find some cute boots for the winter. I usually always wear my Sketchers everywhere but I feel I need to branch out a little.


To be tempted to get a Sleep Number bed. Tom has been wanting one for awhile and I’m curious.


To hope the McLinky works. It's my first time trying it so bear with me. Does it work?

So It's Labor Day

Happy Labor Day!

We couldn’t decide what we wanted to grill so we have hamburgers, bratwurst, and hot links.

I ought to get some potato salad, too.

OH and some sort of dessert.

What are you having on Labor Day?

(And are you planning on wearing white after Labor Day?)

(I am.)

A Cinderella Story: Once Upon A Song Giveaway! **CLOSED

**Winner posted here**


To be honest, I hadn’t even heard of the DVD A Cinderella Story: Once Upon A Song when I was contacted about it.

But then I looked it up and had to admit that it sounded really cute.

Here is a synopsis from Wikipedia:


“Over-worked, harried and terrified of being put back in foster care, 17-year-old Katie Gibbs (Lucy Hale) does her stepmother and step-siblings' bidding without complaining. Vocally gifted, Katie feels particularly upset when forced to lay down singing tracks so that her untalented stepsister, Bev van Ravensway, can hopefully win a recording contract from Massive Records--whose company President, Harvey Morgan, is scouting for new spectacular talent at a talent showcase for the Performing Arts Department at a prestigious private school.”




I always like a movie with singing. (Even though I can't carry a tune..)

And when it contains someone with the name Bev van Ravensway.

To see some of the stars of the movie sing, check this YouTube video out here!


I have a DVD of A Cinderella Story: Once Upon A Song up for grabs to a lucky reader!

Before you enter, check out this widget:

With it, you can write your own Cinderella story, enter a lip syncing You Tube contest, check out the trailer for A Cinderella Story: Once Upon A Song and much more!

Also, PartnersHub, the company giving away the DVD (thank you again!) has partnered with Confidence Coalition which helps promote self esteem and confidence amongst girls. Always a great thing.



Ready to enter the contest?

Great!


Giveaway Rules

--must be 18 or older

--must live in the US


MANDATORY entry: Do you like musicals? What is your favorite?


Contest will run until September 9th. The winner MUST get in contact with me that day as I need to get the address out to the company.


Thank you and good luck!

A Robot in the Gym

Why was it burning so much?

Why?

Wasn’t the pain supposed to lessen in time?

Why did it feel like my legs were about to break off—oh wait, smile, the guy next to you looks concerned. It’s probably because of my deep breathing. And my ultra red face. It always turns red when I’m working out.

It was day 3 in the gym.

It was day 3 in the gym and I couldn’t help but marvel at this other girl who had already done 30 minutes on the bike (I peeked at the screen when I walked by) and had moved onto the elliptical. How could she stand both? Didn’t she want to die?

I guess not because she easily moved to the elliptical, punched in her workout and started to move. Without even taking a drink of her water.

I slurped on my own water. At least I remembered to bring it this time. And I remembered to bring music. But the water wasn’t helping. The music wasn’t helping. The Beach Boys trilled a song about the beach from my iPod and I wanted to slap them. This was no time to be singing about the beach! I was dying! I wanted a pina colada!

I kept moving. I only had ten minutes to go. I could do ten minutes. I just wouldn’t focus on the pain.

That didn’t work well. I reached for my water, tilted it back, and realized it was empty.

EMPTY!

I had filled that thing up to the brim. I suppose I could get more water from the fountain—but then I’d have to pause my workout and if I left the elliptical, I wasn’t sure if I’d go back.

I managed to get through the work out. When the machine beeped that I was done, my legs felt like jelly. I wobbled over to grab a cloth to clean the machine and as I was wiping it down I saw Workout Chick move from the elliptical to the treadmill.

Was she working out on every last thing in the gym? Was she a robot?

Her face wasn’t bright red. She barely even paused before climbing onto the treadmill.

As I finished wiping down my elliptical, I noticed it said SUMMIT on the side. What? Summit? What did that—

--and then it occurred to me that I had used the HARDER elliptical. The others were just basic ones. I had gone on one that resembled a tiny mountain.

Oh.

That explains the intense pain.

Note to self: stay away from the ultra evil elliptical for awhile.

(And as I discovered this, Workout Chick happily jogged on her treadmill, ponytail swishing back and forth behind her.)