A Letter to My 7-Year-Old

Dear Griffin,

You came home from school today, and ran in the house with the usual grin you display at the end of your school day. Dropping your backpack, you told me you moved up to the next level on flashcards, thanked me for the treat in your lunchbox, and asked where your little brother was.

You are always full of energy, and I wonder if you know how much I love to watch you do what you do. Your facial expressions, the way you move, big or small, I notice these things. Things that make you who you are.

Like the new sprinkle of freckles on your cute button nose. Freckles that are a symbol of childhood innocence. Freckles that almost seem to dance when you crinkle your nose to adjust your glasses.

How your head moves from side to side as you brush your teeth, instead of just your hand. And how you grin at your yourself in the mirror as the finale to your teeth-brushing, checking for a job well done.

How you gulp your milk when you drink it, then take the back of your hand to wipe off your mustache, and use your jeans to wipe off the back of your hand.

How you twirl your longer shaggy hair around your finger when you're nervous, like when we're waiting to be seen at a doctor's office, or when you are about to meet new friends at a birthday party.

How you sometimes will say "Isn't Hayden so cute?" about your little brother when he's sleeping in the car, which makes me secretly hope you will always care for him the way you do. Even when you're older, and fighting over who gets to use the car.

How you always say "This is the best day of my life," even though you said it last month at the pumpkin patch, last summer at Disney World, or last night after eating a big chocolate cupcake that is top-heavy with icing. You love life. May you always.

You are a mixture of shyness with hands in your pockets, the stand-up comic who always has an audience, and the sentiment that reminds me to not let life pass us by.

As a mother, I'm supposed to be teaching you, yet you teach me so much more.

I love you, Griff.

Momma

Elmo, Skeletons, and the Memories Between

It's Halloween.

In a matter of hours, we will be walking the streets of our neighborhood with two excited boys who have been counting down the days of the month to say those three famous words..."Trick or Treat."

Now that my youngest is almost four, I realize the days of dressing like a cute-little-something are over. No more.

We've packed up the alligator whose mouth seemed to swallow Hayden's head, and said goodbye to the fuzzy red Elmo suit with the bright orange nose. The peapod infant costume is now with all of the first-year baby mementos in the attic.

Griffin's clown suit that he wore as a one-year-old is gone, too. He won't remember that Halloween. Our little clown slept in his carseat as we showed him off to his grandparents around town. I remember propping him up for a photo, but he didn't budge.

This year is different.

This year, it's all about getting the bad guys. Star Wars characters, complete with weapons, and turbo blasters. Masks and helmets and capes and boots. Nothing fuzzy. Nothing sweet. No Elmo noses.

I'm ok with my kids growing up, because each day brings new memories. But some things are tough to let go. Yet, we do. And new memories are born.

Like watching them ring our neighbor's doorbells with anticipation, thanking them quickly, then comparing notes on what got tossed in their bags as they run ahead to the next sugar stop.

Or watching Griffin say a bashful hello when he sees the girls from his class dressed in their finest princess attire.

Or watching the boys tear into their treats back at home, promising with each Kit-Kat they've devoured that it's "the last one, Mom, really." Of course, there's always one more.

As there should be.

Could She Get Any Closer?

Speaking of deodorant earlier...

This is one job I would NOT do. No explanation necessary.

Don't Sweat It

I smell like Greg today.

As I got ready for work, I realized my deodorant was empty. Figures. So, I borrowed my husband's. Borrow may be the wrong word to use, since I can't exactly give it back. Hey, it's better than nothing.

So, today, I'm wearing Old Spice for Men anti-perspirant. Fresh Scent.

And I'm heading to the nearest Walgreens on my way home from work.

What's For Dinner?

Ever open your fridge and wonder what in the world will you make for dinner?

That's what I've been doing for the past 20 minutes.

Nothing is sounding good. If I didn't have kids who rely on me to grow and be nourished, I'd resort back to the old days of being single and eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes as my meal. But, that was then, this is now.

Here are my options:

Spaghetti and garlic bread, but that sounds rather filling. And I'm a carb fanatic, so a slice of garlic bread to me is like a can of Pringles. Can't eat just one.

Breakfast for dinner. Usually I make blueberry pancakes with turkey bacon and scrambled eggs. But, I'm low on syrup. Scratch that.

Chef Boyardee pizza kit. The box calls for shredded mozzarella cheese. Just did inventory, and as luck would have it, I don't have shredded mozzarella cheese.

Hamburgers on the grill. Yet, last time I grilled burgers the boys told me "these don't taste like Dad's." Well, that's because...Dad didn't grill 'em. Mom did.

Mac N Cheese. The Kraft brand in the blue box. Only, I manage to screw it up. I know, how hard can it be? Somehow, I always overcook the pasta, and the Shrek-shaped noodles look more like squished Play-Doh. Even Greg wonders how I mess up boiling something in hot water.

After weighing my options, I realized I need to go to the grocery. And do some situps, because there is a loaf of garlic bread that is calling my name.

Spaghetti it is.

We Need a Dress Code for Dinner

My 3-year-old is dressed like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle tonight.

This is a daily thing, dressing up as some sort of super hero or character who "gets the bad guys." He wore his lime green suit to dinner tonight. And when he refused to eat his peas, he bargained with,

"Ninja turtles don't eat peas, Mom. They eat pizza. Wanna have it delivered?"

My 7-year-old backed him up with, "He's right, Mom," while I turned my head to keep from laughing.

Never a dull moment.

Carrie Called!

Did you miss our chat with Carrie Underwood?

She called in this week, and told us she got pulled over for the first time last year. She drives so little that she had forgotten to apply her new plate tags that came in the mail.

The officer let her off by signing an autograph.

Wait till you hear Part 2 of Carrie's chat...we'll air it November 10th, the week of the CMA Awards.

Carrie dishes on her backup plan should something go wrong when hosting the show with Brad Paisley, and what she hopes does NOT happen if she gives an acceptance speech.

Stay tuned.

Things I Learned on the Road

We're home from Fall Break.

We road-tripped it to Florida. Creating memories is what we like to call it. One day, stories from these trips will be what the boys share with their own kids.

After spending time with all males, I learned a few things on this vacation. Some good, some bad. But, all memories, nonetheless. Here they are, in no specific order:

I learned that a 3-year-old will tell you "no" when asked if he has to potty when stopped at a restpark. He will tell you "yes" if the offer is to pee on the side of the road. Apparently, that's more intriguing.

I learned that getting hit in the back of the head with a banana peel on 465, and hearing your 3-year-old say "He shoots! He scores!" is creating a memory. One day I will call it that.

I learned that children have to literally be pulled out of bed on a school day, but on vacation, they wake up ready to go at 6:45 am. Unfortunately, Mom and Dad don't.

I learned NOT to point out scenic things during our roadtrip, such as "Look at the horses, kids," because we always pass them by the time I get their attention.

I learned NOT to let a 3-year-old pick out a Ring Pop from Cracker Barrel, because you forget about it later. I found it on his finger, stuck to his favorite stuffed dog, while he napped. His yellow lab is now yellow and "blue."

I learned that I don't like the oatmeal at Cracker Barrel, even though I continue to order it time and time again. Apparently, I WANT to like it, but even with brown sugar and banana slices, it still tastes the same...like oatmeal.

I learned that Greg and I will never agree on the air in the car. He's cold when I'm hot, and I'm hot when he's cold. Translation...I choose. Seems fair.

I learned that Starbucks advertises with giant billboards at just about every exit, and I saw every one of them when I wasn't needing caffeine. When desperately wanting a nonfat white mocha on the way home, there wasn't a Starbucks sign in sight. Of course.

I learned there is a reason I don't do much of the driving. Hearing Greg wake up in a panic every 12 minutes, saying "You ok? You sure?" may have something to do with that.

I learned that saying "yes" to a 7-year-old who begs you to go on a water ride at SeaWorld is important. So is saying "yes" to sitting in the front row, then getting soaked. I rode an hour to my in-laws in wet underwear, yet my son says it was the "best day ever." Hey now, that's a memory.

I learned that two things will always happen at a restaurant with kids. They will drop their crayons on the floor, then crawl over your feet to retrieve them. They will also eat two bites of their chicken fingers and say they are full, then say they are hungry 20 minutes later. For dessert, no less.

Finally, I learned that I'd do it all over again. Minus the banana peel in the back of the head.

Are We There Yet?

We drove to Florida for a little Fall break getaway.

This is after I said I would NEVER drive to Florida again, following our trip to Disney last June. I usually like the road trips, but the June excursion resulted in too many arguments between the boys, and a lot of refereeing on my part.

But, never say never.

So, last week, we loaded the kids in the car, pj's and all, and hit the road at bedtime. On 465, Hayden asked me if I brought him a Pop-Tart for his bedtime snack.

"Sure, did," I told him as I handed him his favorite treat wrapped in foil. Then, he said...

"Well, did you bring the toaster?"

He'll Skip the Buffet

Ever had a picky eater?

A friend of mine was telling me that her 4-year-old son is very limited on what he will eat. She explained that "limited" meant FOUR THINGS. And NO fruit. None.

I thought SURELY there has to be a fruit this kid likes. NO grapes. No strawberries. No watermelon. No apple slices. No nothin.

No veggies. No corn on the cob. No green beans. No carrots.

No pasta.

What DOES this kid eat?

Chicken nuggets.

Hamburger on a bun.

Peanut Butter and jelly.

Bowl of cereal.

I guess it is safe to say my friend doesn't spend a whole lot of time in the kitchen.

I Can Do It If I Try, I Can Do It If I Try

I'm clumsy.

Hey, not a big surprise to many people. Yesterday, I had lunch with my sister and mother at a downtown pizza place. A cute little parlor that serves it by the slice. We decided to take our lunch to the downstairs dining area.

Worried that Mom would stumble on the narrow stairwell and spill her drink, I offered to carry her drink on my tray.

Kristen laughed, saying there was NO way I'd make it down the stairs with one drink still standing, let alone two.

I showed her.

I made it with no problem. I boasted about my smooth balance act and set my tray on the table. Talking with my hands, I

...spilled my coke on my pizza.

Is This One of the Five Food Groups?

Yesterday morning, Greg was finishing getting ready for work, when our little guy strolled into the bedroom. Greg heard Hayden say, "Daddy, I want a new snack."

"A NEW one? We haven't had breakfast yet."

"Yes, I have," Hayden replied, as he held up a bag of opened marshmallows.

Greg figures Hayden downed 4 or 5 before outing himself. Smart boy.

I've Gotta Work Out to Look Like This?

Faith Hill poses in a bikini on the cover of SHAPE magazine in December.

She says it's a birthday present to herself as she turns 41. Looking pretty good for 41, if you ask me. Women everywhere are saying they hope to look this fantastic on their 41st.

However, men everywhere are saying, "lose the sweater."

Hold On Tight

Driving home tonight, the boys asked me if Papaw could see them from the sky.

Not a moment goes by that I don't think about my dad, and the boys like to talk about him. Often. Griffin told me how "nice Papaw was" and Hayden said he loved to "hug his neck." I began to tear up, and my voice cracked as I recalled my own favorite moments with their Papaw Mike.

7-year-old Griffin asked me if I was crying.

"A little, but I'm ok," I told him.

He reached out his arm from the backseat of the car and said, "Here, Mom, I'll hold your hand."

And he did, all the way home.

Write a Letter Instead

Has this ever happened to you?

You hit SEND on your keyboard, and soon after, realize you just sent an e-mail to someone who wasn't supposed to see it.

If so, you're not the only one.

A new AOL survey shows 32% of Americans are in the same boat. Sometimes technology is a bad thing.

One woman says she kept dropping hints to the guy she'd been dating that they just weren't a good match, but he wasn't catching on. When he e-mailed her asking if she was free for dinner, she forwarded it to a friend, commenting on how this "dweeb was clueless." Or so she thought. She hit reply, not forward. Oops. That's one way to tell a guy you aren't compatible.

Happy e-mailing.

I Love Watching You Grow

Hayden.

He's rough and tough, and rarely takes no for an answer. He has a mind of his own, is 3 going on 20, and scares me with the lack of fear he often displays.

Yet on the stairs yesterday, he stopped me as we reached the third step from the bottom and asked for a kiss. I was more than happy to oblige.

It was a brief moment in time where the world stopped just for us. Our noses touched and he grinned wide and grabbed my face with chubby hands. I hope we always have these moments. I wrote this for him...

Hayden,

I will always admire your sense of independence, your "No, mom, I've GOT it," and your efforts to be the first to accomplish something.

I will always love that look of mischief written all over your face when you know you've done something you shouldn't, or the wide-eyed astonishment in your eyes when you're hoping a good excuse will suddenly pop in your head.

I will always need your silly goofiness, that unique personality that continues to shine through and can instantly put me in a good mood.

I will always deny but know better when someone says you have the feistiness of your mother, and secretly smile when you mutter "hmmmmppf" under your breath when you don't get your way.

I will always want to run my fingers through your wavy blonde hair and be mesmerized by your piercing blue eyes that melt my heart, even when I've caught your hand in the bag of marshmallows one too many times.

Simply put, you are the balance in this family, the good at the end of a bad day, the laughter when I'm sad, and the energy when I'm tired.

You are my son, and I love you.

Momma

Interesting Words

As someone who talks for a living, I loved the thought-provoking words on my Starbucks cup today...

THE WAY I SEE IT

You can learn a lot more from listening

than you can from talking.

Find someone with whom you don't agree in the slightest

and ask them to explain themselves at length.

Then take a seat, shut your mouth, and don't argue back.

It's physically impossible to listen with your mouth open.

Mom, What's the Big Deal?

Boxing.

That's Hayden's new interest, after seeing my Taebo exercise video with fitness trainer Billy Blanks.

Last night, he and I were trying to keep ourselves entertained at Griffin's basketball practice by engaging in a round of "play" boxing.

Within minutes, Hayden said he wanted to be a REAL boxer, and pulled his jersey over his head. He stood before me, bare-chested. "C'mon, Mom...take your shirt off, too," he said.

Uhhhhh....no.

Say "Cheese!"

Ever been with a friend when you're paying and they ask to look at your driver's license?

I'm never thrilled at that request, only because I have NEVER taken a picture that I like for my legal piece of ID. Hey, bigger things in life to worry about. I don't lose sleep over not having a glamourous photo.

What happened today was something similar. Jim, my co-host, saw my Sam's Club membership in my wallet and looked at the picture on the back. It was taken a good 8 years ago and is the size of a thumbnail. After a quick glance, I wasn't ready for what he said next.

"You look a little chunkier."

You read that right. C-H-U-N-K-I-E-R. As in, bigger. A few pounds heavier. What man says that? Of course, we are friends, but hey, no free passes. I chastised him and Jim still said...

"You yourself said you gained twenty pounds at college....when was that taken?"

Men. Will will they learn?

Stubborn With a Capital "S"

It's going to be a long fall and winter.

Hayden, my three-year-old, is refusing to wear warmer clothes. He is obsessed with gym shorts and sports jerseys. As long as he's wearing shorts and short-sleeves, he's happy.

Enter fall. Enter several tantrums yesterday. Enter my headache.

Hayden is refusing to dress warmly to play outside. I've been told I'm stubborn, so I'm sure he gets it honest. But, I was a shy child. Hayden, anything but. Nevertheless, I held my ground. Our conversation went something like this:

Me: Where are you going?

H: Outside...bye!

Me: No you're not, not dressed like that. Let's go up and get some sweatpants on with a jacket.

H: (Stomping up and down) Noooooooooooooooooooo. I don't wanna. Gwiffin's not wearing a jacket.

Me: Yes, he is.

H: Nuh-uh.

(Griff walks by wearing a jacket.)

Me: See, he's wearing a jacket.

H: But, I'm not cold, Mom. I'm not. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease!

Me: Nope. You need something on your arms.

H: But, real football players DON'T wear jackets! Or sweatshirts!

Me: Wear it, or we play inside. You make the choice.

H: FINE. I will wear it. Uhhhhhh.

Me: Good boy.

Hayden reluctantly agrees to wear the jacket, and goes outside. Within two minutes, I spot him outside, in his jersey, and no jacket. And so it goes, THREE different times today. Three tantrums. Three times the fun.

One day we'll look back and laugh.

Please Don't Squeeze the Charmin

Toilet paper.

Would you believe Reba McEntire says she buys 150 rolls of it at a time? She believes in buying in bulk.

Guess she never runs out. That or she has lots of bathrooms to stock.

Both are safe bets.

Oh No, They Dih-n't

Traditions.

One of them in our family is getting doughnuts at a nearby grocery on Saturday mornings. We eat them in the coffee shop.

If the kids are good, their treat is riding the mechanical horse after we pay for our groceries. (Though, Griff has just about outgrown it.) We've done this since the kids were babies.

Today, the horse tradition came to an end.

We got to the register, looked up, and noticed the two carousel horses that cost a penny per ride were gone. No more. I told the kids they were probably being repaired, but I'm guessing they won't be back.

Sigh. Kinda sad.

I Need a Kleenex

Since becoming a Mom, just about anything sentimental can bring tears to my eyes.

We have tv monitors in the studio, with the audio turned down. This morning, I looked up to see a young girl about 11 years old being surprised by her Daddy, a U-S soldier on a short leave from duty.

This little girl's face said at all. Shock. Relief. Excitement. She couldn't run to her Daddy fast enough, then hugged his neck.

Moments like these get me every time.

Sweet Memories

I love candy and gum.

Remember Dentyne gum?

Those rectangular-shaped pieces of cinnamon chewing gum that lost their flavor within ten minutes? And left the tip of your tongue feeling numb? I loved Dentyne, for some reason. Don't see the classic version much these days.

Before that, I remember chewing TeaBerry gum. My grandmother would always have it in her purse. She no longer carries it, but I've seen it at Cracker Barrel.

What about the gum FreshenUp? Small squares with flavored gel inside? FruitStripe? Loved it...and no less than three sticks at a time would do.

Remember old-fashioned candy sticks, individually wrapped in plastic and displayed in glass jars?

When I was a child, my parents would give me spare change and I would ride my bike down to the General store to buy two or three. Fruit Punch, Cinnamon, and Bubble Gum were my favorites. All for a dime apiece.

I even loved when Mom took me to Dr. Henderson. The end of his tongue depressors had been dipped in a strawberry candy, then hardened. I would be rewarded with it just for sticking out my tongue and saying "ahh."

Fun times, years ago.

Anyone Lose a Key?

Oh, the things we do to our friends.

Our morning show producer, Roland, had an extra key on his keyring. One that he doesn't use anymore, so it's serving no purpose.

He decided to try out a little experiment. This morning, Ro threw the key on the floor of the main office area downstairs. He's waiting to see how many people will come forward with e-mails to staff saying the key has been found.

He says he sometimes does this at airports with those phony but real-looking credit cards that are sent to him in the mail. Fun for people-watching, he says.

Yes, we have too much free time.

P.S. And yes, I'll keep you posted on the key-spotting.

The Check's in the Mail

Yesterday was a windy day.

So, imagine my surprise when my almost four-year-old ran out to the mailbox, then walked back in struggling to hold a pile of letters and bills.

"Whatcha got," I asked him?

Hayden beamed with pride and said, "Your mail. I got it for you, Mommy. But I dropped it, and some of it blew away."

And with that, he turned and went back out to play.

Gotta love it.

Dessert Is Being Delivered Tonight

Would you believe my boys just ran in the house, screaming, "The ice cream truck is coming!"

Isn't it fall? Didn't we just go to the pumpkin patch?

Needless to say, I've got my wallet, and we're waiting. We can hear the music in the distance. Ohhhhh, the anticipation of a drumstick.

Yum.

Bust A Move, Kenny

Did you miss our chat with Kenny?

Watch for him on Ellen Friday. We asked Kenny to dance out onto the stage, as many celebrities do. He says he just might have to do that.

Kenny's new album is now in stores, and he says his pal Peyton Manning won't have to buy it, he'll send him a copy.

Good to know Peyton will have money for lunch today.

Table For Two?

Here's another thing I don't do.

I met a friend for lunch today, and I'm not typically one to go ahead and be seated if I happen to arrive first. Mainly because I RARELY arrive first. Not to mention that I don't dine in restaurants alone. Can't stand it. I'd rather hit the drive-thru and eat in my car.

The hostess said she could "go ahead and seat me," and before I could tell her that I was fine waiting, I found myself walking to a table. No big deal. I'm an adult.

I was sitting there at the table, waiting for my friend, when it dawned on me...

What if she DID get there first? She strikes me as the type to go ahead and be seated, and what if, perhaps, she is ALSO sitting at a table. Waiting on me? What if we are BOTH sitting at separate tables, waiting on each other?

Don't think I didn't scan the restaurant, just in case. I wouldn't have been surprised to see her, since these things happen to me.

Hey, at least I entertain myself.

By Golly, Get Yourself a Backup Plan

Greg.

He's my husband.

My husband who doesn't like things to not go smoothly. Let's just say he's not spontaneous, and I am, which makes for an interesting combination.

We had hamburgers on the grill last night. I made the patties, he grilled them. Or tried to.

Just as I took a phone call from Griffin's doctor's office, confirming an appointment, he opens the patio door and yells..."Plan B! Plan B! I hope you have a Plan B!"

No, but I do have someone on the phone...someone who is now wondering why in the world a man in the background is yelling out Plan B!??? I gave him the look I give my kids when I'm on the phone, as if to say, nothing could be THAT important.

What was Plan B, you say?

Plan B was Greg's CODE for "the patties are literally falling apart when I flip them, and we need to come up with something else for dinner."

Of course it is. I knew that.

Now our doctor does too.

Green With Envy

With all the talk about "going green," I found this photo to be interesting.

Does this count?

A Trunk Full of Memories

Clutter.

If you go by Oprah's rule, she says "toss out anything you haven't worn or used in year." So, I did. Well, sort of.

I PACKED UP everything we haven't worn or used in a year. Greg put it in my trunk and told me to run it by Goodwill. The trunk is full, and I no longer have room for groceries back there. Stuff like:

-Old clothes for the boys, that they maybe only wore a couple of times.

-Old bedroom decor from Hayden's nursery.

-The leather Buzz Lightyear toddler jacket, that Mom gave Griffin when he thought the guy was better than Santa.

-The boys' Graco Stroller and matching carseat.

-Toys the boys no longer play with.

-And the list goes on and on and on...

Needless to say, those items have been in my trunk for three weeks now. I've passed by Goodwill on several occasions, but I can't bring myself to part with my treasured items that we "haven't worn or used in a year."

Why would I want to part with the monkey in surf shorts that has been part of Hayden's beach decor in his bedroom? The one he clutched from time to time? His room is now a sports theme, and the monkey got packed away.

I can't say goodbye to the stroller that pushed around both of my sweet little boys, at malls, the neighborhood, and parades. When did they get too big for that thing anyway? Weren't they just eating cheerios from the stroller tray and gripping a sippy cup of milk?

Or the toy lawnmower that makes my eardrums shake when it makes that popping noise as it is pushed. Used to drive me crazy, but the boys are too busy wrestling and making armpit noises to play with the once-loved toy.

That Buzz Lightyear coat reminds me of the time we stood in line for an hour to see the famous Disney star, only to have Griffin bawl when it was his turn for an autograph. Greg snapped the picture, which looks like our 2-year-old at the time is getting a flu shot, not meeting his hero.

I'm keeping these things in my trunk for now. Maybe I'll part with them, and maybe not.

On second thought, what's Oprah know anyway?

Don't Ever Change

We stopped to put fuel in the car last night.

As Greg went in to pay, I got teary-eyed about my Dad being gone. Griffin asked if I was crying. I told him I wasn't, so he wouldn't worry, but he knew better. I'll never forget what he did next.

My 7-year-old "softie" unbuckled his seatbelt, and climbed up front to put his arms around me. I love Griffin's sentimental ways and compassion for others. Then he said, "I feel sorry for you, Mom. I lost a Papaw...

...but you lost a Dad."

An old soul who knew what to say when it mattered most.

Kenny's Calling!

Kenny Chesney.

He's calling the morning show tomorrow morning after he rolls out of bed. We've talked to Kenny several times, and he's always fun.

He's told us he secretly wishes he played in the NFL, and that he loves actress Meryl Streep. We know he eats at Subway, because he stopped there before his last visit to the studio. His favorite cereal is fruity pebbles, and he doesn't give free tickets to family members that aren't at his Grandma's house for Thanksgiving.

Now we could use your help. Got a question for Kenny?

Let us know, and we'll try to ask him. Just click on COMMENT below. NOTE: Here's one we won't ask...

"Boxers or briefs?"

Answered Prayers

We made our weekly trip for doughnuts yesterday morning. The boys like to call them "doughnut dates."Two chocolate cakes with icing for Griff, and two white yeast with sprinkles for Hayden.

Upon returning, we sat at the kitchen table, eating our sugary treats, when out of the blue, 7-year-old Griffin announced...

"I'm SO glad God made doughnuts!"

It's the little things.

I Mean, Really...

For once, I'm speechless.

Didn't We Just Do This?

Ever shopped for the same clothes, at the exact same store, on the exact same night...TWICE?

We did.

Greg and I were shopping at a local department store, and selected some new clothes for him. Got all the right sizes. We then headed to the shoe department, and hung the clothes on one of the racks so he could try on some footwear.

In less than 10 minutes, the clothes we wanted to purchase disappeared.

GONE!

An employee had apparently thought they'd been left behind by someone else, so she put them back.

It was dejavu, going back through the aisles and re-selecting our items...

...only to find that they didn't fit when we got home.

Words

"Trip the Light Fantastic."

I was at dinner last night, and heard someone say that. What in the world does that mean?

I've heard the words used before, but I don't really know why. Or where the phrase comes from. So, I looked it up.

Here is the official definition...

..."to dance nimbly or lightly, or to move in a pattern to musical accompaniment."

There you have it.

5 Things I'd Tell Dad

Lately, there have been moments I've wanted to call my Dad, and share some things.

So, here are 5 things I would say...

1) Remember that kitchen drawer that broke, and you teased Greg because he couldn't fix it? You saved the day, repairing the drawer two weeks before you died. Well, it's broken again.

2) Hayden continues to make his halarious comments on a daily basis. You always got a kick out of my phone calls, sharing the latest, and I can still hear you cut up with laughter. You would have been shocked to hear what he said to a lady at the doctor's office yesterday. Lord knows I was.

3) You had promised Griff a new fishing rod, and Mom found it in your garage. You hadn't had the chance to give it to him. Mom did. It touched my heart when Griffin looked up to the sky, and said, "thank you, Papaw."

4) I am going to carry on your tradition of making cereal mix for the family during the holidays. I have your recipe, and hope it tastes the same. I'll put in extra peanuts, just like you. Then, I'll scold Shel and Kris for digging them out, just like you.

5) I think of you every day, ESPECIALLY when I walk by the concession stand at Griffin's football field. You always walked Hayden to the window for a hot dog. (Of course, you always walked away with one for yourself, too.) I walked past it last night, then looked at the sky and told you I loved you. Did you hear me?

Those are 5 things, but I have a million more.

Look-A-Likes

Tony Stewart.

My co-host, Kevin Freeman, is often told he looks like the racing star. I agree with the comparison.

Jim, my other co-host, is told he resembles George Clooney, though the verdict is still out on that. I've gotten the Molly Ringwald mentions, or actress Laura Wright from the soap operas.

I don't see it.

Kevin probably has the highest chance of passing for a celebrity. Especially when he has a five o'clock shadow.

You agree?

Loved This

Thought I'd share...

Another interesting comment on my Starbucks cup yesterday. Tom Brokaw had this to say about our technology-driven world...

"It does us no good to wire the world, if we short-circuit our souls."

So true.

I've Got Hair-Envy

D.A.W.G. the Bounty Hunter.

I've mentioned previously that I got hooked on this show while on maternity leave with Hayden. Not because it was a quality show, but because the couple that star in it are quite entertaining. And so are there fashions.

I posted their picture, in case you've not been so fortunate to tune in.

I'd say more, but the picture says it all.

Enjoy.

Time To Wake Up...

Early.

That's what I tell people when they ask what time I get up in the middle of the night.

When Greg and I first met, he would say, "that's just not normal." True. But, it's my normal. All of us on the morning show try to nap during the day.

Yesterday, I snoozed a bit, and set my clock to be ready for the school bus to drop off my oldest child. When the clock sounded, I panicked. I jumped up, and immediately turned on the shower, hoping I wouldn't be late for my 5:00 am newscast.

The only problem was, it was 3:30 IN THE AFTERNOON.

It wasn't until Greg called to ask how Griffin's day was at school that I realized what was going on. Talk about a weird feeling.

I even scare myself sometimes.

Need Extra Cash?

Your garage.

Would you rent yours out to make some extra cash?

I saw something about this on television a couple of days ago. Some people are trying it, with the way the economy is going.

I don't think I could do it. Some stranger living in the messiest part of our house.

Reminds me of the time Greg built his own shelves to store tools and other items in the garage of our first home. He was so proud. Even asked me to come look as he basked in the glory of hard work.

We sat down for dinner 20 minutes later, and heard the shelves crash to the floor, in a dominoes-effect. The cost?

Supplies...$120.00

Money he saved making his own...$300.00

Giggles from his wife...Free

The look on Greg's face...Priceless

Um, Excuse Me, Boss...

I walked into my boss's office yesterday.

Needed to talk about a few things, when all of the sudden he glanced up at me and I realized he had done something to his face. It looked bloody between his eyes, or at the very top of the part that leads down to your nose. Where your glasses rest.

Except my boss doesn't wear glasses. And he doesn't shave up there, either.

Startled, I said, "Are you ok? You're bleeding." He thought for a moment, then laughed when he checked in the mirror.

My boss drinks a red fruit smoothie from a large-rimmed cup every morning. Every time he took a drink, it left a mark on his face.

Telling people he knicked his face trimming his unibrow sure makes a better story. Too bad he's my boss...

I Needed This

Today was a bad day. Then I saw this picture.

Enough said.

In Case You Missed It...

Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood.

They've been tapped to host the CMA's in Nashville, next month. Good choices. Both will also perform.

Brad will do anything to stay off the red carpet. He once told the morning show that "he hates it." Walking down the red carpet is painful for Brad, and he says he and his wife don't do so often.

As for Carrie, she told us that Spanx, the updated version of a girdle, are her new best friend when it comes to dressing up! That way she can eat what she wants in the dressing room.

At any rate, Carrie promises to not have any "wardrobe malfunctions," and Brad says "I would tune in, just in case."

Should be fun.

Too Much Free Time...

"I'd rather clean out my sock drawer."

Ever said that to someone? It's usually used in some sort of sarcastic fashion, as if to say cleaning out your sock drawer would be much more fun.

So, I had to laugh Saturday evening, when I began cleaning out my closet, and eventually...

...my sock drawer.

I thought to myself, "I really am cleaning out my sock drawer!"

Was I THAT bored?"