Thankful For a Lot

It's Thanksgiving.

My first without my dad.

So, in honor of him, I made a list of the top 10 things I'm thankful that I learned from him. And here they are:

10. To do for others. My dad was always very generous with his time and wanted to help his family.

9. To tuck in my kids. He always tucked me in at night when I was younger, and the boys love that I tuck them in the same way. Pushing the covers around their legs and saying "tuck, tuck, tuck."

8. To not take yourself too seriously. He was a very funny person, and I learned that it's ok to laugh at yourself. Life is more fun that way.

7. To be proud of who you are. My dad, and mom, taught all of their kids to be confident.

6. To give your best effort. And if that still doesn't work, you know you tried your hardest.

5. To be together. There were times I didn't understand this one as I grew up, but now I know how important it is. I hope my kids will know one day, too.

4. To hug and kiss when you leave. Greg says our goodbyes need "pre-goodbyes." It takes awhile.

3. To be there. Dad answered the phone nearly every time I called, and showed up at every family event, or kids' activity. He didn't miss.

2. To create traditions. That's what my dad was all about. He fostered a feeling of togetherness among all of us, and we now pass it on to our own.

1. Finally, to love your family. It's your backbone in life, and will get you through the bad times, and help you celebrate the good. It's who you lean on.

I miss you, Dad. And I'm thankful you were my father.

No One Would Stare

Ever been so sick that you couldn't reach for a box of tissues?

Me, neither.

Write It Down Next Time

Greg and I have a running joke.

Some weekend mornings, he goes to pick up McDonalds breakfast for the family. I'll give him my order, only for him to return WITHOUT it. He always forgets. Always feels bad, but always forgets.

Last night, he called home to ask me if he could bring me anything because I've been sick. I asked for Gatorade, lemon-lime flavor.

A few minutes later, I called him as he was walking in to the store. "We need a gallon of milk," I told him. He said he'd get it and be right home.

I was lying on the couch when Greg walked in with the milk. "Where's the Gatorade," I asked? Greg's response...

"Aaaagghh...I forgot it."

Isn't that the REASON he even went to the store in the first place?

My New Pals: Saltines and 7-UP

The flubug. I have it.

I can honestly say I haven't felt this bad since I was pregnant with both boys, and literally sick for several months.

Even though I'm 36, there's something about being sick that makes you want to say...

I want my mommy.

Dancin Feet

I had my first dance lesson today.

Let me explain.

I have signed on to dance with a professional dancer for a non-profit organization. This may surprise you since I am known for falling up the stairs and tripping over my own size-10 feet.

Yet, today...I shocked even myself.

After two hours of working with my dance instructor, I think I actually have RHYTHM! And even better...

He didn't leave laughing.

My husband doesn't have much faith, (can't blame him, since I literally RUN INTO WALLS in the house), but I think he'll be surprised.

Bring it on.

9 Things I Do

As we age, we learn more about ourselves.

Some of the things we learn are good, some are silly. Here is a list of both, as I've come to realize it's what makes me ME.

I make "To-Do" lists and put them in my purse, only to never look at them again.

I drink my coffee at work out of a styrofoam cup with the stir still in it.

I often paint my nails in the car when Greg is driving.

I use envelopes from junk mail for bookmarks.

I often don't wear a winter coat because I get too warm in my car.

I memorize phone numbers. I know my old home number growing up, a friend's from elementary school, and my cell number from 10 years ago.

I like to give exact change. If its $10.32, I give the 32 cents from my wallet.

I will read the last page of my People Magazine FIRST. Every time.

And finally, I say the phrase "Long story short" a lot as I'm telling a story to a friend, but trying to keep it brief. Which it NEVER is.

And that's me in a nutshell.

Some Things to Remember

I was recently invited to an engagement dinner for someone getting married soon. All couples attending were asked to write a few words of advice for a happy marriage. I wrote this...

It's love, and it's laughter

Then laughing some more

A gentleman who occasionally opens her door.

A foundation of friendship

A trust that's unbroken

A glance full of words that don't have to be spoken.

A hand on a shoulder

"I love you's" each day

Not being too proud to have the last say.

It's giving, not taking

Enjoying the miles

That's my advice for a marriage of smiles.

Like A Deer In the Headlights

The boys asked if they could have some of their Halloween candy last night.

I mean, we only have 3 huge bags of it left, so why not? I let them each choose a couple of pieces and they went on their way, unwrapping the candy as fast as they could.

I went to put the candy away and eyed a little pouch of M&M's, which were calling my name.

So I ripped open a bag.

As I sat eating the chocolate, Griffin ran up to me to ask me something. He also eyed the M&M's, and his face said it all.

Momma got into my Halloween stash.

To put it mildly, Griff is a little territorial about his candy. I had to think quick on my feet. Here's how the conversation panned out...

Griffin: Whatcha doin?

Me: Ummmmmm...nothing.

Griffin: Where'd you get those?

Me: Well, um, I got them from...(stalling, stalling)...You know what Griff? You guys got some treats...and I figured, Momma works hard to be a good parent, so I thought I deserve a treat, too.

LONG PAUSE

Griffin stares at me very seriously, nods his head, and says,

"Yes, Mom, yes you do."

And with that, he walked away.

Dodged that one.

Magic Stairs

That's what my 3-year-old calls an "escalator."

If I dare mention going to the mall, he gets excited. Not to shop. But to ride the magic stairs.

I've never understood his interest in the escalator. It goes up...it comes down. No music. No fast-paced amusement thrill. Yet, we ride it anyway. Even when we don't need to.

His interest in the magic stairs reminds me of when I was a child.

I loved going to the Buster Brown shoe store. I was fixated with the statue of Buster Brown that was actually a helium tank for balloons., and the spout came out of his mouth. I wanted new shoes all the time, and it made my day to make the trip to Muncie where the store was located.

Knowing this, we ride the magic stairs. Again and again.

And one more time.

Everyone Has One

Everyone has a story.

I believe that. Some may be more exciting than others, but everyone has a defining moment in their life where they realize who they are, why they are here, and where they are going.

I often try to imagine the "story" behind the various people I encounter in my life. Because everyone has one.

Like the man who sits alone at Wendy's, eating his lunch. Is he dining alone by choice? Is his wife at home, or passed on? Does he secretly wish he had a companion to converse with, or is he content by himself?

Or the man I often pass at the corner of Keystone and 86th Street, holding a sign that reads, "Will work for food. God Bless." What led him to his current situation? Does he have family? And how long has he been down on his luck?

Or the woman with no hair paying in front of me at CVS. What illness does she have? What's the prognosis? Does she live each day as though it's her last?

We all have a story. I'm writing mine.

What's yours?

12 Things I love

While shopping the other day, I heard "The 12 Days of Christmas" being played over the store's speakers. So, here are twelve random things I enjoy, not necessarily just about the holidays.

Seatwarmers in my car.

MAC "Oh baby" lipgloss.

Seeing a freshly cut Christmas tree on top of someone's car while passing them on the road.

Getting thank-you notes in the mail.

Seeing my boys hug each other tight.

Finding a pair of size 9 1/2 shoes.

Sitting under the dryer at the hair salon, reading a magazine without interruption.

Sea Salt Bagel Chips.

When my 3-year-old asks me to tickle his arm, just like I used to do as a child.

When my husband wears his hat backwards.

Surprising my son for lunch at school.

And finally, finding money I'd forgotten about in a coat pocket.

And there you have it.

Hi Dad, It's Me...

It's been three months since I've seen you.

Hard to believe, yet the world keeps on turning, sometimes unfairly. The changing of the seasons is bittersweet, because it's one more reminder that life continues without you.

Three months seems like an eternity.

That's three months since I've walked into your home and found you sitting with your feet up on a footrest, eating from a can of Pringles potato chips.

Three months since I've been able to run the palm of my hand over the "peach fuzz" you had left for hair.

Three months since I've been able to tease you about wearing your white socks pulled up to your calves. Yet you wore them anyway.

Three months since you have walked through the room while pulling up your pants that always seemed to be falling down.

Three months since you've sat next to me at one of Griffin's ballgames, sipping a cup of McDonald's coffee with cream and sweetener. By the way, I drink mine the same way.

Three months since I've hugged you, taking in the scent of your cigars and Head and Shoulders shampoo. You've used that shampoo since I was little. Somehow, I miss it.

Trying to focus on the positive, some good things have happened during the last three months that you have been gone.

Griffin got the game ball in basketball, Saturday. You would have been so proud.

The boys now know all of the words to "Daddy's Little Girl," and ask for "Papaw's song" in the car. That makes me smile.

Hayden now dresses himself, though his underwear is usually on backwards.

They now tease Mamaw that they will "put her in the trash can...and put the lid on it," just like you used to say to them. It makes them giggle.

Griffin wrote his Veteran's Day letter to you, then called me in Nashville to read it over the phone. He told me he saw your picture in your Army uniform at the funeral.

I recently overheard Hayden telling someone while pointing at a star in the sky, "Look, there's my Papaw Mike." The kids talk about you daily.

And finally, three months since I've been able to call and ask for advice. Didn't matter if it was how to fix something, or kid-related, you knew the answer.

We miss you.

I'll Watch It At Home

Speaking of the Colts game, how would you like your view to be THIS?

Seats? Who Needs 'Em

Took the boys to the Colts game today.

Always a fun time, yet a busy one as well. Mainly because we have a 3-year-old. Here's how our day went:

11:30 am...Leave home.

11:38 am...3-year-old asks, "Are we there yet?"

11:45 am...Same child asks, "How much LONGER?"

12 noon...Boys both ask when we will be able to park the car.

12:30 pm...We are officially stuck in traffic.

12:40 pm...Still stuck in traffic.

12:52 pm...Park, finally.

1:00 pm...Make our way inside the stadium and find our seats.

1:10 pm...3-year-old needs to use the "potty."

1:15 pm...3-year-old plays with the automatic towel dispenser in the bathroom

1:20 pm...7-year-old and I see our faces on the big screen!"

1:22 pm...My phone starts buzzing with texts from friends who say, "Hey, I just saw you on the big screen!

1:25 pm...Greg returns to seats with 4 hotdogs, 2 lemonades and 2 diet Pepsis.

1:45 pm...7-year-old says nature is callin.

1:58 pm...3-year-old announces he is tired and wants to sit in my lap.

2:30 pm...Greg returns to seats with popcorn.

2:45 pm...3-year-old needs to potty, RIGHT NOW!

2:50 pm...Return with cotton candy.

3:00 pm...Take 3-year-old to restroom to wash his sticky fingers (Thank goodness we sat on the aisle.)

3:15 pm...Get smacked in the head with a foam finger from the person behind me.

Oh...and did I mention we watched a football game?

What Did You Say?

Kids talk in code.

Skip me learning another language. Adults have a hard-enough time trying to figure out what their kids are saying.

Tonight, Hayden wasn't watching where he stepped, and landed ankle-deep in water. He later told his dad that he stepped in a "water pud." That would be water "puddle." Other code words used in our house, either currently or in the past:

Big Donalds...McDonalds

Cheffer...a chef

shaky...chocolate shake

plug-ears...(Hayden used this one today...wanting some earplugs at Griff's basketball game

steam..."seam"...the favorite part of Hayden's blanket

movie puter...movie theatre

And on and on and on. I love what they come up with.

So I'm Sentimental...

I have a confession.

Remember back in August when Greg and I had a garage sale? And I had trouble parting with some of the items the boys used when they were younger?

I told you that Greg put what didn't sell in my trunk and asked me to take them to Goodwill. "A trunk full of memories," I called it. I promised to do so, but knew I wouldn't go right away. I drove from home to work, to the mall, and in between, even resorted to putting my groceries in the boys' carseats. Needless to say...

Those memories are still in my trunk. And it's November. Maybe it's time to take them back into the house.

I obviously can't do it.

There Are Boys in My House

As one of three girls, it was rather quiet in my house growing up. Lots of tea parties, and playing school, where my older sister always insisted she was the teacher.

I'm now the mother of two boys, and I don't know quiet any longer. It's a whole new type of parenting. The energy level of boys has taken some getting used to, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I wrote this about living with Griffin and Hayden.

There are boys in my house

One big one, two small

Toys scattered in bedrooms and all down the hall

They swing their make-believe swords through the air

With dirt on their faces and tousled blonde hair

Footballs, big trucks, and gooey green slime

So full of energy, no concept of time

Then it's off to get bad guys and slide down the stairs

They make forts with a blanket thrown over two chairs

They live for video games and books about sports

They're obsessed with team jerseys and elastic-type shorts.

They will frown over showers, and avoid tucks in bed,

Remote-control airplanes will fly by my head,

They like to get dirty, and they're always too loud

Yet nothing could make me more happy or proud.

There are boys in my house

Listen close and you'll hear

"I love you, Momma" when one hugs me dear.

Then it's back to their capes, and the heroes they play

And I count my blessings because I can say...

There are boys in my house.

Keith and Nicole's Baby Photo Revealed!

"Keithette."

That's what actress Nicole Kidman says she sometimes calls her baby with Keith Urban. She says the nickname came about because Sunday Rose looks more like Keith, though she did inherit her momma's fair skin.

During an appearance on Oprah this week, Nicole surprisingly showed the talk-show host and the audience a photo of her and the baby sleeping. Apparently, Keith captured it on his iphone.

Adorable.

Things I Learned From My Hotel Stay

I leave Nashville soon.

The morning show has been here for CMA week, and the awards will be handed out tonight.

Traveling without my husband and boys is different. Not bad, just different. I stay in my own hotel room, and I'm on my own schedule. So, here are the top ten things I have learned from staying in a hotel room solo.

10. I don't fill the ice bucket. Ever. I am rarely thirsty, and never had a soda in my room. Hence, no ice.

9. I actually watched an entire television program! John and Kate Plus 8 was interesting. And I thought dinner at my house was loud...yikes.

7. You can't work out if you don't pack your tennis shoes. I forgot them, and figured I'd look pretty silly wearing my UGG's on the treadmill. Not that I didn't consider it.

6. The girl who sets up my wake-up call is shocked when I tell her I need awakened at 3:15 am. The guys must have called her too, because she said, "You're another one who has to get up THAT early?

5. I can take a 4-hour nap. With no kids around, and no one to pick up from school, I slept. And slept. And slept.

4. If I'd known there was a microwave in my room, I would have brought popcorn for a late-night snack. Instead, we picked up corndogs and milkshakes around the corner from our hotel. About the same in fat grams, right?

3. The tiny "pouch" of Lays potato chips in the courtesy basket costs $3.50! At that price, those chips better be the giant-sized bag and come with a vat of onion dip. And a breathmint.

2. I don't use the dressers in hotel rooms. Something about unpacking and putting my clothes where other guests have put their clothes. Instead, I keep them in my suitcase. Hey, makes packing to leave easier.

And the #1 thing I learned from my hotel stay...

1. Don't eat Wheat Thins in bed.

And there you have it.

Got Biscuits?

Here in Nashville, Tennessee, we visited the well-known Loveless Cafe.

All the stars eat here, and proof of that was all over the restaurant's walls. Miley Cyrus, Conan O'Brien, and Reba had autographed their photos to the owners. The place is awesome, and as luck would have it, we walked out five pounds heavier. I ate three days worth of food.

We met the "Biscuit Lady," who has made the biscuits at the cafe' for 27 years. She's appeared on Martha Stewart, the Today Show, and Conan O'Brien. And she stepped away from her lunch break for a quick photo with us.

It's now been nearly 24 hours since our lunch, and we are still talking about how full we are.

P.S. Alan Jackson ate there three weeks ago. And try the catfish.

Just Wrap Me in Bubble Wrap

The morning show is in Nashville, Tennessee for the CMA Awards.

Which means we are staying in a hotel. I'm weird about hotels. Not to the point that I can't function. I just get uneasy about the lack of cleanliness.

It doesn't help that our producer, Roland, told me as we were checking in that he recently watched a documentary on how hotels clean, or DON'T clean, the drinking glasses in the room.

He said maids were seen on a hidden camera washing the glasses in the sink and using the dirty towels on the bathroom floor to dry them.

Note to self: Bring plastic cups.

I never use the comforters on the bed...who knows when those have been cleaned last...and I'm not fond of walking barefoot on the carpet floors.

Note to self: Bring socks...lots of socks.

Roland has a weird routine as well. He doesn't leave his hotel room without leaving his television on to make others think someone is in there. As he heads out the door, he also yells loudly, "Ok, we'll be back in just a bit," to some make-believe friend in the room. He's hoping it will deter others from trying to break in.

And they say I'M weird.

Jennifer Aniston Should Try This

I read somewhere months ago that Jennifer Aniston does 300 situps every night.

I decided I should give my stomach a workout each evening before I hop in bed. Still, I didn't want to shoot for the moon. So I settled on the magic number of 100.

Needless to say, I got bored by situp 38. So, I threw in an incentive.

I laid a bag of M&M's on my stomach, and gave myself permission to pop one in my mouth every three crunches. I'm happy to report that I completed 100 situps last night...

...and ate ten grams of saturated fat.

Hopeless.

Signs From Dad

"It's a sign."

That's what a friend of mine tells me every time something "happens" that reminds me of my father. He's been gone three months, and maybe it's his way of letting me know he's watching over me.

One of those signs occurred today.

Four days before my Dad died, I told him about a new family-owned cafe' that I wanted him to try. They serve breakfast for dinner, which was his favorite. So, today, after Griffin's game, we took my Mom to the new cafe. Greg went to pay at the counter, and called my name.

I looked up to see him pointing at a bowl of Tootsie Rolls by the cash register.

Dad always handed his grandchildren a Tootsie Roll when they left his home. It was their "thing."

In some small way, I think my Dad dined with us.

Want The Truth? Ask a Toddler

Getting ready today, my 3-year-old walked into the bathroom and asked me, "Momma, what's that smell?"

I smiled, assuming he was referring to the perfume I had just sprayed. You may recall, Hayden's sense of smell is very strong. He smells the exhaust of someone else's car driving down the road. I told him it was Mommy's new perfume. His response?

"Well, it smells like vomit."

Hope I saved my receipt.

Put Yourself Out There

A couple of years ago, I decided to try new things.

One of those is guacamole, and now I love it. I eat it once a week. In my boldness, I decided to try something else.

I'm writing a novel.

I have always enjoyed writing, but never made time for it. When my father passed away recently, I found writing on a daily basis has helped organize my thoughts, which have been all over the place. I really enjoy it. So, I've taken the plunge.

I came across a headline titled, "Can you write a novel in 30 days?" I think I can. I began earlier this week, and so far, no writer's block.

It may never be a best-seller, yet the challenge is fulfilling. Here's to putting yourself out there. Kinda like food my kids refuse to eat, but have never tasted...You won't know until you try.

Let's Hear it For Creativity

Where do you hide your cash?

A new survey says the number-one location to hide money in homes is inside a box of...ahem...women's hygiene products.

Oooooooooookay.

Gotta admit, I wouldn't be looking for money in there. Pretty clever. Other interesting places were in someone's freezer, inside a stuffed animal, and under a mattress.

With my luck, I'd forget where I put it. Stick with a piggy bank, and hide THAT.

Toby Tells It Like It Is

Toby Keith dropped by WFMS last week.

He told us he coaches his son's football team, and yes, hears some criticism from other players' parents. They often want to know why their son isn't playing. Toby had an easy response.

"Because they aren't any good."

Oooooooooooooook.

A Life Lesson in 55 Minutes

I voted yesterday.

Expecting long lines, and hoping to kill time, I stopped by a bookstore on the way to pick up something to read. Got my book, got my Starbucks, had my ID, and I headed to the polls.

In line, I cracked open my new book and began reading. But, I didn't make it past the third paragraph. Behind me in line, I heard a voice say, "You like Starbucks, too?"

I turned around and stood face-to-face with a woman who reminded me of my grandmother. Next to her was her husband, a frail man who had his arm draped around her shoulders.

I found this couple more interesting than reading my book, as they seemed to represent a slice of life that we all hope to become. Over the next 55 minutes, I took in as much as I could about this couple. As we exchanged stories, it dawned on me that we would soon part ways, never to speak again. This letter is to them...

To the couple behind me in line,

You made my day yesterday. Talking with you was refreshing, like when you said you moved to the neighborhood to be around families, because getting trick-or-treaters at your door is "what life is all about."

Or when you said you both considered voting early, but instead chose to vote on Election Day itself. You said there is something historical about voting the actual day. And so you were willing to wait.

You said you had been married 41 years. I could see in your eyes how much you admired each other as you finished each other's sentences.

I loved that you buy candy bars and popcorn from every child that comes selling it at your door, because "it's the right thing to do." You explained that others bought from your kids, and now it's your turn.

Leaving the polls, I felt good about that 55 minutes. I voted. And I was reminded there are some good people right under our noses.

See you at Starbucks.

The Club with No Meetings

Moms.

We may have different interests and hobbies, but one thing will always bond us together...motherhood.

Once we become mothers, our lives change forever. We are issued an imaginative membership card to a club we didn't know existed. A club with no meetings where dues are paid in full. Not with money, but with staying up late when our children are sick, and with the knowledge that we will worry for a lifetime.

I found this to be true during our fall break, while at SeaWorld. Hayden wanted to crawl around in a gigantic tube-like jungle gym that stood several stories high. (Think Chick-Fil-A, times twelve.) The signs warned that there were many exits to the contraption, and to agree on a meeting place with your children. Worried about his safety, I decided the only way I would be able to keep track of my stubborn 3-year-old was to go with him.

Parents were welcome, though I soon discovered the never-ending tubes were not designed for us as we crawled on hands and knees. Hayden shouted "this is awesome!" and I repeatedly scraped my back as I maneuvered the maze and wondered when I would once again be able to stand upright.

Just when I was feeling silly, I came face-to-face with another mother, and it was apparent she was doing the same thing.

We both laughed, and she said, "The things we do for our kids."

Spoken like a true club member.

How a 7-Year-Old Votes

It's Election Day.

Griffin came home yesterday and told me soon we would have a new President. And that he has decided to go with Barack Obama, that is, if he was old enough to vote.

"Well, do you know anything about him?" I asked. "Yes," Griff said, "this and that, and this and that."

"Well, how did you make your decision," I asked? "It was easy," he said...

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe."

Good advice for what NOT to do.

Toby Packs His Suitcase

Wanna live in Toby Keith's Nashville pad? You could for 1.6 million.

It's on the market.

The house is much smaller than his Oklahoma mansion, at 3,400 square feet, featuring two bedrooms and two-and-a-half baths.

The Little Guy Reflects

"I sure do miss the old days, Mom."

Those were the words of my 7-year-old last night on the way home from dinner. Griffin sighed when he said it. I sometimes feel like I'm talking to an adult when he's around. We had stopped at a gas station, and my husband was putting fuel in the car.

I asked him what he meant.

"Well," he explained, "Dad used to ask me to climb in his lap and help him pull the car into the garage. But, he doesn't ask anymore."

He doesn't ask anymore because Griffin is no longer a toddler. He's grown rather tall and it's hard for him to fit like he used to.

Yet, tonight, our long-legged second-grader climbed onto his Daddy's lap, (knocked over a drink in the process...but, no big deal), and guided the car into place in our garage.

Let's hear it for the good ol' days.

Note To Self: Remove Tags

I just cleaned out my closet.

In doing so, I found a top I had been looking for. This top is a camel-colored fancy thing that I wore to a New Year's Eve party at a friend's home last year.

Haven't seen it since.

In my unorganization, the sweater had been tossed behind a laundry bin, and blended in with my carpet, never to be seen again. Until now. Imagine my surprise when I held it up, only to spot a transparent "Small" seal on the lower left waist of the top.

Remember now, I had ALREADY WORN IT.

And apparently, announced to everyone at the party that I was sportin' something new.

Winner.

Ever Had One of Those Weeks?

All I know is I'm glad it's the weekend. Both of these could apply!