I've been super bored today. I was all ready to go to the pool and then the thunder started and hasn't stopped since. Boo thunder. But my oh-so-wonderful husband decided to email me a list of things I could be doing instead of complaining to him (via email). So the next time YOU are bored try these:
Think of places to go bathing suit shopping
Run around the house
Play the guitar
Let me buy a motorcycle (which I will not by the way)
Let ice melt in your belly button
Spit on bugs
Make a carpet angel
Throw carrots at the wall and see if they go through
Suck spaghetti noodles through your nose and out your mouth to floss your sinus area
Hit apples off the balcony with my racquetball racquet
See how high you can stack books w/out them falling
Build a card castle
Watch water boil
Build an indoor campsite
Kill wasps with hairspray (or quilt basting spray -- like I just did)
Tie your shoelaces together and practice walking
Burn fabric with an iron
Use a utensil with your feet
Tie your legs together and jump around
Juggle tennis balls
See how many slices of bread you can fit in your mouth
Eat of spoonful of half-sugar, half-salt
Blow peanuts out of your nose
Duct tape your mouth shut and see how long you can leave it
Play yourself in paper football and win
Put all pictures in your album upside down
Melt ice between your butt cheeks
Walk on thumb tacks (with shoes) and see how many stick
Play apartment golf
Put all your pillows outside
Tie all your towels together to climb down the balcony
Burn said towel rope and see if you can beat the flames up
Siphon water out of the bathtub into the toilet
Run around the complex holding your hands up the whole time
Of course what ge could have said was "Get off your butt and clean the house!" but he didn't and that's just one more reason to love him. =)
.
Friday, May 23, 2008
For Lisa....
So I just got a comment on "The Latest" asking how much I charge for a personalized Burpie Set. The thing is - no email address was left and since I know a couple of Lisa's I am just going to reply here for the world to see. The sets are $20 plus shipping. That price includes the name on the burpie and an initial on the bib. =)
The lastest
I just finished this etsy order: 
It might be my favorite so far! I'm not sure why I like it so much - probably because it has green and brown and I'm a little bit obsessed with those two colors right now.
It might be my favorite so far! I'm not sure why I like it so much - probably because it has green and brown and I'm a little bit obsessed with those two colors right now.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
My Momma.
Love. That is the word that comes to mind when I think about my mother. She embodies love, and I have never once even thought of questioning her love for me. She has demonstrated it everyday of my life – even now that we live hours apart.
I sat down yesterday to make a little list of some of my favorite memories of Momma and of things that she has taught me and passed on to me through the years. What I thought would be a simple list of things that I could expound on and blog about today became a two page list that I could not “narrow down” even if I wanted to. So, dear readers, know that this post is long and drawn out and probably way too detailed, but it is for my mom. I want you to read it and know what an amazing and wonderful person she is, but MOST IMPORTANTLY I want her to read it and know that I love her and she means the world to me.
Momma, I love you and you mean the world to me. You know me better than almost anyone so I know that you know how out of character it is for me to write this. Douglas is the letter writer – I am the gift sender. I am terrible at expressing my true feelings around you and the rest of my immediate family – happy, sad, and everything in between. It is not that I want to keep these things from you or that I am embarrassed to say it – it’s a self preservation thing that even I don’t understand most of the time. Sometimes I’m afraid that my heart will explode and the tears will never stop (again, happy or sad) if I show any kind of emotion. I know you know this already – you’ve seen it time and again. But just because I have an issue sometimes with saying the words and talking about stuff doesn’t mean that I don’t love you or respect you or think that you are pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread (or dill pickles).
My childhood was off the charts wonderful. I always knew to a certain extent that I was very blessed to have you and daddy as my parents, but now I understand more and more how truly rare my childhood and adolescence was and how great it is to have the relationship with you that I have today. I’ve been reminded in recent days from listening to so many of the ladies in my Bible Study tell their own stories – stories that are very, very different from my own. I am truly blessed.
We have wonderful memories. I remember going for walks and picnics pulling the little red wagon full of snacks. We would sing “The Ants Go Marching” over and over again and Douglas would make up words to it. We would find huge mushrooms that we called “boats” and we would walk around collecting feathers and flowers and pebbles to use for the boat’s decorations. We would search for the perfect stick and leaf to make the “sail” and then once it was “just right” we would go down to the swimming hole and set it out to “sea.”
I remember you hitting the rooster in the head with your high heeled shoe when it jumped me and Doug that Sunday after church. We learned not to lick the “beaters” with mashed potatoes on them in front of the chicken yard.
I remember building tents in the living room. You are the best living-room-tent-builder. We would use every sheet and blanket and clothespin in the house and then you would make popcorn and we would spend hours just playing under there.
I remember The Tea Lady and her crazy antics in the bathtub.
I remember riding all the way to the Camp on our bikes and the time we saw the water moccasin on Bobby Stewart Road and flagged Bobby down to kill it. He shot its head off and I remember thinking that I wanted to do that one day.
I remember standing on a chair in the old utility room so you could hem or pin or adjust whatever Halloween costume or pageant dress that you were sewing at the moment. I remember complaining incessantly about that part, but being so happy when Doug and I won the Costume Contest . . . again.
I remember the three of us swimming across the lake with only one float and how you would scream and pretend a turtle had bitten your toe and how I couldn’t get my whole body onto that float fast enough. I remember you thinking that was hilarious and me thinking that you should be kicked in the head.
I remember summer lunches in the cafeteria at the camp and Indian Campfires.
I remember that you believed me when, at the age of seven, I climbed down from that tree in the backyard and told you that “Jesus now lives in my heart.” It was true.
Yes, my childhood was wonderful.
I remember being so excited about my first youth group trip to MissionFuge the summer of 1997. Our group was leaving the church at some ungodly hour the next morning and Troy and I had already been on the phone for hours talking about how much fun we were going to have. I remember that around midnight or so you looked at me (still in the phone) and said, “Go load your stuff in the car. We’ll go over there.” There was no chance I was going to let you sleep anyway, so we loaded my stuff, drove to Troy’s and sat up talking all night with him and his mom. I vaguely remember falling asleep next to Troy on the floor of the living room shortly before it was time to leave for camp.
I remember wanting to be a cheerleader, like, my whole life. When I finally got the chance to try out as a freshman and made the squad I was thrilled. Little did I know that the coach would turn out to be one of the most manipulative, mean spirited, bitchy people ever to walk the earth and that I would loathe ever minute of being on that squad. I remember you not letting me quit – even when I cried and begged and cried some more. I didn’t understand then – you were trying to teach me to finish what I started – even if it was hard. What a life lesson learned there!
I remember you sleeping with me in my bed when I watched a scary movie or read a scary book and didn’t want to be alone in the dark.
I remember you staying up with me until all hours of the night writing paper after paper for my English IV class through LSU. We did an entire 2 semesters worth of work from January to April and I managed to graduate and walk with the Anacoco High School class of 2001. We both know that that would not have happened without you. At least I know that. Hopefully now you do too. It also wouldn’t have happened without Nash – he totally let me copy his geometry and chemistry homework every night of my life that year.
I remember coming home from two trips to Africa and seeing you and daddy standing in the airport with your arms open wide. It was your prayers that got me through that second trip. I cherish your prayers.
I remember making moles for chemistry. Stupid, stupid chemistry.
I remember knowing without a doubt that if I randomly showed up at the house with say, 10 college friends that you would cook for us no matter what hour of the night we showed up.
I remember thinking that my car had been stolen from the Esplanade Mall parking lot for thirty minutes or so and then realizing after a near panic attack on both of our parts that we were just on the wrong side of the mall. How were we supposed to know that the food court had IDENTICAL parking lots on each side of the mall? And I remember Papa making fun of us when we told him about it that night.
I remember watching you make my wedding cake the morning of my wedding.
I remember you letting me move home from Hawaii after I had a serious nervous breakdown from being separated from Justin. I remember you letting me move home from Korea when we decided I needed to return to the States and get a job. Basically I know that I can come home any time I need to and you will take care of me.
I remember that when all the crap went down with the church and what they accused me of that you (and daddy) never even asked me if any of it was true. You knew it wasn’t and that still means the world to me. I was having to defend myself to people that SHOULD HAVE KNOWN none of it was true and the fact that you didn’t make me defend myself to you spoke more love to me than you will ever know.
There are millions more memories like those.
You are the best momma ever and I would not be the woman that I am today had it not been for you. You raised me to the glory and honor of God and I know that He is so proud of the job you have done. I know I’m married now and not under your roof anymore, but you will always be my momma and I am forever grateful for that. I pray you know how much I love you and that when I fail to show it in normal ways (lets face it, I am so not normal!) that you can look back on this and know that it is true. Thank you for being who you are and for loving me the way you do.
I sat down yesterday to make a little list of some of my favorite memories of Momma and of things that she has taught me and passed on to me through the years. What I thought would be a simple list of things that I could expound on and blog about today became a two page list that I could not “narrow down” even if I wanted to. So, dear readers, know that this post is long and drawn out and probably way too detailed, but it is for my mom. I want you to read it and know what an amazing and wonderful person she is, but MOST IMPORTANTLY I want her to read it and know that I love her and she means the world to me.
Momma, I love you and you mean the world to me. You know me better than almost anyone so I know that you know how out of character it is for me to write this. Douglas is the letter writer – I am the gift sender. I am terrible at expressing my true feelings around you and the rest of my immediate family – happy, sad, and everything in between. It is not that I want to keep these things from you or that I am embarrassed to say it – it’s a self preservation thing that even I don’t understand most of the time. Sometimes I’m afraid that my heart will explode and the tears will never stop (again, happy or sad) if I show any kind of emotion. I know you know this already – you’ve seen it time and again. But just because I have an issue sometimes with saying the words and talking about stuff doesn’t mean that I don’t love you or respect you or think that you are pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread (or dill pickles).
My childhood was off the charts wonderful. I always knew to a certain extent that I was very blessed to have you and daddy as my parents, but now I understand more and more how truly rare my childhood and adolescence was and how great it is to have the relationship with you that I have today. I’ve been reminded in recent days from listening to so many of the ladies in my Bible Study tell their own stories – stories that are very, very different from my own. I am truly blessed.
We have wonderful memories. I remember going for walks and picnics pulling the little red wagon full of snacks. We would sing “The Ants Go Marching” over and over again and Douglas would make up words to it. We would find huge mushrooms that we called “boats” and we would walk around collecting feathers and flowers and pebbles to use for the boat’s decorations. We would search for the perfect stick and leaf to make the “sail” and then once it was “just right” we would go down to the swimming hole and set it out to “sea.”
I remember you hitting the rooster in the head with your high heeled shoe when it jumped me and Doug that Sunday after church. We learned not to lick the “beaters” with mashed potatoes on them in front of the chicken yard.
I remember building tents in the living room. You are the best living-room-tent-builder. We would use every sheet and blanket and clothespin in the house and then you would make popcorn and we would spend hours just playing under there.
I remember The Tea Lady and her crazy antics in the bathtub.
I remember riding all the way to the Camp on our bikes and the time we saw the water moccasin on Bobby Stewart Road and flagged Bobby down to kill it. He shot its head off and I remember thinking that I wanted to do that one day.
I remember standing on a chair in the old utility room so you could hem or pin or adjust whatever Halloween costume or pageant dress that you were sewing at the moment. I remember complaining incessantly about that part, but being so happy when Doug and I won the Costume Contest . . . again.
I remember the three of us swimming across the lake with only one float and how you would scream and pretend a turtle had bitten your toe and how I couldn’t get my whole body onto that float fast enough. I remember you thinking that was hilarious and me thinking that you should be kicked in the head.
I remember summer lunches in the cafeteria at the camp and Indian Campfires.
I remember that you believed me when, at the age of seven, I climbed down from that tree in the backyard and told you that “Jesus now lives in my heart.” It was true.
Yes, my childhood was wonderful.
I remember being so excited about my first youth group trip to MissionFuge the summer of 1997. Our group was leaving the church at some ungodly hour the next morning and Troy and I had already been on the phone for hours talking about how much fun we were going to have. I remember that around midnight or so you looked at me (still in the phone) and said, “Go load your stuff in the car. We’ll go over there.” There was no chance I was going to let you sleep anyway, so we loaded my stuff, drove to Troy’s and sat up talking all night with him and his mom. I vaguely remember falling asleep next to Troy on the floor of the living room shortly before it was time to leave for camp.
I remember wanting to be a cheerleader, like, my whole life. When I finally got the chance to try out as a freshman and made the squad I was thrilled. Little did I know that the coach would turn out to be one of the most manipulative, mean spirited, bitchy people ever to walk the earth and that I would loathe ever minute of being on that squad. I remember you not letting me quit – even when I cried and begged and cried some more. I didn’t understand then – you were trying to teach me to finish what I started – even if it was hard. What a life lesson learned there!
I remember you sleeping with me in my bed when I watched a scary movie or read a scary book and didn’t want to be alone in the dark.
I remember you staying up with me until all hours of the night writing paper after paper for my English IV class through LSU. We did an entire 2 semesters worth of work from January to April and I managed to graduate and walk with the Anacoco High School class of 2001. We both know that that would not have happened without you. At least I know that. Hopefully now you do too. It also wouldn’t have happened without Nash – he totally let me copy his geometry and chemistry homework every night of my life that year.
I remember coming home from two trips to Africa and seeing you and daddy standing in the airport with your arms open wide. It was your prayers that got me through that second trip. I cherish your prayers.
I remember making moles for chemistry. Stupid, stupid chemistry.
I remember knowing without a doubt that if I randomly showed up at the house with say, 10 college friends that you would cook for us no matter what hour of the night we showed up.
I remember thinking that my car had been stolen from the Esplanade Mall parking lot for thirty minutes or so and then realizing after a near panic attack on both of our parts that we were just on the wrong side of the mall. How were we supposed to know that the food court had IDENTICAL parking lots on each side of the mall? And I remember Papa making fun of us when we told him about it that night.
I remember watching you make my wedding cake the morning of my wedding.
I remember you letting me move home from Hawaii after I had a serious nervous breakdown from being separated from Justin. I remember you letting me move home from Korea when we decided I needed to return to the States and get a job. Basically I know that I can come home any time I need to and you will take care of me.
I remember that when all the crap went down with the church and what they accused me of that you (and daddy) never even asked me if any of it was true. You knew it wasn’t and that still means the world to me. I was having to defend myself to people that SHOULD HAVE KNOWN none of it was true and the fact that you didn’t make me defend myself to you spoke more love to me than you will ever know.
There are millions more memories like those.
You are the best momma ever and I would not be the woman that I am today had it not been for you. You raised me to the glory and honor of God and I know that He is so proud of the job you have done. I know I’m married now and not under your roof anymore, but you will always be my momma and I am forever grateful for that. I pray you know how much I love you and that when I fail to show it in normal ways (lets face it, I am so not normal!) that you can look back on this and know that it is true. Thank you for being who you are and for loving me the way you do.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Field Trip
Gracie's class had a field trip yesterday to The World of Coca-Cola and The Varsity and I got to go with her. We had a great time! We rode up there with two other girls in her class and their moms (grandma). I was in the back with the girls so I had to try really hard to hear the adult conversations taking place in the front seat. The three 6 year olds in the back with me were loud and throughout the course of the trip to Atlanta and back these are some snippits of what I overheard while trying to hold conversations of my own with the grown ups...
Grace: Mrs. Stephanie has a pool and a creek and a pond and rocks and stairs and a playground at her house.
Kid 1: Mrs. Stephanie... I'm coming to stay with you ok?
Kid 2: Me too! Me too! Me too! ME TOOOOOOOOO!
Me: Huh? Sure babes. Come on.
Grace: No it wasn't. Use the voice you use when you sing with the man on the cd.
Me: {thinking...thinking...lightbulb! She wants me to sing the harmony part!} so I sing it all again but this time I sing the harmony instead of the melody and Grace is all smiles and then there was endless applause and a standing ovation. Ok not really. But there was applause.
Grace: {looks at Kid #1 all I-told-you-so-ish} I TOLD YOU she could sing.
a few more minutes later when the car is completely quiet...
Grace: Mrs. Stephanie can shoot tears out of her eyes.
Front and back seats: HAHAHAHAHA!
Me: Oh good grief Grace! How do you even KNOW that?
Grace: 'Cause you showed me while you were sitting on the picnic table at that lady's house who has the dog named Georgia (Lori's house)
Front seat: Don't worry. Kid #1 does that to me ALL the time.
and yet a few more minutes later while we are completely lost in downtown Atlanta trying to find the interstate... (mind you, I wasn't driving)
Kids: Let's make up songs!
Kid #1: Grace, make up a song about Mrs. Stephanie!
Grace: in her most country accent "Oh Mrs. Stephanie is sittin' on the couch with her hairy armpits....."
Me: Grace Ansley! That was ONE time and it was winter and that was supposed to be our secret you little stinker!!
Oh the things I deal with everyday! I can only imagine that it's a million times worse when they are your own kids! Apparently the other moms saw all of Grace's crazy antics as a sure sign that she is attached to me. At least that's what they told me! So I guess this is a good thing. =)
And just so you know, I am totally blaming The World of Coke for the hyperness of these kids on the way home. They let you taste 64 different coke products as many times as you want and most of them have caffeine. Yeah.
Enjoy a couple of pics from our day:
Grace: Mrs. Stephanie has a pool and a creek and a pond and rocks and stairs and a playground at her house.
Kid 1: Mrs. Stephanie... I'm coming to stay with you ok?
Kid 2: Me too! Me too! Me too! ME TOOOOOOOOO!
Me: Huh? Sure babes. Come on.
a few minutes later
Grace: Mrs. Stephanie sings in a band.
Kid 1: Really? Sing something Mrs. Stephanie!
Kid 2: Yeah sing something! Sing something! SIIIING SOOOOOOOOOOOOMETHING!
Me: What? Oh yeah - I am in a band.
Grace: Will you sing the bear song? Do it in your absolute best singing voice. I mean, please do it in your best singing voice Mrs. Stephanie.
Me: (praying that the ladies in the front seat are oblivious to what's going on in the back) sings:
Grace: Mrs. Stephanie sings in a band.
Kid 1: Really? Sing something Mrs. Stephanie!
Kid 2: Yeah sing something! Sing something! SIIIING SOOOOOOOOOOOOMETHING!
Me: What? Oh yeah - I am in a band.
Grace: Will you sing the bear song? Do it in your absolute best singing voice. I mean, please do it in your best singing voice Mrs. Stephanie.
Me: (praying that the ladies in the front seat are oblivious to what's going on in the back) sings:
"Bears, bears, they got no cares
Bears don't drink from a cup
Sharp teeth and claws and furry paws
To catch you and eat you up.
No grizzly bears don't wear underwear
Sock nor jammies nor gloves!
No baby bears don't wear diapers
No Pampers, no Huggies, No Luvs!"
Grace: That wasn't it.
Me: That soooo WAS it -- that was the bear song and that was my absolute best voice.Grace: No it wasn't. Use the voice you use when you sing with the man on the cd.
Me: {thinking...thinking...lightbulb! She wants me to sing the harmony part!} so I sing it all again but this time I sing the harmony instead of the melody and Grace is all smiles and then there was endless applause and a standing ovation. Ok not really. But there was applause.
Grace: {looks at Kid #1 all I-told-you-so-ish} I TOLD YOU she could sing.
a few more minutes later when the car is completely quiet...
Grace: Mrs. Stephanie can shoot tears out of her eyes.
Front and back seats: HAHAHAHAHA!
Me: Oh good grief Grace! How do you even KNOW that?
Grace: 'Cause you showed me while you were sitting on the picnic table at that lady's house who has the dog named Georgia (Lori's house)
Front seat: Don't worry. Kid #1 does that to me ALL the time.
and yet a few more minutes later while we are completely lost in downtown Atlanta trying to find the interstate... (mind you, I wasn't driving)
Kids: Let's make up songs!
Kid #1: Grace, make up a song about Mrs. Stephanie!
Grace: in her most country accent "Oh Mrs. Stephanie is sittin' on the couch with her hairy armpits....."
Me: Grace Ansley! That was ONE time and it was winter and that was supposed to be our secret you little stinker!!
Oh the things I deal with everyday! I can only imagine that it's a million times worse when they are your own kids! Apparently the other moms saw all of Grace's crazy antics as a sure sign that she is attached to me. At least that's what they told me! So I guess this is a good thing. =)
And just so you know, I am totally blaming The World of Coke for the hyperness of these kids on the way home. They let you taste 64 different coke products as many times as you want and most of them have caffeine. Yeah.
Enjoy a couple of pics from our day:
This is the lobby of The World of Coke. They have these bottles all over the whole place and they were made and decorated by people in different countries. My favorite is the one with the bright stripes at the top - it's from South Africa and is made entirely of seed beads!
The girls in Grace's class. Kid #1 and #2 are on the right, respectively.=)
The rest of the pictures from the Coke place are on another camera that happens to belong to Grace's parents. I'll have to get those and post them later.
Grace at The Varsity - she ate two whole cheese burgers!
The only picture of the two of us from the whole day.=(
Monday, May 5, 2008
My life
Music is a huge part of my life. In fact, at pretty much any moment of any day (except today, because I am sick and sound like a dying goat in a hail storm) if you just happened to peek in on my life, I am probably singing, or humming, or whistling, or listening, or, or...you get it. I'm so grateful that I get to spend a good bit of my time leading fellow believers in worship, for this is my heart.
At Inside Out 
The Set List for Inside Out - a once a month night of worship in Conyers
Mary, me, and Kristi at Sing Great. Kristi was in from Hawaii (her husband is stationed there) for a few days, and this was the only time I got to see her!
Zach and I for Sing Great @ 8 - a Night of Worship we do in Atlanta
At Inside OutThe Zach and I at Sing Great
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