turkey week in pictures

I thought that another photo post would make catching up on the last week pretty quick. No. It took 20 minutes just to go through the pictures. Oh, well. Here you go...the Ouisers' Thanksgiving week.

S refused to take this bathing suit cover off for days. She thinks it goes with everything.
This time, it was Grandpa who got fancy-posh'd.
Photography by S. Little thief snaked the camera from the counter.
One of our thankful lists on the sidewalk.
Doing the Turkey Dance Thursday morning.
Stretching out her tummy via...bean juice??
Working off the turkey by fishing for leaves.
Don't ask me what happened here.
Decorating T and Grandma's tree.
Bah humbug.
Our tree and our girl.

And a couple of videos for Scarlet Lily...

Daddy, you're welcome for this one...

a sweet weekend

It's just around the corner. It's so close you can almost taste it. You think I'm talking about Thanksgiving, which I am seriously anxious for, but I'm actually talking about the holiday baking season. It's like March Madness in the kitchen. I've been patiently waiting, but all the holiday displays and sewing I've been doing around here have me jonesing for some goodies. However, I'm not ready to bust out all the ingredients and start making the season's first batch of cookies (which is always peanut butter kiss cookies). So, to tide me over until next weekend, or at least until tomorrow, I've made a little concoction with the things I had in the cabinets. I melted a bag of semisweet chocolate chips and stirred in a 1/2 cup of dried cranberries, a 1/2 cup of pecan pieces, and about 1/2 tsp of orange zest. I'll let you know if it turns out...I can't think of a single reason why it wouldn't. And, frankly, it's pretty healthy. For candy.

On the creation front, I have successfully made the first Ouiser snuggie. It is made from tie-dyed fleece and therefore looks like an insane hippie monk should be eating pot brownies on your couch. I can safely say that I believe I have made vast improvements on the Snuggie, and I declare all Snuggies bought from TV inferior to the Ouiser snuggie. Mine has the foot pocket that I promised, so your feet stay safely tucked under the blanket, and mine has a kangaroo pocket. It is perfection. Made out of fleece. I'll be making a High School Musical version and a gray fleece version this weekend. My family is going to love me this Christmas. They just might not appreciate the genius right away. I've managed to whip out a couple more little odds and ends in the past few days, and I'll share pictures later. For now, I'm going to clean all the thread off the desk and off the floor.

Have a great weekend.

OMG

OMG. OMG. OMG. There is no better way to put it. No better way. I must have some of these.

Those of you who know me well know that almost everything I own has 3/4 sleeves. Even most of my sweaters. I don't know why. I don't know if I'm really that fond of my tiny wrists that I like to see them all the friggin' time. Or maybe it's just that I'm short and most full length sleeves end up being pulled up lest I drag them through food. Either way, the bottoms of my arms are always, always cold, and thus, I must have arm warmers. I also must, must know who the brilliant person is who thought to put leg warmers on their arms because I want to hug them and bake them cookies and say, "thank you. I love you. I really, really do."

a little southern

I spent a lot of time in high school at speech tournaments and doing drama stuff. In doing that, I worked diligently on losing "my southern." It started when I realized that most of the people I knew recognized no difference in the words "pin" and "pen." Then I realized that most of the world equated people with deep southern accents as either dimwitted or drunk on mint juleps and bourbon. Because I wanted to do well in the tournaments, show a grasp of basic principles of pronunciation, and be viewed by others as seemingly intelligent, the southern accent was relegated to the back of my brain. It was banished...only to be encountered when I was, in fact, dimwittedly drunk on bourbon or in the presence of my family.

I spent a lot of years proud of the fact that people would tell me they barely heard my southern accent. Then Feathernester basically ruined my life.

The other night, she was recounting how much she loves to tell the story of my aunt calling me out when using my "not southern" voice when we first moved. Apparently, when talking to Feathernester and Mr. Feathernester, I would turn on the anti-southern accent so as to ease them into southern life. My aunt looked at me and asked, "why are you talking like that?" I don't remember this at all, but it stuck with Feathernester and she thought it hysterical. She then told me that, whereas she used to not detect my southern, now it's "all southern, all the time." Like I'm one of those easy listening radio stations. "All Phil Collins, all the time." Darn.

Really, I don't care too much. I still properly pronounce words like "pen" and "library."

However, I have realized that my daughter has really started elongating her words. Especially her vowels. "Babydoll" is "babydaaawwwl." "Light" is "liiiiight." Her friend Carson is "Carseeeen." I could go on and on. I worry that people will think my daughter has been hitting the bourbon hard at an early age. Someone, help us, please.

Happy hump day, peeps. Or "peeeeeeeps," as S would say.

weekend update

Another Ouiser weekend in pictures. I will say that, sadly, we forgot the camera for Saturday morning's trip to the Monkey's Treehouse, which S friggin' loved. It will end up being one of our haunts.

Make-shift doll furniture for Little People #2 girl. Complete living room with sofa, end tables, lamps, and chair. There was also a bedroom and a driveway leading to the front of the "house." MoWask, those doll furniture links may come in handy much sooner than I'd anticipated.
A bed for Bea. S calls her bear "B." At least, that's what I thought. Now I've decided she's named her Bea after my grandma. Most of the time, the animal or doll that's in the bed is tucked in. And they always get a goodnight kiss.
Daddy got fancy-poshed, which is like getting punk'd but without the meanness and with super fancy posh accessories.
Ready for church. Add a peacoat and my sunglasses to this look and you can imagine what we looked like walking down the street. Very fancy posh.
I don't know if any of you other marrieds have this problem, but somehow, M and I always manage to dress alike. Always. We are the incestuous Bobsy twins. Nice.
Birthday gift for Aunt Mel. She loved my choice of wrapping paper. I swear.
Decorations for Aunt Mel's birthday. S and I made them. Please don't judge my mess of a house.

a toddler drum circle

A little peak into what life is like with S and L. Loud. Of course, it's pretty easy to see why my kid is ginormous. She's eating her drumstick. Really, I like to think that she's play-multitasking. Drumming and play cooking at the same time. That's my girl.

dots

My friend Kristie calls her little musings "dots," so today is all about the dots.

Dot.

Green showers. I thought a lot about the shower issue based on Scarlet Lily's post yesterday. I know I've mentioned before that, like her, my showers are not game for greening. I will not speed shower, navy shower, or take a cold shower for the earth. I just won't. And, sadly, I will admit that I am not a person, like Feathernester, who takes quick showers. I linger. I always have. Most of the time, I linger until the water needs to be turned a little warmer. That's my cue to get out of dodge. Sometimes, however, I linger until every last drop of warmth is exhausted from my water heater. I admit it. Judge me if you will. Now, this isn't an every day occurrence, so don't flip your lid completely.

Out of curiosity today, I timed my shower. I've done this before, and I've never been thrilled with the results. Today was a no frills day. No shaving, no special exfoliating, no lingering. Just the basics: wash face, wash and condition hair, wash body. I timed in at six minutes almost on the nose. I didn't rush, but I didn't dawdle. But, seriously. Every couple of days I do shave. There's at least three to four minutes. Plus, I like at least 45 seconds to appreciate the warm water when I first get into the shower. I have a hunch that this shower thing is going to eat at me forever. I will say this. Jennifer Aniston claims to take three minute showers. Three. And she claims that she also brushes her teeth in the three minute shower. I really, truly believe that she has to be lying. Or, she is the dirtiest human being that ever walked the earth. You decide.

Dot.

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat. We're gearing up for the holidays around here. You already know that. You also know that I am crazy type-A, and most of my gift shopping is done. Finished. And now, every gift that we've purchased is wrapped and neatly stacked. I worked on it yesterday. I felt an odd sense of completion. It's the same way I feel when I organize a drawer or clean out the fridge. I feel at peace when things are all organized and done. Aaagh. A big, cleansing breath.

However, I've been thinking a lot about gifts this year. I know that lots of people think about these things, but it's so easy to get caught up in the insanity. I love to buy presents for people. I love knowing that someone will love or appreciate something that I've given them. I love it when I stumble across some random object that immediately reminds me of someone that I love. What I don't love is the sense of obligation to find gifts for people. Especially when so many of us don't need anything. Especially when so many of us should be getting rid of stuff instead of accumulating more. I think, that when you can't find a perfect gift for someone for the holidays, you should be able to say, "I just couldn't find the right gift this year. Maybe next time." Or you should at least get a waiver. You should be able to give a middle-of-the-year gift instead of a Christmas gift because, honestly, who knows when you'll come across that perfect gift. I sound like a total Scrooge, and I swear I'm not. I just hate that people, including me, get caught up in the craziness that is feeling like you have to, have to get gifts for every single person that you know. It's just nutty. Again, judge me if you will. Maybe I am Scrooge McOuiser.

Dot.

The Snuggie. Oh, how I love you, Snuggie. Why couldn't Neiman Marcus have invented you instead of some "As Seen on TV" hack? I know that a blanket with sleeves seems like the epitome of laziness. I get it. I get that it seems quentisentially lazy American that we can't be bothered to take our arms from under our blankets to use our remotes or send text messages or whatever, but come on. When I'm vegging out on the couch catching up on Law and Order reruns, I am trying to be as lazy as I can. I deserve a blanket with sleeves. I've usually earned it by washing my way through obscene amounts of laundry. Now, I'll give you that if you are wearing it around all day, you are too lazy. But for the couch, this thing is genius. I'm going to start making them. I'm going to improve on them, though. I'm going to put a little pouch at the bottom to tuck your feet into. Watch out, friends. The Ouiser Snuggie may be coming your way. You should be so lucky.

End of today's dots. Have a good one, peeps.

one up-ed

MoWask totally one up-ed me. I listed a couple of the random things that S is grateful for (though she doesn't understand the concept of being grateful), and she went off and listed 106 things that she loves. I can't compete with that. Looks like being in California for a week is kind to her. While I'm happy about that, I am having trouble figuring out new things for S today. You see, it's raining, so we haven't been outside, and that's where S is the happiest. That's where she finds things. So, I'm winging it today. We finger painted for the first time yesterday, and I assure you she was grateful for squishy orange paint. She's also thankful for rocks. I let her bring in four rocks that she collected yesterday, and she keeps finding them and declaring, "Mommy, found rock. Ooooh." So, finger paint and rocks. Beat that, MoWask. :)

Also, we went to the gym today for the first time in forever. Getting a president elected is hard work that excuses one from one's dedication to treadmills and big empty rooms where you can do yoga alone. Now, however, I'm back at it because I can tell how much weaker I've gotten and I don't like it. Anywho...

While there, I grabbed a magazine for perusing while on the elliptical machine. I haven't subscribed to Real Simple in years because I felt like the articles kept repeating themselves, and I honestly don't need any advice on how to organize my closets (all shirts in order of the color spectrum), my junk drawers (don't believe in the concept; if it's junk, I don't want it), or beneath my sink (how much crap do you need under there really). But, there were a couple of articles in this one that I had a chance to read and really enjoyed. One was a guide to recycling, which I thought was greatly helpful in that it explained to me why I can't recycle certain things that I've been dropping off for ages. Oops. The other article was on focusing. I find it hysterical that I need to be doing several things right now, but I'm not. I'm blogging. It's a distraction. Looks like I should focus.

Anyway, enjoy your Wednesday. I'm going to clean the bathroom. Focus, Ouiser, focus.

the ouiser tree

Per Feathernester's post, here's my tree.

Also, in preparing for Thanksgiving, I've written down the things S has seemed most thankful for the past two days. Of course, it's written in sidewalk chalk in front of our house next to a big turkey that we drew. According to our sidewalk, you should give thanks for leaves, sticks, chalk, cheerios, outside, music, and friends. I'll try to keep you posted on the things that she's grateful for as the season progresses. I am certain there will be a lot of repeats.

As for me, I'm grateful for warm slippers and gloves and for having Reading Rock books around the corner...and an owner who seems to know exactly what I want to buy. LOL.

perfection on consignment

Okay, seriously. No matter what great thing you think you may have found thrifting or on consignment, you can never, ever beat what I found last week. Behold perfection...


For anyone not in the know, M's life, prior to Geography, revolved solely around tennis. As he pretty consistently works on S's forehand, this shirt speaks volumes. Seriously, you could find a pencil sketch by Renoir, and M would argue that this shirt trumps it as most awesome find.

Also, a little more greatness. I had a chance to work at the Americana Folk Festival a couple of Saturdays ago. You know, spreading the Obama love by selling buttons and whatnot. I took along sidewalk chalk, and here is some of the artwork. The peace dog was drawn by a kid that couldn't have been more than seven. How wicked awesome is that? "Put aside your differences" was done by this girl and her bandmates.

another week in pictures

While life is a little less hectic thanks to the election of Barack Obama, things are still a little crazy around here. Mostly, I've got a couple of months of real housework to do. I'm trying to get it done in pieces, but my body has other plans. My body is telling me to go into recharge mode. We'll see who wins...

Either way, here are a few photos from last weekend. Please note the Crunch Bar in the second picture. It is the one and only piece of candy the kiddo got from trick-or-treating. She held onto it like it was made of solid gold.



Have a great weekend, peeps. I'm off to shower.

yes we did

That's all I have to say for now. It was a long day of poll watching and return watching, but everything was worth this feeling. It was all worth knowing that my daughter will grow up not thinking that there are boundaries to what she or others can achieve. It was worth it to feel proud and consequential.

Yes we can. Yes we did. Yes we will continue.

all dressed up

S had a Halloween party this morning. Really, it was just the make up class for the music class that was canceled a few weeks ago. All the kids dressed up, and that apparently makes kids crazy. Note to all parents and teachers...it's not the sugar in the candy that causes them to go nutso. It's the costumes. All the kids were running around like they were on speed. The teacher gave up about halfway through and just let them have treats. At that point, S was already passing out the stickers and spider rings we'd brought to share.

Anyway, here are a couple of shots. For the record, S did wear her costume, but when she started sweating, I took it off her. It was a smidgen warm in there this morning.


This is S with her friend S. She was a poodle...but she swore she was a lamb. Baa.


S thought this was the best thing ever. She really thought Elmo was there. She kept going up to the poor kid and touching him. It's how I'd react if I was in the room with George Clooney.

morning has broken

Remember that old Cat Stevens tune? Sure you do, and if you're like me, you love a little Cat Stevens every now and then. Peace train? Come on. Admit it. You love it.

Anyway, this morning broke me. As in, I nearly lost it.

S and I took a little jaunt into Nashville this morning. I needed some more dish detergent from Target, and we were hunting for a new POTTY CHAIR. S decided yesterday that she was interested in the potty. Really, I think she was just using it to stall at naptime and bedtime, but I don't know for sure. She also woke up this morning asking to watch her "big kids" video, which is about potty training, so I'm hoping that she's ready. I had been planning for awhile to replace the potty chair that we already had. It had multiple parts that she could take off and use as hats or costumery. (I know that's not a real word.) As that completely grossed me out, and her potty chair looked miserably uncomfortable, I thought another one might be better. Plus, I've read that if you let your child make the decision about their own potty chair, she might be more apt to use it.

Moving on...

First we went to Target. Their potty chair selection was seriously lacking, so we picked up our dish detergent and some Halloween stickers and headed to Toys R US. This is where the morning got out of hand. S wanted to walk. In and of itself, that isn't a huge deal. She's been into walking on her own lately, and I thought I could trap her inside in the little cart vestibule area and get her into a cart. No dice. She's smart enough to understand automatic doors. So, I grabbed a cart and hightailed it inside after her. Then, I realized that I felt woozy. Like, "I may actually fall down, and I feel seriously overheated, and, "S come here right now and put down that baton," and what is wrong with me?" After standing there for a minute, I realized that I had forgotten to eat or drink anything this morning and it was already 10am. That likely had something to do with it. I've never really thought about my blood sugar, but I'm pretty sure I was bottomed out. Halloween candy bags were right there at the door, so I grabbed one. I then ate a peanut butter cup and just stood still for a minute while S oohed and ahhed through the aisle. Okay, I felt well enough to proceed. I convinced S that it was a good idea to follow me so we could look at potty chairs, but she got sidetracked by this. Just shoot me. It took a good five minutes to get her to leave it alone. I finally made her understand that her options were to come with me or be forced into the cart. We made it to the potty chair aisle, which also happens to be the shampoo/bath crayons/lotion aisle. S was interested in two different chairs. One is the same as Kristie's daughter's, and I've read good things about it online. I was hoping for that one, but I was prepared to have to bring home the Elmo potty even though I'd sworn never to buy a potty that does tricks. While she kept looking at the Elmo potty and talking about it, she kept wanting to sit on the Baby Bjorn potty, so we bought that one.

We also had to pick up part of L's 1st birthday gift, and that little errand, which should have taken all of 47 seconds, took almost half an hour because S kept stopping to go all googly eyed over the toys.

She'd had all she could take by the time we got to the checkout lane, where you know they were as slow as molasses. We had to finish our little transaction through many tears and sobs. That was rather tricky as, unbeknownst to me, S had been filling our cart with all manner of crap while I wasn't looking, and I had to keep looking at what the girl was ringing up and saying, "I'm sorry, I didn't pick up that Thomas the Train soap or those nine packs of bathtub markers or that robot book."

My poor overstimulated child was in complete hysterics by the time I was able to wrangle her into the car. She calmed down when I got her some lunch.

Since we've been home, things have been a little calmer, but not much. I've got my fingers crossed that the remainder of my day goes more smoothly, otherwise, I may take to drinking.

Happy Thursday, peeps.

weekend in pictures

Another photo assault from the Ouiser family adventures. Ghouls at Grassmere (the zoo's halloween event). Family lunch for O's birthday, which included apple picking in the backyard and jumping on the trampoline. Afternoon excursions in the park. Please note my child's literal interpretation of what we should do with acorn "caps."











And, FYI, I'm letting Feathernester share pics of L dressed up for Ghouls. Which means, "woman, you'd better post."

how do i get myself into these messes?

I've been sitting at the desk for large stretches of time over the last two days. Sitting at the desk, making phone calls. Phone calls for "Dickson County Friends of Bob Tuke." Let me tell you, that's a mouthful to say on the phone.

"Hi, is this Mrs. Smith? Good morning. My name is Ouiser, and I'm calling with the Dickson County Friends of Bob Tuke. How are you today?"

I then get a chorus of, "you're calling with whom?"

Then I have to explain that he's the democratic candidate running against Lamar Alexander for U.S. Senate. Then I get to further explain that we're hosting a fundraiser next Saturday at the Dickson County Democratic Headquarters from 12-1:30. Do they think they might be available?

"Maybe."

Hallelujah.

"That's great. We will be serving lunch, and the candidate will be there to answer questions, and it should be a great time. It is a fundraiser, so it's a fifty dollar per person donation."

"Well, I can't afford that," or, "I just remembered I have to wash my hair."

It's hard to make phone calls to people during a nasty economic crisis in a small town where no one has a bunch of extra money lying around to donate to what is, honestly, a hopeless cause. Plus, "Dickson County Friends of Bob Tuke" is hard to say, and I'm getting really frustrated.

Besides, I need to devote more energy to the phone bank I'm pulling together for next Tuesday night. And I still have Halloween costumes to finish. If anyone has a time-turner laying around, I'd love to borrow it for a few days.

Hope everyone is having a great Saturday. I'm going to make some more phone calls.

i am super mom and you are, too

I declared myself Super Mom this afternoon. S and I attended the fall kick-off meeting for Relay for Life today at noon. We had picked up a happy meal for her on the way because chicken and fries is usually a surefire way to keep the kiddo still and quiet. Not today, though. Today she wanted to talk to people. And she wanted to eat the strawberry salad that came with my lunch. Fine. Not a problem really. The Super Mom thing came at the very end. S and I won a door prize...a very pretty little floral arrangement that I realized immediately that I didn't want to have to carry to the car with my huge bag and my 35 pound toddler in tow. Someone else won a bunch of purple balloons that S had been making eyes at the entire meeting. Turns out that someone was with a friend of mine, and she brought the balloons to S. I traded her for the floral arrangement because I knew she worked at a bank and lots of people would enjoy it there. Then I realized that I hadn't really traded up in terms of getting to the car. Luckily, S was an angel and walked while holding my hand the entire way through the hospital. She even avoided the catnip that is the elevator buttons. Then we hit the parking lot. The kid has a thing for walking on curbs. You know, one foot on the curb, one on the parking lot. I have a thing for not getting run over.

So, in the gale force wind, my child sat down on the curb and cried because I wouldn't let her play in the parking lot. Then she realized that there were five bright purple balloons swirling around my head and all troubles were forgotten. I somehow managed to get the kid, the bag, the balloons, and myself into the car and home. That's when I decided that I am Super Mom. In fact, all moms are Super Moms because we all have crazy days like this and no one is ever around to really appreciate the absurdity of our situations.

Happy Tuesday, super mom peeps. I'm off to make cookies.

Oh, but here are a couple of pics from this weekend.




And, that's right, Scarlet Lily and B, S is wearing a cardigan. A fancy posh cardigan to go with the fancy posh flower hair bow.

few words

The past eight days have been a blur. I can't even begin to describe it, so I'm going to make up a little game whereby I think of the words most pertinent to the past 192 hours of our lives...and then there will be pictures.

1. OBAMA
2. Boots
3. Mulch
4. Allergies
5. Roses
6. Accident
7. Recruited
8. Corny
9. Pumpkin drink
10. Fancy Posh

that's right, i'm famous

Not really, but almost.

I was this close to actually getting to talk on air. On HARDBALL WITH CHRIS MATTHEWS. Chris Matthews was looking straight at me, walking to me...then the camera hog next to me started spouting off about wanting to vote for a winner. Oh, well. It's really probably for the best. Either way, my mug was on national television. Scarlet Lily was kind enough to take pictures.

Despite my inability to become famous, I had a completely wonderful, though exhausting, time yesterday. Even M agreed that being in such an excited pro-Obama atmosphere is a little intoxicating (my word, not his). I really do wish you all could have been there.

It's so amazing to just meet a total stranger and immediately have something in common. Something to talk about. Something real...not, "man, the Vols are really stinkin' it up this season, huh?" or, "dude, the weather today sucks." Real conversations that make you feel really connected to other human beings that you'll likely never see again. Jessica the Occupational Therapy student, Tyler from Vanderbilt, Amanda the English teacher, Lane the Interior Designer, Taurus the coffee lover, Darla the autograph seeker...it was great to meet them all. It was also great to be in an atmosphere of cooperation. An atmosphere where, for the most part, everyone realized that we are working toward the same goal. There were the random islands of McCain support, but they were few and far between to say the least. Then there were the protesters that had to be led away by the police as Chris Matthews nearly lost it with them and their bullhorn. When Chris Matthews finds it difficult to talk over someone, you know it's bad.

Alas, the glitz and glamour for the Nashville political scene is over, and it's time to get to work. I did talk to one of the Victory '08 Tennessee bigwigs, and they are starting to ask people to really hit the battleground states hard. Tennessee is within fairly easy driving distance of Indiana, Missouri, North Carolina, and Ohio. They're asking people to make weekend trips to those states to knock on doors if they can. I'm trying to convince M that it would be worth it to make a trip...also, I do have an aunt in Florida who is trying to find a buddy to knock on doors with. I'm going to try. I make no promises about actually traveling, but I hereby declare that I am going to get on the phone and start making calls to battleground states. I hope that you will, too. Obama's website makes it so easy. They are also really encouraging people to help get out the vote. If you know anyone who needs help getting to the polls to vote, please don't miss your opportunity.

Also, in all sincerity, just being nice and smiling at people while you're sporting Obama gear can go a long way. I walked past an assisted living facility yesterday morning as I was decked out in my Obama shirt, and I stopped for two minutes to talk to the residents that were out front rocking and watching the passersby. Just smiling and talking to them was great, and it leaves them with positive thoughts about Obama and his supporters. Remember that there are a lot of people who haven't made up their minds about this election, and positive thoughts are, well, positive. Honestly, for some people who are undecided, the issues may not be what decides this thing for them. Their experiences with people from the campaigns can be important...so, smile, people.

I've got to get some things done. I promise more pictures later, until then, have a great day, peeps.

the early show

At 4am, I flipped on the computer to make sure I knew exactly where to meet for my 530 am "I Love Obama" shift in Nashville. I had managed to peel myself out of bed at 315, so by 4, I was showered and dressed and ready to leisurely gather myself and get on the road. Then I opened my email.

The CBS Early Show was broadcasting, and they wanted us early risers to get there at 5 instead of 530. Crapola. I grabbed my coffee. I grabbed my keys. I attempted to kiss my sleeping husband goodbye. I ran out the door.

I was actually one of the first people there, which I considered a monumental accomplishment as I live 45 minutes away. I ended up sitting in a chair in Belmont Mansion for just under three hours. I'm pretty sure I never actually made it on TV, but boatloads of the signs I made the other night did. In fact, I was able to give my sign to a tall girl a couple of seats over, and she was able to block a McCain sign with it. Mind you, the Obama to McCain sign ratio was about 10:1, and all the McCain signs were more like, "We woke up early to be on TV," than they were about McCain. It was a good showing for Obama. By the time I left Belmont's campus, there wasn't a McCain supporter in sight.

I'm home now for a few minutes before I head to a doctor's appointment...then it's back to Nashvegas. I wish you all could be there. It is so much fun.

it's almost here

The VEEP debate. It starts in six and a half hours. Make sure you tune in.

Speaking of things that happen soon...the deadline for voter registration around the country is looming. I doubt that anyone reading this is still unregistered or planning to sit this election out, but just in case, I wanted to remind you. Or, if you know anyone, and I mean anyone, who isn't registered yet, get them registered. It's not difficult. Google it.

the audacity

I finally picked up a copy of The Audacity of Hope yesterday. I almost bought it when we were in Florida, but I felt like I was cheating on Reading Rock. I couldn't do it.

I've read the first 90 pages or so, and I can confidently say this: reading Barack Obama's words on paper are doing nothing to quell my love for the man. Nothing. In fact, it makes it all the more tangible as there is now a tactile aspect to the whole thing. I can see the words. I can reach out and feel the pages, and, frankly, I'm a visual person.

Obama has taken a lot of flack for being full of high ideals and, according to opponents, lacking in actual substantive ideas. Hogwash. He does have actual ideas. I, however (and once again), am here to say that I believe in the power of high ideals. I know I'm naive in my idealism. I always have been. I've always wanted to believe that things can be fixed. Things can be made better. Life can be fair and equal for everyone. A child born in Compton can achieve the same things in life as a child born in Greenwich. I believe that. I have to believe it. If it's not possible, what is everyone working for?

I believe that everyone can have real, decent, affordable healthcare. We're supposedly the greatest nation in the world. I don't buy that if we can't get our citizens to the doctor.

I believe that we can protect the planet while still having a functioning economy.

I believe so much that it makes it hard to accept the reality that we're currently facing.

S is screaming for more eggs. Short order cook/mom to the rescue. Have a great hump day, peeps.

accidents waiting to happen

S has had a rough 24 hours. It seems as though the universe has been hanging onto all manner of injuries for her to stumble across.

Last night, we took her upstairs for her bath, and we nearly sliced her toe off. It's crazy dark up there, and we didn't turn on the light, and when we opened the bathroom door, her left big toe got caught under the door. There was blood. There was crying. She got over it quickly, though, because she either didn't see the blood or didn't know that blood should inspire immediate hysterics. Either way, playing in the bath water was more interesting than belly aching over her nearly severed toe. Crisis averted, more or less. She's got a yucky looking toe, though.

This morning, at the gym, she got her first toddler injury. By that, I mean she was maliciously wounded by another toddler. It was actually my friend L's son who did it. He's apparently a rampant biter. He doesn't talk, so I'm guessing that he's into biting since he really can't "use his words." Or maybe he's jumped on the Twilight bandwagon. Either way, it's a done deal. Her fingers look like they should hurt, but she seems totally fine.

Then we went over to our favorite little bookstore around the corner, and S was playing on the upholstered benches that she loves so much, and she fell off. She managed to twist mid-air, which was a remarkable feat as the benches sit about 15 inches off the ground, and she whacked her head on the side of a bookshelf. She sort of caught herself with her hands first, so there are no gaping head injuries. Just scared mostly.

Either way, I'm thinking I'll need her to take it easy this afternoon as it just doesn't seem to be her day.

I hope everyone else is faring better than my daughter today.

holy fancy nancy, batman

For those of you without kids...or without girls...or without an obsession with popular children's books...or without substantial knowledge of my child's favorite things, this will mean nothing. Nada. Zilch.

S is crazy obsessed with Fancy Nancy. The Fancy Nancy phenomenon began with one book: Fancy Nancy. Then came Fancy Nancy and the Posh Puppy. We were introduced to both simultaneously as we received them as a gift when S was born. For the past few months, she's been pretty adamant about having them read to her before every nap and before bedtime every night. She loves "Fancy" and "Fancy Puppy." Then M made the discovery that a third Fancy Nancy book was out: Fancy Nancy: Bonjour, Butterfly. He surprised her with it one day, and the kid's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. It was the real-life equivalent of the red bow on a Lexus Christmas commercials. So, we now read Fancy, Fancy Puppy, and Fancy Flies several times a day. Several. As in, all the friggin' time. It's great. She loves it.

There are other Fancy Nancy books out there now, but they're "new reader" books, and not really exciting for her, but I've already picked one up for her Christmas stocking. There are LeapFrog versions of Nancy books now, too. Apparently, Fancy Nancy is pulling in some fancy stacks of cash for her publisher.

Anyway...M and I were killing time in Target Saturday afternoon, agonizing over the fact that I have no idea what she will get for Christmas (man, this is one Christmas-y post, huh?), when we stumbled across this:

We bought it immediately. I can't wait to see her reaction to it on Christmas morning. I mean, she nearly plotzed over the book, so I can't imagine what will happen with the doll. Oh, I'm so excited.

a good week

I'm not going to lie. Our vacation was great, but I didn't feel great through most of it. I was, for some unknown reason, crazy anxious. The anxiety seemed to get worse as the week wore on, and by the time Thursday rolled around, I think that both M and my aunt Mel wanted to strangle me or tie me to a chair lest I obsess over one more thing. It was a pretty strange feeling, and it took a couple of days of being home to get back to normal. But, now that we're home, and my little routine is restored, I feel great.

And, this week with S has been one of the best weeks ever. She's been so completely hysterical and talkative and "dancy." I know that dancy isn't a word, but the kid's been rockin' all week. She just wants to dance and dance. She looks a little like Napoleon Dynamite, though. It's not always pretty, but it's always fun to watch. Her new wiggle move is especially great because, while she doesn't realize it, it's a spot-on Bill Cosby impression. So, last week was not great, and this week, despite all the political drama (the unseemly hullabaloo, if you will), was pretty fantastic.

In keeping with the feel-better routine, I bought myself a little hand-painted plaque that says "Take time to smell the flowers." It's in the kitchen over the sink. I think it's a pretty great little motto. So...smell the flowers...enjoy tonight's debate. I'll be enjoying it from party headquarters down the street with Feathernester. Game on!

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY
Sight: arrangement of basil and zinnias on the kitchen counter. Totally local...like, backyard local. S in jeans. Friggin' adorable, but she can't get onto the couch or chairs since she can't lift her leg in denim. M's moustache. Yeah, that one will never be forgotten.

Sound: S saying "good night" last night...or singing the goodbye song throughout the grocery store this morning.

Smell: basil. it'll only last so much longer. Also, Feathernester cooking with garlic earlier today.

Touch: S kisses, it's a perennial fave, and cuddling on the couch while watching The Office.

Taste: Dark Chocolate Espresso cookies, Iced Monkey Mocha from House Blend.

sitting on my tongue, biting my hands.

Here's a little recap of my day...I actually wrote this all out on actual paper with an actual pen so I could give an accurate representation of how things went down.

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Today I headed to my high school...on a hill in Dickson County... to register voters. I'm guessing most of the 18-year-olds registered last week, but here I am anyway. I'm sitting next to the Navy recruiter's table.

There is a kid at the table who's, I think, supposed to be helping recruitment efforts, but he's really just playing with a super bouncy ball and talking to his friends. He graduated last year. He's shipping out for basic next week. In Chicago. I doubt he's actually "shipping" anywhere. I wonder if he'll actually even be flown to Chicago or if they'll bus him. Anyway.

While I am absolutely required to remain mum on my love for all things Barack Obama, I'm forced to listen to the Navy newbie in his hemp necklace and white (gasp! After Labor Day!) flip flops tell everyone that they should vote for John McCain. No reason given. One of his friends keeps saying to people that Obama is just going to get shot if he's elected. I think my head might explode.

Oh. He just said to someone that he loves Sarah Palin. I really want to ask him if he's 100% comfortable with Sarah Palin being the puppetmaster of his life. A life in the military.

I have managed not to say anything.

I've adopted a new philosophy whereby I keep my cakehole shut while I "sleep on it." I really am curious to know how experienced military personnel feel about Sarah Palin, though. I can understand them backing McCain. He's one of them. But Sarah Palin as potential commander in chief?

Now I'm noticing that high school kids can be mean little brats. If I hear "you retard" one more time...

Some boys just made fun of "the Amish chick." She's clearly not Amish, though I'll wager she's a Pentecostal.

I just heard a rousing chorus of,"Don't vote for Obama. He's a terrorist." I want to smack those kids' parents as I hold them responsible.

So, so much drama. Two kids were just screaming in the hall over, "you totally ditched her." "I didn't ditch anyone." Blah. Blah. Remember when high school drama seemed real? Like, what will I wear to prom? drama. None of this economy stuff we have to deal with as adults.

Now there is a group of six guys at the Navy table, and they clearly have no interest in actually joining the Navy. I personally think that they have a vested interest in being morons. They keep picking up brochures and yelling, "I want to be a submariner," or,"No, man, let's be divers." I wish the recruiter would lay into them before I have to.

I'm starting to think that I may not make it out of this lunch period alive. I'm going to have an electrical outburst like Elle on Heroes.

Okay, there is a boy scout standing in front of my table singing. He's a little awkward in a 15-year-old way. He's carrying a Bible, and most people know that's like a big blinking sign directing people to make fun of you in high school. He's singing to a girl who is very pretty. She looks very cool in the popular/just outside the norm sort of way. The song he's singing is something about being born with a birth defect, but I can't tell if it's about him or not. The girl is being very sweet and attentive, but you can tell she feels strange about the whole situation as people are walking by and pointing and giggling. Okay, two of her friends just came up and blatantly made fun of her and the boy. She quipped back, "you're just jealous because you could never write a song like E can." Bless her heart, she tried. She has almost restored my faith in teenage humanity.

Oh, there it went. The Navy kid is flapping his gums again while he bounces that damn ball.

Now I'm sitting through the final lunch rotation. Keep breathing...

I'm almost there. A group of girls just brought a friend by, encouraging her to register. She did, happily. Then all of her friends echoed one sentiment, "just make sure you vote for Obama." It was hard to hide the smile, but I did because for two hours today I was nonpartisan.

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Now that being nonpartisan is over, I feel the need to paint "OBAMA '08" all over my body and run naked through a football stadium. I'll sleep on it.

pool ball

The funniest thing that happened on vacation was my discovery of my husband's complete and utter lack of understanding of the function of the large inflatable spheres made for playing with on the beach. "What the," you ask. That's right. He doesn't know what to do with a beach ball. My aunt M and I picked one up for S to have at the beach. After all, the only things we'd brought to entertain the child at the beach were a bucket, a shovel, and two drinking cups. While that might do it for some kids, we weren't sure about S, but we know the kid loves to play ball. So one dollar poorer, we headed to our house with a beach ball for the kiddo. We blew it up, and she had loads of fun kicking it around the house...and her daddy had tons of fun throwing it at her head in an attempt to turn her into a soccer player with no fear of heading the ball. I digress...

On Monday, as we got ready to head to the beach, I grabbed the ball. M asked what I was doing, so I explained that I was planning to take the ball to the beach for S to play with. He then informed me that beach balls weren't for the beach because the wind blows them around too much.

"Beach balls are pool toys," he proclaimed.

My response?

"They aren't called pool balls."

I have gotten minutes and minutes of pleasure laughing over this. Mr. MoWask, you awarded this man, my husband, a Masters degree. He thinks beach balls are for the pool. Oh, I love it.

In practicality, he wasn't wrong. We took the ball to the beach one day and we had to bury the silly thing because it kept blowing away. So, while he was right, it's still funny.

Anyway, I decided to post a few more pictures from vacation, but I chose the most random ones. Enjoy.





That last one is simply to demonstrate that we did dress the child in actual clothes once on our trip. To the best of my recollection, it was the only time she was dressed in five days.

goin' down to south park

I'm not unvacationed enough to write a proper post, so instead, I'll leave you with this. I didn't watch the Emmys, but I saw this a few minutes ago. I'm not sure what I find more hysterical...Josh Groban singing the South Park theme song...or Josh Groban in the infamous Jimmy Kimmel video. Either way, I'm pretty sure Josh Groban is way cooler than I expected him to be when we saw him perform several years ago.

Kudos to you, Josh Groban.

as promised...

...some pictures of our little family vacay. I don't have much to say as I've been banned from all things political while on vacation. Sort of. M isn't allowed to watch football according to my aunt, so I'm not allowed to watch any Keith Olbermann, Rachel Maddow, or Anderson Cooper. I feel a little lost. If Sarah Palin has made any ridiculous claims regarding dinosaurs, someone will need to call me.

greetings from the sunshine state

Did I mention that the Ouisers were going to Florida? In all the hullaballoo that was my ranting this past week, I think I forgot to mention it. Either way, the Ouisers are in Florida. We decided to head south to volunteer for the Obama campaign. It's a battleground state you know.

Did you believe that? We're actually just on vacation, but I will gladly keep my Obama button on display. I'm a little peeved that my car magnet didn't arrive in time for the drive. I guess there's a pretty high demand for Obama/Biden merchandise.

We left this morning at 2am. We thought S would fall straight back to sleep when we put her in the car. No dice. She woke up as we strapped her into her seat, and she decided that something exciting must be happening...a Ouiser adventure, if you will. She stayed awake, singing and dancing to the Mary Poppins soundtrack for two whole hours. Then she slept for a couple of hours. She was awake for the last four hours, but she was a trooper. We borrowed a DVD player from my sisters, and that kept her pretty well occupied once the novelty of all of her books was exhausted.

Now we're here, safely in our adorbale little cottage. I'll post pictures later. We'll be taking the munchkin to the beach for the first time in about an hour. We decided to let it cool off a little before we head out. I'm not sure what I'm more excited about...seeing her reaction to the beach or seeing her round tummy and her swim diaper hanging out of her string bikini. I'm counting the minutes, peeps.

Until next time...

panic at the disco

Does anyone else feel desperate? Down in the pit of your stomach? Everyone keeps saying that democrats are panicking. Maybe we are, and maybe we’re not. But continually telling me that I’m panicking is making me panic.

I am desperate for Barack Obama to win. I can barely stomach the thought of four more years of the crap we’ve been subjected to for the last eight. I am desperate. I want to call Barack Obama and ask, “What can I do?” Seriously. What can I do?

I live in the south. In a community that falls somewhere between rural and suburban. In a state that didn’t even stick behind Al Gore, one of our own. Tennessee is not expected to go Obama. And by “not expected,” I mean that I think Obama would fall over dead from the shock if he somehow carried Tennessee.

It is so exceedingly frustrating to know that I can call people in my state and knock on their doors, and it’s not really going to make a difference because “one man, one vote” isn’t really true. We saw it in 2000. My sense of personal hopelessness is the reverse of what my friend J is feeling in Boston. Her state’s electoral votes are already going Obama, so she, too, feels that any actions she might take are moot points. I could convince someone in the grocery store checkout line to vote for Obama instead of McCain, but it really won’t change the outcome. Will it?

I, along with a substantial portion of the educated people in this country, have long known or suspected that the Electoral College is a broken system. Meant to make elections fairer? What? Really? Honestly, if every person in America voted, and each vote meant exactly the same as the next, that would be fair. One man, one vote indeed. Who can argue with that?

As it stands, however, people, like me, end up frustrated. Very, very frustrated. It’s all very “what’s the point?” And that attitude isn’t helping anyone. So, for now, I’ll continue to try to figure out how to contact Barack Obama to see what I can do. Maybe there will be a 1-800 number on the screen during the forum. 1-800-SAVE-USA? That seems about right.

i'm distracted by the catch-22

Really, it's two separate things. I am distracted, and it's a Catch-22.

First, the distraction. The great distraction. The great political ploy. When you have nothing to say, don't, just make sure the nation doesn't notice by giving them something else to focus on. The distraction? Sarah Palin. I stand firmly by the assertion that she shouldn't be an issue because she shouldn't be involved. But her addition to the ticket is proving to be a brilliant political move. While we're all busy arguing about her, we're not focusing on getting our guy elected. The only guy who has seemed to stay focused is Barack Obama. He keeps saying, and rightfully so, that when the dust settles around Sarah Palin, the choice will be clear. Change vs. More of the Same. It's true. I pray that it works. I pray that he's not overestimating the American public. I pray that the electorate will start to focus on the issues and not the people involved.

There's the catch-22, though. If Obama starts to deviate from his message, he's falling into their game, and I'm not sure Karl Rove's game is a game you can win if it's not in your nature to be nasty and calculating. If he doesn't jump into that game, though, he risks being seen as a softie who can't handle a fight. Obama is rumored to be letting the reins loose on the liberal 527s. I've got very mixed feelings about this. If he doesn't fight back, he'll get swift-boated. If he does, he's playing the same old political game. It's a fine line. Very fine. In my perfect idealist world, he can keep walking on the high road and the American people will see through the distraction of Sarah Palin and they will realize that John McCain isn't bringing anything new to the table, and Barack Obama will win. My perfect visions are rarely reality, though, and I fear that.

I'm trying desperately not to be distracted by Sarah Palin. I'm actually worried about the environment and education and healthcare and the economy. I hope that in tonight's "candidate's forum", those things will be discussed. I want to look past this inconsequential noise and hear what both candidates are actually saying. I want the rest of America to do the same.

Also, here's a link to a graphic from Anderson Cooper last night. See if it makes you as sick as it makes me. Um, why do the people with the most money deserve to keep more of it than the people with less? Don't the people with less money actually need their money to pay for things like food and medical treatment? Maybe I'm wrong.

And lastly for the day, I felt compelled to share this video. Thanks, Scarlet Lily.


I'm out, peeps. Don't miss the forum tonight. It'll be on CNN at 8/7C.

i'm a junkie

My husband doesn't know this, but I'm officially falling back into old habits. I think he suspects something, though. He was forced to watch Monday Night Football in the bedroom, so I could watch Rachel Maddow and Keith Olbermann in the living room. Somebody sign me up for rehab. I'm a political junkie.

I can safely say that the more I hear about Sarah Palin, the more she scares the hell out of me. Everything that comes out of her mouth is untrue to some degree. Most are just horribly misleading. Not lies, really, just omissions of facts. Of course, she's doing herself no favors. She's continually repeating the falsehoods that the media is ripping her for, and she's not giving them anything new to focus on. Luckily, she'll be interviewed this week, so maybe we'll learn something consequential about her. Maybe. Probably not. I imagine an interview with her in her kitchen making that damn moose stew they keep going on and on about.

Trouble is...she keeps plugging away, getting people all fired up. And that's the really scary part. The fact that no one knows much about her, but her feistiness (a word I am growing to hate) has all kinds of people excited. I keep hearing people say that they're thinking of voting for McCain now because they like Palin's feistiness. Feistiness is usually endearing for a few weeks, but if it keeps up, people will just start to think she's bitchy. That's how it goes. No one really likes to see a woman constantly stirring the pot. I just hope that clarity hits before she and her family hit the White House.

Honestly, I feel kind of bad for her. She's going to get dragged through the mud badly, because she will get painted as a total B even if she isn't. It happens to all female politicians, and it sucks. The problem for her is that she really, truly is underqualified for this job, so she and her family are going to be unnecessarily subjected to a trip through hell. Of course, she could have declined to run, but whatever.

Okay, S is waking up, so I'm out. Have a great day, peeps. A great day filled with happy thoughts of Barack and Joe...

politickin'

I decided I needed to go all out on the blog showing my support for the man. It's the equivalent of having "I heart Barack Obama" tattooed on my forehead in real life. Since that's clearly not an option, I'm going with blog support.

Please tell me that someone else out there suffered through the insanity that was Sarah Palin's speech last night. I don't even have anything to say about it because she didn't say anything of any consequence. At all. Not even close. The first fifteen minutes sounded like a pitch to elect her and her eskimo fisherman hubby prom queen and king. The rest of the speech was just ridiculous insult after ridiculous insult being hurled at Michelle and Barack Obama. It doesn't even merit a rebuttal because it was all so asinine. But, please, please tell me that someone else was watching the speech on NBC and saw Piper Palin (because that's the child's real name) spit shining her little brother's head. It was really one of the highlights of the night for me.

That...and the realization that I'm pretty sure Sarah Palin has a promising future as a Lenscrafters model when the McCain campaign tanks. I know, I know. That was tacky and irrelevant. She's really quite pretty. Then again, so is Blake Lively. She's not qualified to be VP either.

I'm out. I have to shower. I spent all my blog time choosing colors for the new layout. Happy Thursday, peeps. Here's a picture of S eating an apple in my aunt Mel's backyard on Monday.

is it bedtime yet?

This has been a day. You know what I mean.

S woke up this morning with a slightly leaky diaper. In and of itself, not an issue. It wasn't a blowout diaper leak, just a damp spot underneath her. A change of sheets was in order. I'd get around to it.

We had Kindermusik this morning, and S was excited to go, and she was so, so shockingly good. She sat in my lap in the circle. She sang along. She danced. She put the instruments away when asked. It was beautiful. I was so proud. That was the first thirty minutes. Then she noticed the giant sound system with the red blinking lights and the buttons. When she first approached it, I told her no, and she walked away and kept dancing along. I was dumbfounded as she never just walks away. I should've known it wouldn't last. A few minutes later, as we reformed our little circle to sing the shake, shake song (which was the only song she participated in last week), she made a beeline for the system again. This time there was some pushing and some huffing and some whining. I picked her up and carried her back to the group. She looked at me, turned around, and headed back to the sound system. I knelt in front of it and tried to talk to her and explain what was going on in very calm whispers, which works with her about 60% of the time. No dice. She tried to bite my face. She backed off, though, so I let it slide. One more attempt at the circle led to one more attempt to sabotage the stereo. This time I just stood in front of it and kept saying, "no." She was so mad that she was turning red, and then she bit my leg. As she screamed and kicked, I said goodbye to everyone else in the room (class was over at this point, and parents were gathering up shoes and bags and whatnot) and we left. Once we left the room, she was fine. Tears dried up. Sobs ceased. She said bye to her friend C from class in the parking lot. What the heck?? In reality, I know what happened. One: she is a toddler who lacks the vocabulary to express her anger and frustration, so she bit me. I get that. I know how it works. Two: I'm guessing that she was overly excited from class this time, and she just couldn't hold herself together. At least that's my guess. I'm no baby Dr. Phil, though. Any advice on how you other mamas of toddlers (or kids who used to be toddlers) have dealt with this would be very, very much appreciated.

Okay, so then we got home. She was totally calm and acting like herself. I worked on laundry and dishes. She pulled all of our dirty shoes from the mudroom into a pile and played with them. Perfectly safe activity. Then, as I walked into the bathroom to grab towels for the wash, I heard a weird smashing plastic sound from the mudroom. S had pulled the new bottle of detergent off the shelf, and the cap had busted. She was trying to put it back onto the shelf, which is over her head, but she couldn't quite reach, and...you guessed it...All Free and Clear was pouring all over her head. It was actually comical. She was trying to clean up her mess (or hide the evidence), but detergent in the eyes was not a problem I wanted to deal with, so we headed straight to the bathtub. While some detergent did make it to her eyeballs, it wasn't enough to worry about and by the end of her bath, the redness wasn't really noticeable. Just the same, being upstairs reminded me that...

...her sheets needed to be changed. No big deal at all. Except I smashed the very end of my fingertip into the crib rails trying to get the mattress back into the crib. It was one of those finger smashes that makes you sick at your stomach. Know what I mean?

Since then, the day has gone along swimmingly. But it's only 1:30, so I fear what will happen after she wakes up from her nap. At least her head and her eyeballs are clean. Silver linings...