Hi. I'm Adorable.

But Lawsy, I stink to high heaven. Vampires, be gone! And eat your heart out, my new favorite magazine.

I had every intention of getting a few last things planted this weekend, but that's about as far as I got, as I was otherwise engaged ...

Speaking of the most edible nephew in the history of the world, meet Opie.

But Thinking Makes My Head Hurt

The lovely Law Mommy has bestowed upon me a Thinking Blogger Award. In this case, consider those terms VERY loosely. Anywho, now I am to give awards to five bloggers who make me think - which is not easy, by the way, because I'm kinda lazy like that.

First off, if she hadn't already been recognized, I totally would have chosen Law Mommy. She writes with total candor and good humor about creating and managing her precious family, and I have enjoyed being along for her ride around the world. That said, in no particular, except alphabetical, order, are Five Blogs That Make Me Think:

1. Badger - If you're not already one of her many, many fans, buckle up, dude. She has made me think of many things the past year, including food, wine, books, vodka, kids, boobs, IKEA, and Friday Night Lights. She rocks.
2. Hollow Squirrel - This gal actually MAKES me think, literally, what with all her questions, queries, and quadrants. She also has great work stories, hubby stories, and JoJo stories. And she's hilarious.
3. Karla May - She's the nutcake who got me into this whole blogging mess to begin with, practically dared me even. But I've always been a fan of her writing, and her posts truly do make me think - mostly "How have I known this person nearly 20 years and never known what a freak she is?"
4. Trent - I know, I know. He's never gonna see this. He's busy doctoring up pictures and fawning over Tori Amos and Kylie Minogue. Enough already. But he has entertained me and made me think - mostly "What is it exactly that Nicole Richie does?"
5. Jennifer - This gal's dedication and total commitment to veganism amaze me. Not enough to give up the cheese, of course. But I've learned a lot about food, and she's got great pictures. And I think she may be almost as anal retentive as I am. Almost.

So that's it. That's The List. Check these folks out if you don't already. But just promise you'll come back home to mama when you're done. All three of you.

And let me add a quick shout out to my girl, T - it's your berfday, it's your berfday ... Have a good one! Peace!

Tia Turista Esta En La Casa!

After 22 hours of labor, and one tiny hit of Demerol, my SIL gave birth to my nephew this morning. Bless her heart. I was at the hospital with her yesterday, hoping our little cowpoke would show before I had to pick up Peach from school, but he apparently had other plans until about 4 am this morning. The little stinker.

According to my brother, the labor was "very painful" - really?! - and the baby has a really cute forehead. Hmmm. He tipped the scales at 8.5 lbs and stretched out to 21 inches long. We grow 'em big around here. Peach and Olive are so excited to meet their new "brutha cuzzin," I'm sure we'll be making a trip to see him this week. I canNOT believe my brother is a dad ...

You've Made Your Bed ...

I love making the bed. Not that I jump up every morning just to turn around and make it - I enjoy the sleep too much and usually wait until the last possible second to get up. But I at least "spread" the bed - you know, half-ass it by straightening the pillows and pulling the covers back up to the top, thus making it seem, to the untrained eye, that the bed is actually "made."

I come by this simple pleasure honestly as I'm part of a long line of proud bedmakers. When I'm around my grandmother, she practically DARES me to try and get all the beds made before she does, and we usually end up making some of them together. We could do a Hallmark commercial, it's all so damn adorable. I've learned lots of little secrets to making the perfect bed, and I really think if I was a soldier or a prisoner, I could get a medal or time off my sentence for my awesome hospital corners.

I know (I know!) I'm obsessive, but it still really surprises me how many people have no idea how to make a bed. My mom's cousin recently bought his first house, and he asked her to help him pick out some furniture. They bought some linens, and she actually had to walk him through making the new bed, step-by-increasingly-painful-step. Like, she had to repeatedly explain the difference between the flat sheet and the fitted sheet. And that you put the mattress protector on BEFORE you put the sheets on. He's 55. And educated. Supposedly. But he's living alone for the first time EVER, and he's just now getting around to learning the ins-and-outs of housekeeping. Jeebus, dude.

I was recently helping a girl organize her big ass house - a job that could take me the rest of my natural life, by the by - and as I passed her open and overflowing linen closet for the umpteenth time, I decided I couldn't stand it any longer. Action had to be taken. Once I 86ed the faded and the holey, we were left with two or three sets for each bed. Instead of cramming everything back in there, as seemed to be the current system, I came up with the novel idea of FOLDING each sheet and pillowcase before putting them away. She stood there, mouth agape as I made quick work of it, and here's what followed:

Girl: Ya know, I don't know how you do that.
LT: Well, it's basically corner to corner, over and over.
G: Yeah, I just never learned how you do that.
LT: !
G: And what do you do about king size sheets? My arms are too short to fold those.
LT: !!!
G: And how do you keep them from getting so wrinkled? What kind do you buy?
LT: (WTF?) It helps if you fold them. And with the big sheets, try laying them on the bed or a table to fold them. Like this (enviable) built-in folding table you have here in your (ginormous) laundry room (armslength away from your linen closet). The table you have the (nasty, stanky) bird cage (for a bird that died before you moved in here) and (lifetime supply of off-brand) maxipads on.
G: Is THAT what that is? I always wondered what that was for. I should tell my maid.

Yeah, you get right on that, genius. I'm going to bed.

Shut It.

Your Mouth is a Little Big

You're not a total tell all, but you don't hide who you are either.You've struck a good balance between discretion and sharing.People know you fairly well, at least on a superficial level.But you save your most revealing secrets for your best friend... or no one!

Do You Have a Big Mouth?

The Landlord

What if Will Ferrell was your dad? Or, in this case, your dad's writing partner? Then you might end up like Pearl.

Super Nanny

So, Friday night, I had the immense pleasure of tending to the darling Geej, with Peach and Olive acting as my very capable assistants. Peach and I picked her up from school, and on our way to the house, we made a quick stop for SNOWCONES! Yum! As a true connoisseur, I have to say this new-to-me shaved ice place down the street did a pretty sweet (yuk yuk) job, and the Geej agreed. No one can beat my raspa gal up north, but it's a long way back to the old hood, especially when you're jonesing. And let me just take a moment to sing the praises of The Rainbow Snowcone. Why oh why settle for just one flavor when you can get three different shots of sugary goodness? I get The Rainbow EVERY time, EVERY place. No question. Moving on ...

Once we got to the house, we hit the playroom hard for about an hour, where much tending to the babies and stuffed animals ensued. There was also a quick princess fashion show before everybody hit the tub for a BUBBLE BATH! Yea! Next up, dinner - followed by CANDY! Weee! Then ... TWO episodes of DORA! Arriba! Finally, there was some reading, some music, several trips to the potty, several cups of water, and lots of giggling - and at last, all three of my charges were snoozing peacefully.

Rather pleased with myself when Karla May showed up later to claim the Geej, I was eager to show off my handiwork. At which point, the Geej was nowhere to be found. She was not in bed with Peach. She was not in bed with Olive. And she was definitely not on The Secret Bed on the floor in between them. Upon closer inspection, we saw this:

And then, this:

I'm available most weekends, for little or no cost, I was CPR certified in 7th grade, and I have great references.

The Easter Miracle

As promised, the trip report:

Big Bend is in the Chihuahuan Desert, and maybe it's just me, but when I think "desert," I think, "hot. dry. snakes." But, this weekend, all I could think was, "cold. snow. bears." I've been to Big Bend for Easter before, and it got cool at night. Like, maybe we had some ice on our tent. But, this year? Full-on SNOW. Thankfully, we were staying in the lodge, but still, it's hard to gear up for some hiking when the wind is literally blowing you backwards and chapping the shit out of your face and hands.

When we got there on Friday evening, we knew something was awry when we saw this:

Totally creepy fog, covering everything. Hmmm - that's unusual. Yes, but you know what's even more unusual? This, which we saw on Saturday:

Now, there wasn't like snowdrift, snowbank, snowplow snow - just a pretty heavy dusting, and temps in the mid-20s, so WAY too cold for me and mine to be outside. We spent the better part of Saturday touring around the many little towns and ghostowns in the area, and that night, we finally broke down and rented a TV/DVD combo at the lodge (they don't have them in the rooms) because - Hello! - we were like, practically, SNOWED IN! We watched several episodes of Peach's new "Bewitched" DVD, and I finally realized that Larry Tate was a raging alcoholic. As a kid watching the reruns of the show at my grandmother's house, I obviously didn't get it that he was drunk off his ass most of the time or talking about getting drunk off his ass. That and the rampant chauvinistic comments aside, it's still a cute show, though, and Peach loves it. The Easter Bunny surprised her with the DVD on Friday morning before we left because he's so smart, he knew we were going to be out of town on the Big Day, and he didn't want us to have to schlep our baskets 400+ miles or have to hunt for eggs in the park among the weeds and the mountain lions and the BEARS.

Speaking of, damn, y'all! What's up with the bears? There were bear boxes and bear-proof trashcans every five feet all over the park because, apparently, we, as proud Americans, not only want ourselves and our children to be morbidly obese - we want the bears to be fat asses, too. I'm telling you, don't do it! Ranger Rick will SO kick your ass, and Smokey will probably torch your tent.

Sunday brought clearing skies, warmer temps, and as we headed out for the morning, I spotted this by the side of the road. Behold, The Easter Miracle:

Not surprisingly, Peach and Olive totally freaked out and were absolutely convinced that Peter Cottontail himself must have put it there. Or Jesus. Anyway, I resisted my urge to be a terrible Girl Scout and dig the guy up as a souvenir, and we went on to celebrate the Resurrection of the Son of God over some greasy diner food at the only place open in Alpine. When we returned that afternoon, we were met with sunny skies, just in time to get a few hours of hiking in. Finally.

Peach and Olive were absolute ANGELS the whole time, considering they spent the majority of the weekend in the car or the lodge. As per usual, Olive entertained us with her witty banter, alternately describing the scenery as looking just like Africa, Antarctica, and Australia. And when she spotted a particularly interesting rock formation, she squealed, "That looks like the Great Wall of China!" Three year olds. What are ya gonna do?

Brrr ...

We're back and currently thawing out. I've got lots to tell, but I must tend to the unpacking and the feeding and the watering. I'll leave you with one word: Itfrigginsnowed.

She's Baaaaack!

It's that time again, y'all! Time to scare the bunny poop pellets right out of you! No, really. You're welcome.

Today, we're loading up las ninas and hitting the Bunny Trail for Big Bend this weekend. We have a nice looong drive ahead of us, but we should have some great weather and the Great Outdoors waiting for us when we get there. And a boatload of Easter candy, natch. The last time we were there for Easter, they had a lovely sunrise service on Sunday, and this one chick got up and did the most AWEsome interpretive dance to some holy roller evangelical number, so here's hoping. And hopping!

Hear That?

That's the sound of me NOT putting my children to bed. Not in the usual way, anyway. Olive has finally worn me down, and I've agreed to release her from The Big Bed. This is the third night in a row, and as she officially turned all of 3 and 1/2 today, I guess it's going to stick. Shit.

For quite a while now, she's been talking about (okay, asking about) sleeping in her big girl bed in "Peach's room" (which she finally figured out is her room, too), and she loves to climb up in her big girl bed and "pretend to sleep alone" or read books. And then stupid Target had to put those cowgirl sheets on sale, and then Peach started chiming in (okay, pleading), and I knew I was in trouble. Shit.

Friday night was the first night, and they both ran to their beds, giggling and wiggling all the way. After a couple of Dr. Seuss books for Olive and a couple of chapters of Nancy Drew for Peach, they literally waved me out of the room. Hugs and kisses all around, and I left. Slowly. I thought, NOW what am I supposed to do? They aren't asleep yet. They're just lying there. Alone. Without ME. My BABIES!!! But then - I turned on the monitor, and I heard this:

Peach: And if you need anything, Olive, anything at all, I'm right here. Okay?
Olive: Okay.
(pause)
Olive: I wuv you, Sis.

And that was that.

I might be proud of them if I wasn't so sad about the whole thing. Sleeping in The Big Bed with Olive was the last bit of babyhood I had to cling to, and as hard as it was when Peach moved into her big girl bed, (at about the same age, I might add), I was at least pregnant with Olive and had more nights of little feet in my back to look forward to. That said, purely for my own benefit, I still slept most nights on a mattress on the floor right next to Peach until I was too pregnant to get down there anymore. And then I made T-Bone do it. Well, she was all the way in the NEXT room - what if she needed us?

Now both of my "big girls" are all the way UPstairs on the OTHER side of the friggin' house - think I'm sleeping easy? Well, no. But I'm still hoping that maybe this is just a phase, and maybe Olive will come to her senses and want to come back to The Big Bed. Maybe the cowgirl sheets could get "accidentally" torn or LOST or something. Maybe. Maybe not. Shit.

For now, I think I hear my mattress calling me ...