Archives for May 2008

Number Eleven

Happy Anniversary, Mr. BooDaddy.

Here are eleven reasons why I’m proud to be your wife.

(I KNOW!)

(A LIST!)

(SHOCKING.)

1. You always do what you say you’re going to do. And because of that, you don’t make empty promises.

2. You make your family a priority. Every single day. Even when you’re swamped with work, you make time to sit down and see what’s going on with the little man and me, and you never make us feel like there’s something else you need to be doing. You’re a phenomenal daddy.

3. Whenever Alex and I walk in the door, you are always visibly happy to see us. Always.

4. You’re a morning person. And as a result of your cheerful morning example, we have a little boy who says “GOOD MORNING!” as soon as his feet hit the floor in the AM. Which is so much more pleasant than if he were to grumble for the first hour that he’s awake. Like, you know, I do.

5. You handle our money stuff. You keep me in the loop, and I always know what’s going on, but you take care of all the day-to-day responsibilities. And I am so grateful for that. Plus, you understand numbers, which is oh-so-helpful for the math-challenged likes of me.

6. You have incredible discernment. Whereas I tend to jump in just about any situation feet first and figure that everything will work out in the end, you hang back, survey the lay of the land, and see all the things that I don’t. You keep us on an even keel.

7. You’re not afraid to ask tough questions.

8. You’re not afraid to give honest answers.

9. And you’re not afraid to admit when you’re wrong.

10. You have stretched waaaay outside your comfort zone in the last year. And it’s been totally inspiring to see how God has worked in and through you. I get all teary-eyed when I think about it, because He’s done some mighty big things.

BIG!

HUGE!

11. You know every single bit of my junk – the procrastinating, the bad moods, the mistakes of my 20s, the horrific singing, the fears of my 30s, the freakish love of fried chicken, the impatience, the quirks, the stuff that keeps me awake at night, the annoying tendency to let laundry overtake random surfaces in our house – and you love me anyway.

Happy Number Eleven. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s always been worth the fight. It still is.

I love you.

The Cousins

Today Alex and I went to a neighbor’s pool with my cousin Paige, her hubby, their little boy, my cousin B. and his two girls. Paige, B. and I grew up together, so we have spent MANY an afternoon in the water over the last thirty-something years. I guess that’s why watching our kids together this afternoon was one of those odd, full-circle, gosh-I’m-getting-older-but-I-don’t-mind-it-so-much-because-this-is-pretty-cool moments that makes me want to sing some sort of Michael W. Smith song about cousins, cannonballs, and pools.

Assuming that he’s ever written a song that covered those particular topics.

Which, now that I think about it, is highly unlikely.

But if he had written a song that covered those particular topics, I would have TOTALLY been singing it today.

Because honestly, the kids were so much fun that it made me a little teary-eyed. Paige’s little boy is about 18 months old now, and one of the best parts of the afternoon – at least for me – was watching Paige and her husband watch him. He is absolutely adorable, and they are smitten. Every child should be so loved.

Since I am a wee bit fair-skinned, we didn’t hit the pool until the sun was low enough in the sky that being poolside DIDN’T REQUIRE ME TO WEAR A PROTECTIVE SLEEVE, and the little man and I had an absolute blast. We stayed in the water for over two hours, and we probably would have stayed until dark if supper hadn’t beckoned.

But supper was fried chicken. And nothing beckons me like fried chicken. I believe this fact has been well-established, and it should not surprise you.

So when we were sufficiently waterlogged, we walked over to my aunt’s house and ate supper in her backyard. I am typically not a person who enjoys eating in the out of doors because, well, BUGS, but tonight was perfect. There was the aforementioned fried chicken, and in true Southern fashion, we had two different kinds of potatoes (French fries and potato salad), plus onion rings, rice and biscuits.

Because here is something I want you to always remember and never, ever forget: if one starch is good, then five starches are, well, PERFECTION. The only thing that would have made those side dishes any better is if there had been a batch of hush puppies thrown in. And maybe some fried okra.

And maybe some fried dill pickles, too, but I’ll stop now because if I keep going I’ll find myself setting up a FryDaddy in Mama’s kitchen at 2 in the morning and she’ll wake up and be all, “What in the sam hill are you doing?” and I’ll be all, “SEEING WHAT I CAN DEEP FRY,” and she’ll be all, “Oh, well, wake me up again if you fix somethin’ good.”

After supper all the children ran around in the backyard, weaving in and around my aunt’s daylily beds while the rest of us visited. We talked about everything and nothing, and we laughed until we wheezed when B. told an old story about riding horses with my brother. I wished that the rest of our family was there – especially Sister, who remembers all the funny stories the rest of us forget – but we did the best we could without them. And once the sun set, we put down the sweet tea, rounded up the tired young’uns and headed back home.

Alex is sound asleep now, with a Lightning McQueen car clutched in his right hand and a stuffed green frog by his side. And I know it’s sentimental, but I really can’t help but hope that, in about thirty years, he’ll find himself right where I was tonight: sitting with cousins, eating fried chicken, and watching the next generation of our family play with leaves and brooms and umbrellas under a clear Southern sky.

Because life just doesn’t get much better – or sweeter – than that.

This much I know for sure.

The end.

Feed Ish-Ahs

Most of you who subscribe to my blog through Bloglines are subscribed through a feed that seems to have stopped working.

Which is why you may be seeing a bright red exclamation point next to “BooMama” in your list-o-blogs.

So.

I have absolutely no idea how this stuff works, but just know that all my feeds are running through Feedburner now, and if you are tired of seeing the bright red exclamation point, then you can subscribe to the new feed either in Bloglines or Google Reader or whatever RSS reader you use.

And here’s the new feed: http://feeds.feedburner.com/Boomama. It is sure to be very sassy.

If you’re not seeing the bright red exclamation point and everything has been updating as usual, then you’re golden. No need to change a thing.

And now I need to go take some Advil. Because the tech talk is right up there with math as far as I’m concerned.

Oh, I type the techy words and think they might have a shot of being at least somewhat accurate usage-wise, but in my head all I hear is “blah blah blahdety blah blah.”

Feed / reader / RSS / aggregation / blah blah blahdety blah blah.

The interweb is awesome.

She Speaks 2008

If you’re going to She Speaks this year, head on over to Lysa’s blog – she has some info that you’ll find oh-so-helpful.

And also, I just got out of bed, and it’s 10:15 in the morning.

That has absolutely nothing to do with She Speaks, of course, but still. I’m somewhat fascinated by the fact that I slept so late. I got in the bed to read around 9:30 last night, and the next thing I knew, Alex was patting me on the back and telling me that it was okay to wake up because he and my daddy had been to McDonald’s.

It was the crack of ten, thankyouverymuch.

And so here I sit. In my pajamas. In my parents’ den. With my hair in a clip. And it’s almost lunchtime.

Why, I practically feel sixteen again.

Maybe I need to find an old Phil Collins cassette and play it while I try to figure out what colors of scrunchy socks I’m going to layer underneath my acid-washed jeans.

And if you’ll excuse me, I really need to go fix my bangs.

Kindergarten Ninja

Way back in the winter, when Target was having its annual toy clearance, I picked up several things to keep on hand for birthday presents this spring.

And sure enough, we gave away every single toy – except for a lone Batman sword that was still hiding out in our hall closet.

And the other day, when I was in the throes of All The Cleaning, I found it.

So I took it out of the box.

And I gave it to Alex.

And OH. MY. WORD. – you would not believe the Batman Ninja Madness that has overtaken our home. The little man has used his mad sword-wielding skillz to challenge, among other things, the couch, the chairs around the kitchen table, several very tall trees in the front yard and countless imaginary bad guys.

It cracks me up.

But here’s what’s even better.

When he’s not busy fighting off imaginary foes, he walks around the house with his sword at the ready. Just like this.

Photobucket

I guess a little boy never knows when he’s going to be called on to defend the realm.

Or, you know, to defend his playroom.

Whichever the case may be.

And The Winner Is…

Photobucket

Congratulations, Linda!

And if you’ll email me your mailing address, I’ll get the stack-o-CDs shipped out to you ASAP.

Thanks, everybody, for the fun!