I ate my words…

About 100 times over.  The night times are going pretty well with Little Girl, but during the day she gets a little ticked at being in her kennel and tends to make a mess. Which is ok because I understand she has a baby bladder, blah blah, but it doesn’t change the stink in the room. We are going through candles like a pioneer household.

Oh! And on that note, we WERE a pioneer household for about 15 hours last week.  We had some major thunderstorms and flooding last week (which is great for the yard, so no complaints) and the dogs for certain thought that the sky was falling.  Which it might have, because when I got home from work on Thursday afternoon we had no power. Great news and just what you want to come home to after a long day at work.

I won’t bore you with the details, but it involved NO power (and 2 empty promises from CPS) for 15 hours straight, along with Husband and I and the puppy and her kennel, loading up and going to my parents house for the night. (We left Lola to enjoy some peace and quiet for the night.  She probably threw a party.)  The next day at 7:30am the power was restored. On our house and our neighbors. Because lucky us–we were the only two on the block to be taken down.

Luckily we had a backup plan because sleeping in a house with no power and no AC in South Texas as the summer is winding down is what you might call brutal.

So back to the girls…here’s how they’re doing together now:

lolaandpearlThe closeness is coming along.  What you can’t hear is Lola’s bark, which sounds like she swallowed a kazoo and it less than intimidating. Which is why Pearl feels free to own her.

Some of my favorite times look like this:

PearlchairThe zooms are over and she’s out for a solid hour or two…sweet nectar of the gods!  I love her dearly, but her energy is unmatched.

And here’s one more for the road….when Kazoo and Little Girl are knocked out. Also known as the Golden Hour.

sleeping dogsY’all have a great afternoon! I’ll try to crawl out of the kennel and post a few things this week.

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Puppy Love

  
I have to say…I love Pearl for her relentless efforts. Lola IS going to love her if she has anything to do with it. 

Persistence is the name of the game, folks. The sisters shared a room last night (Pearl in her kennel) and the crying was at a minimum. 

So…sorry to move the big dog out but whatever gets us all a night without incessant whining is what we’re all looking for.

Bonus: we didn’t have to wash Pearl’s bed this morning because: no accidents. I hate to brag, but I think we have a genius on our hands.

Watch me eat those words tomorrow. 

Step by step…

We’re getting closer!! 

To tolerance…not really love. As Husband put it “Lola doesn’t really have the mothering gene.” As demonstrated below.

  
So true. I think of her like Samantha from Sex and the City. Not interested in children and she loves her own space.

That being said, she’s being a great big sister. If you like the kind that ignores you and thinks you’re a pest. 

But hey, we’ll take what we can get.

Day 1: Bonding

  
We are starting slow but so far so good! Lola is tolerating Pearl and clearly…Pearl is the new girl in school just looking for her bestie.

There were some MAJOR whines and cries last night but it’s amazing what some ocean waves in both of our sound machines on our phones can cover. We did, however, wake up to some lovely messes in the crate. Totally expected but we’re now investing in candles.

It’s currently raining and we know we’ve made the right decision because both dogs love doing what we love to do in the rain, as documented below.

  
I think Pearl is hoping to join the plastics and Lola “Regina George”‘s crew. Any day now. Any day. 

Soup Slurpin’ and Birthday Boys

First thing’s first….TGIF, folks!! It’s another beautiful Friday and we have the whole weekend ahead of us!

Tomorrow is my brother’s birthday and he’s turning the ripe old age of 26.  Oh to be young again! I’m actually totally fine with being 33, except for when you have too much wine and it hits you mid-day when you’ve just started being productive, and the fact that everyone expects you to be a full-grown “adult” and be “very responsible.” Aside from that, I have no complaints.

Anyway, we had a little birthday lunch celebration with him today since he’s doing what any 26 year old with their own money and zero responsibilities does and he’s going on an overnight to Vegas with his best friends. (Cue the opening credits for “The Hangover.”) So if we wanted to celebrate, today was the day.

For years, affectionately and jokingly he and his friends have called each other “Little Boy.” We aren’t sure why they do or say a lot of the things they do and more than 30% of the time we don’t understand them at all.  But they “Little Boy” in a crazy-ish voice and it’s hilarious and English so we’re mostly all on the same page.

Since children are sponges, our oldest nephew has started picking up on that and instead of calling him Uncle Bobby, he now stops himself mid-sentance and calls him “Little Boy.”  It’s one of the most hysterical things to hear, especially when he says it in front of Bobby’s friends who then double over in hyperventilating laughter. Because, fact: there’s nothing funnier than kids saying things that adults say. (Even when it’s not appropriate and you’re not supposed to laugh.)

So at the birthday lunch, my sister shows up with the boys, balloons tied to each one of their hands, and a cake for the birthday boy.  And this is what it says:

littleboyMeagan for the win. Epic cake dedication, and you’re absolutely correct if you thought that we sang “Happy birthday, dear Little Boy!” as loud as we could at the restaurant.

Before this happened though, we had some lunch. Which, when the nephews are around at a Mexican food restaurant means that we have several plates of rice and beans on the table. Don’t get me wrong, refried beans and rice are delicious and the foundation that Tex Mex is built on, but they’re not usually the whole meal. Or anything exciting.  I mean, they’re not handing out The James Beard Award for rice and beans, but whatever.  My favorite thing is that my oldest nephew will now ask for tortillas and make his own “tacos” when his plate arrives.  It’s a total mess, but he loves it and from what I’ve observed of parenting if your child is eating something at all, much less semi-nutritious, you should let sleeping dogs lie.  (Full heart + full belly = full night sleep for all.)

So to my surprise and mid-taco bite, he took an immediate interest in my tortilla soup. So I gave him a taste and here’s what he said. “Ohhh, I LOVE soup, Aunt Bibby!! Can I share with you?”  (Try to hear it in a 3, almost 4 years old’s precious raspy voice. It’ll kill you.)

So of course I want to share my soup (there was A LOT anyway) and as any aunt obsessed with their niece or nephew you basically are just delighted when they pay you any attention above their parents.  So duh, I shared my soup (and I’m sure a few germs) with my lil punk and made little people conversation at Little Boy’s birthday.  File that under #bestlunchever

Everybody’s Workin for the Weekend?

It’s been a very slow and uneventful week.  Aside from an awesome baby shower for Poops and her little nugget, not much else has been going on so I apologize for the slow blogging.

I do have a few tidbits I want to share.

If you’re looking for a great summer book and you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend “Gone Girl.” Gillian Flynn has a VERY dark style, but yet very interesting. I couldn’t tear myself away from any of them even though their premises are typically really disturbing. If you have read it, try “The Girl on the Train” by Paula Hawkins.  Equally as good. I read it on my honeymoon. And if you’ve read that, join me in reading “Luckiest Girl Alive” by Jessica Knoll.  Apparently it’s the next one of both of these previous books. Which is totally taking the internet’s word for it but what choice do we have?

Old Navy is having a sale! And they actually have some pretty cute stuff right now that doesn’t look too “factory.”  I got this for an upcoming beach trip:

coverupI also got a good ol’ denim shirt. Because apparently the images of me as an awkward tween wearing denim on denim in the most high-waisted, belted, and loafered ways possible have finally dissolved from my memory enough for me to try again. Fashion is so weird. Or I’m that stupid. Anyway, it’s a cute, simple top.

denimThey had a lot of other really cute things that may find their way into my shopping basket before our trip. Just saying.

In other news:  True Detective is coming back on HBO on June 21st.  Cannot. Wait. This time we have Colin Farrell, Vince Vaughn, Rachel McAdams, and Taylor Kitsch.  Come. ON. Y’ALL.  Anytime I can watch Tim Riggins for an extended amount of time I’m ok with that. (And Pammy is too!)   🙂

On that note, I’ll say TGIF and have a great weekend.  I know THIS gal will!  #crushedit

libby denim

Help Hays County!

Want to help support the relief efforts in Hays County? Buy one of these precious shirts! 

  
100% of the profits go to the Hays County Disaster Recovery Fund. And they’re super cute! Tanks, tees, kids shirts and men’s shirts. Check it out and help our friends and neighbors. Link is here.

#TBT and The Fall.

So…here’s my attempt at a redo for this post. After being about 2/3 finished, I was an idiot and hit the back button on my browser. And there went my entire post. Since then, I’ve had a Diet Cherry Coke and have decided to try again. Here goes nothing. And pictures.

Sitting on the couch last night aching from a tremendous workout that morning I remembered that I had never actually blogged about our mini-moon we took to West Texas right after the wedding.  I believe I was thinking about this because typing seemed to be the only movement that didn’t hurt.

Since we got married March 14th, which was the middle of Spring Break for us Texans and the rest of the world, Husband and I decided not to head out on a big honeymoon right away so as to avoid outrageous prices and people. Not that we don’t both enjoy some amazing people watching, but we just weren’t really into an MTV sponsored honeymoon.

Side note: who else misses MTV Spring Break?? The. Best. Trash. I remember LOVING when that would be the only thing on their channel for about 3 weeks straight. Or was it a month?  Or does anyone on that channel really even work ever? (I would have made an incredible VJ.)

Anyway, throwing out all advice from our friends and family who had already walked down the aisle and said we’d be exhausted, we decided that a 5 hour drive the morning after the wedding would be a piece of cake. Turns out everyone is actually right!  But despite feet that burned like I was walking on coals, knots in my hair, and a bread crumb trail of bobby pins falling from my head, we got on the road.  On the wings of adrenaline and Whataburger taquitos we made it safely to Marfa, Texas. Seriously, one of the coolest places on earth.

Something you should know about small towns: they’re closed Monday–Wednesday for the most part. I don’t know if everyone is sleeping, cropping, or tending to the cattle but I believe that their little city councils get together and decide “Hey Tom, you’re going to be our Monday breakfast restaurant, Jill, you’re on for Tuesday, and Bobby, you get Wednesdays.” And literally decide that for every meal. Probably so that you can visit with everyone over coffee, diet coke, tea, or whiskey for each meal without having to try to hard. Because also, cell phones don’t work. It’s sort of genius, actually. It’s like a cattle drive for people and socializing. And local business profit margins.  Until Thursday when everything opens like a festival and everyone’s happy and singing Coca Cola commercials in the streets! And then Sunday evening everything shuts down and we begin again.

That being said, it was a wonderful challenge as an event planner to plan our Sunday–Tuesday trip around these hours.  We made it and we ate and found drinks, don’t worry.  However, since so many things were not open we were forced to find some adventures of our own.  Which tallied us up to about 10 hours of driving in the beautiful West Texas countryside over the course of the next few days. We saw almost every town in West Texas and had lots of conversation and laughs along the way leading us to believe that marriage isn’t so hard, y’all!  😉  Unless your iPhone maps stops working. Then things could get dicey.

Here are a few of the gems we found on our day trips:pradaNope, not a real store but a very cool art installation stocked with merchandise from the designer line. Prada Marfa is definitely something to drive out and see and you can read more intelligent things about it here.  And while we were there, this happened:

initialsIt didn’t really. We found it. And yep, those are my new initials (sort of). But I didn’t do this because I’d never.  Ironically, we did find that Husband had been doing some of his own tagging.  We’re all over Marfa, baby.

sterling initialsOne of my most favorite bar/restaurants in the town is called Planet Marfa. It’s run by some folks from our hometown, oddly enough, and is truly a sight to be seen. Great people, great drinks and food, and great people watching including artists, hipsters, posers, and cowboys coming off the ranch. And yes, that’s a teepee with a fire pit inside.  You should see the actual school bus on the other side of the joint, coincidentally with a working (and loud) horn.

teepeeAfter we wrapped up in Marfa, we drove about an hour to stay in Marathon, home of the Gage Hotel and the nearest point of civilization to Big Bend National Park. For those of you wondering, Big Bend is beautiful, very big, and very bend-y. And I may or may not have slept through about 2 hours of the drive across it because sunshine, plus Jerry Jeff Walker on repeat, plus winding roads equals snooze.  Also, JJW has been banned in our household for probably the next year because of the lack of CD options (who has these anymore?) and the lack of satellite radio connectivity for said drive through the park.  You really can only hear “Up Against the Wall Redneck Mother” so many times before it starts to do something to a person.

Because we’re cool, and made friends in high places at dinner, and I was on sabbatical still, we decided to extend our stay in Marathon another night. We just hadn’t hit all of the open spots yet, y’all, and I was real curious as to what happens on Wednesdays in Marathon.  Like, were people going to start cranking up? Do the blinds go up on all the stores and birds chirp louder? Are there really multiple lunch options? Burning questions.

I gotta tell ya, it’s a good thing we did stay. Because Monday night was the night of The Fall. And I’m not sure we could have hopped back in the car together so quickly afterwards.

Have you seen that commercial that I suddenly can’t remember what for, where the husband and wife hear the Dirty Dancing song and joke about her running to him for the lift? And then she does and he’s not expecting it? And they Chris Farley the table? And she explains that she came in too hot?

That was ripped off from us on our mini-moon.

I kid you not, having many a cocktail at the White Buffalo Bar, enduring the monsoon going on outside and contemplating the quickest and driest way to get back to our room, the following took place.

Husband and I start running down the sidewalk (me in new, precious, light-colored Tory Burch wedges and white jeans–I’m painting a picture for the ladies) we get to the gravel/dirt road that is puddled with mud.  My new husband, trying to be the chivalrous man that he really actually is (no lie), says to me “hop on my back, I don’t want you to RUIN YOUR SHOES.” Which is enough to make any woman swoon because shoes are our love language. (And jewelry, and perfume, and handbags–if anyone important is reading.)

I’d like to preface this with, this is something he has done for me before. It’s not a heavy thing, it’s not a he’s not strong enough thing, it was sheer stupids with too many martinis in them.

So he says to hop on his back and without counting (my mistake) I did. And we went down like Clark Griswold on a ladder, folks. Backwards. On top of me, directly on my bracing wrist. In my white jeans and cute wedges. In the pouring rain and dirty mud. That looked like poop on my pants the next day. (Praise God for Oxyclean.)

Well let’s just say that a lot of sobbing ensued. I thought I had broken my wrist, and there was a stomping of sorts about 6 feet in front of him all the way back to the room as he tried desperately not to laugh as hard as he wanted to and some drunken attitude coming from me. (My family will read this as “TONS OF ATTITUDE AND LOOK OUT”, which is a fair assumption.)

The next day I woke up with a purple hand, Husband wanting to take me to the ER, and realistically only a really bad case of severely bruised ego.  My hand ended up fine and we have a great story from the mini-moon for the future kids. The next day when tempers had cooled, of course. ‘Cause it wasn’t funny in the moment. To me.

Unfortunately, I have no pictures of this event for you as that clearly might have led to divorce at the time of the incident.  However, here are a few other fun collages of places we went and landscapes we saw. If you ever have a chance to head out west, do it.  You won’t regret it. Unless of course, you come in too hot.

Marfa 2  Marfa1

Also…I’d like to go on record saying that the second post was WAY better than the first.  #winning

Island Time, Mon

And Happy Cinco de Mayo!! Currently, this is my view:

  
I’m on a little last hurrah beach trip with my parents because, sob, my sabbatical ends Monday. Husband is at home holding down the fort and feeding the dog, bless him. I’m sure he’s ready for my faux summer to end.

Probably all of you are thinking, “hmm, sabbatical is almost over and we’ve gotten about 6 (maybe) blog posts out of it.” To which I see your point since originally that was the purpose of my time off.

I’ll share with you the following things I have also spent my time doing:

  • Organizing all new gift items and finding room for them in our home (which also meant going through every cabinet and drawer to get rid of the old stuff)
  • Writing ALL thank you notes. That’s right, I’m up to date now
  • Re-doing our bedroom (new bedding, art, etc) pics to follow
  • Painting my kitchen chairs AND recovering the seats myself. If you have never used a staple gun you just haven’t lived. 
  • Painting my drawers in our bedroom–this was a daunting task. Mostly because I used a “one coat paint” which ended up needing 4. 
  • Changed my name….on EVERYTHING. I know I’m not the first to do this but good NIGHT you put your name on a lot of things.

So, as you can see I haven’t been slacking, but rather nesting and getting our new life in one home set up. Hopefully no one (read: my employer) can fault me for a slight change of focus during my time off. I’ve been pretty productive, just not online.

I have really enjoyed getting back into the blog and will definitely try to keep my focus and continue posting. (Applause heard round the world.) And I do still hope to possibly write more in the future…and a book is still not out of the question. I’m sure all of you agree and you just can’t get enough of this blog and much like “Entourage” are hoping for a full-length version in the near future. 

On that note, back to the beach and my third cup of coffee at 10am where the hardest decision is what to eat for lunch. I’ll leave with you a pic of the newly painted furniture. Unfortunately I didn’t have the forethought to take a picture before I painted it. Clearly my brain is still on sabbatical…and hopefully it gets the memo on Monday.

  

Went to the Chapel…and We Got Married!

Wedding 1Thursday night I opened a much anticipated email from our wedding photographer, Darcie with Innovative Photography. (She’s amazing and there’s a link to her website. Use her!!)  I spent about an hour, with Pandora playing in the background, reviewing pictures from our wedding day with a large glass of pinot noir. What?

I had a blast going through all of the pics not just to see everyone but to actually get to relive the whole day. You always hear it from everyone “it goes by so fast!” “soak it all up!” and if you’re like me you kind of took those sentiments to heart but also thought there was no way you wouldn’t remember every aspect of the (so far) most important day of your life. I thought for sure I would remember so much more. And it really REALLY wasn’t because of alcohol! It just literally went by so fast and was a total blur. So going through the pictures was a little bit like going back in time and getting to do it all over again, without all of the nerves.

Which there were! Not because of anything specific but mostly because of all the PEOPLE, y’all! Holy moly…I don’t like the attention of “Happy Birthday” being sung to me in a restaurant, so gearing up to stand in front of 300+ people to say the most important words to my almost husband seemed really overwhelming. And public speaking doesn’t really bother me. Husband and I were laughing at the pictures because you can literally see the nerves draining from our faces throughout the slideshow. We look so much more relaxed post-ceremony, and then post-first dance, cake cutting, etc. we look like different people. Our usual selves, I guess, but much fancier.

The entire weekend was incredible and more than I could have ever asked for. Surrounded by so many close friends and family, we had an amazing rehearsal dinner complete with steel drums and a selfie stick. There were the perfect amount of heartfelt speeches and a wonderful meal.  My mother-in-law did an amazing job and everyone loved it. (Side note: I definitely hit the long ball with the in-laws, they’re the best.)

The wedding day was one of the most gorgeous March days. Literally. There were very few to precede or follow and if we’d had to tent the reception, well, we might have been in my parents backyard or something with my dad all George Banks-style at the BBQ pit. Because ridiculous is the price of a last-minute tent.  Sure, yeah, let’s just throw a nice car into the expenses of a wedding. So do-able. Only not at all.  And he’s a wiz on the grill, y’all, but you know what I’m saying.

Anyway, it was a gorgeous day and my aunts and grandmother had thrown the coolest brunch for the bridal party. Very relaxing, read: mimosas and bloody’s, and included a masterful creation of a cinnamon roll with bacon and grape jelly somehow worked into it. I can’t tell you how, but I can tell you that I could have had eleventy thousand of them because oh my gosh. Only, potbellies don’t compliment a wedding gown all that well and I needed that baby to zip so we went easy on brunch.

My mom and sisters and MIL and SIL got to the church very early, which was fine by me because I don’t like to rush in situations where some excitement/anxiety is present.  We slowly got ready to the background music of Motowns greatest hits and suddenly everyone was there and it was time to go! The day went by that fast.

I fought off the dirty cry (or as my friend Char says “the stepmom”) as my dad and I headed to the entrance of the church. And then the organ started playing and we were walking down the aisle. And it dawned on me about halfway down that I was walking down the aisle at my own wedding. It was like the day had been forging forward and my mind had finally caught up. We made it smoothly through a beautiful ceremony with no tripping–of words or feet–and in what seemed like 5 minutes we were outside waiting for everyone to take pictures. And were married!!

From that point forward, things went into ultimate fast-forward. We took pictures in the church, we got to the reception, we did our first dance, we cut the cake, we danced ourselves into oblivion with THE most incredible band ever and then it was over and we were leaving.

We’ll briefly skim over the part where our getaway car didn’t show up and we ended up taking the bands black minibus to our hotel instead. Because not much says “romance” like the sound of hydraulics and double-wide doors opening up.  Another great memory is arriving at the hotel (starving) and realizing that we had been given ALL of the to-go food (for my entire family who didn’t eat) and all of the leftovers from both cakes.  And we were heading to West Texas bright and early the next morning.

Those were the only things that went wrong in what was an otherwise insanely happy and perfect weekend, which were no big deal and provide for amazing stories now. It was the best weekend of my life so far because I entered into it with my best friend and left it with my husband. <Insert cheesy here. I know, but I don’t do it to you much. Just go with it.>

Anyway, I’ll leave you with a few other favorite pictures from the night.  I’m not sure why the alignment is so wonky. Yes I am. It’s because I don’t know how to arrange them. Sorry. And I promise to start working on some other posts of substance. Well, length anyway, I’m not sure how much “substance” you get from me. Ever.

Me and my sistahs

                          Me and my sistahs

Wedding Venue

              Wedding Venue

Cake!

           Cake!

Groom's Cake

    Groom’s Cake

More wedding venue...different view

     More wedding venue…different view