Good Stuff Cheap

This morning my friend and Black Friday shopping companion for the past few years, Tammy,  picked me up at 4:30 IN THE A.M. and we headed toward Chattanooga to ‘gather our goods from afar’.  Because we are P31 women that way. 

Now back in the day, leaving at 4:30 would rate us as hard core but apparently the Black Friday officianados decided to up the game and begin opening stores at midnight.  As much as I want to play, I am just too old.  After a full day of visiting three branches of our family and eating so much food I have to force-swallow the next bite so as not to hurt anyone’s feelings, I am just not up to midnight line-standing at Toys R Us.  Instead, I’ve relied more and more heavily on the online ordering in the past few years and much to my delight I’ve found that many of the BF deals are available without ever having to get out of my pj’s.  By the time I left this morning, I had already purchased the main things I needed.  So, the rest of the day was more about drinking Starbucks and chance lunch meetings with more church bff’s than stalking down a $98 television. 

Now back to the pj’s, I feel I need to interject a word here: 

Dear sweet women and their teenage daughters who wore pajamas in public today,  



Lisa the PW

I hope you girls who braved the crowds found lots of great deals. I am most happy about my $7 feather pillow. And if you wore pj’s to the mall, I hope you found some pants. And undergarments. And a laptop to order from home next year.  No offense.  I’m just looking out for you, darlin’s.  It’s my ministry.

Tammy and I were shopped out and home in time to watch the epic Iron Bowl between Auburn and Alabama. The ensuing trash talk that is sure to take place at church is why Luke and I have taken an oath of neutrality where the two teams are concerned. I like Auburn’s coach but Alabama’s team so it’s best for me if I just stay loyal to my beloved Dawgs and the most fabulous Coach Richt. We may not be winning so much but that in no way diminishes the awesomeness that is UGA football. Jesus is teaching our boys humility so when we are DOMINATING again we won’t be obnoxious about it. Yes, I’m confident that’s it.

So now that Thanksgiving has passed I am lying on the sofa on my cushy new feather pillow (did I mention I love it?) and watching embarrassing amounts of iCarly and looking forward to Victorious’ Freak the Freak Out. I’d love to hear what deals you scored today and what you had to go through to get them?

Loser Mom Goes to Camp

Last weekend The Girl and I went to Mom/Daughter Camp at WorldSong in Cook Springs, AL. I had been looking forward to it for quite some time because it is a rare occasion in our House of Testasterone that she and I get intense, girly, one-on-one time. She has also become even more sickeningly smitten with her daddy as of late so I’m doing the mature thing of competing with him on who can be the favorite parental.

This is where I would like to brag that I pride myself in details and that we had everything we needed for a successful 24 hours in the woods. Instead this is where I get to tell you that I’m a Loser Mom who mostly chases her tail and is lucky if she makes it out the door with two of the same shoe.

In the last hour prior to the departure time I rushed around the house and loosely consulted the check list for those things we needed: Flashlight, check. Water bottle, check. Bug spray, check. After slinging our things together in our suitcases we dashed out the door to meet our traveling buddies, Julia and Kayli.

All was great until we got to the camp ground and went to the gift shop. I browsed around and pulled a beach towel off the shelf.   I thought to myself, “Hmmm…A beach towel…that would be a good souvenir..”  Then it hit me.  I had forgotten to bring a beach towel.  Or any towels.  Or any washcloths.  So the optional souvenir beach towel became a required purchase but since they were $12 I decided to only buy one and use my terry robe as the other because I’m cheap like that. I realized I had brought my facial cleansing cloths that we could use to shower.  I was actually proud of myself for coming up with all these random survivor tools.  It was like I was Bear Grylls living off the land when the necessities were lost in rough seas or in an arid dessert or at home in my linen closet.  

After the gift shop stop we went to the cabin to settle in.  The cabins have bunk beds with those ultra swank vinyl mattresses.  The plan was to sleep inside our cushy sleeping bags which I would place on top of the mattresses rather than only having a thin sheet separating our faces from the place where some child has most likely peed.  That is until I realized that in the switch from Suburban to church van I had not transferred  the sheets.  Oh,  but wait for it, or one of the sleeping bags.  So, in inventorying our bedding supply, we had 2 pillows, 2 blankets, and 1 sleeping bag.  I gave my girl the sleeping bag, tucked one of the blankets around my mattress to sleep on top of and then used the other for covering.  Don’t even ask me how well I slept considering the bottom blanket kept sliding down causing me to wake with my cheek stuck to plastic and that my top blanket was too short to cover my feet.  Nice.

So it was in the midst of one continuous Loser Realization after another that I realized there is the camp mom and then there is The Camp Mom.  The Mom who brings color coordinated bedding along with a throw pillow.  Who has matching t-shirts with her daughter each day.  Whose daughter wears hairbows and whose backpack is monogrammed.  Who wears white shorts and they remain pristine the entire weekend.  Who excels at the words and motions to the Unit Song and actually strives to be the Best Unit Ever.   Now before you misunderstand me, I’m not knocking these Moms.  I am in stinkin’ awe of them.  I want to be them.  My daughter wants me to be them.  I only hope she didn’t notice her mom lacks.  LACKS, I say. 

If she didn’t notice, then her friend Kayli certainly did.   We were in the bathroom together where I rummaged through my bag to find my travel toothbrush.  And rummaged through my bag to find my travel toothbrush.  And clawed apart my bag to find the travel toothbrush that I KNOW THAT I PACKED.  The only toothbrush in the bag was The Girl’s which just happened to be shaped like a crayola crayon.

So, what to do?  I couldn’t use my wash cloth on my teeth like Jessica Simpson because I didn’t stinkin’ have anything other than the facial cleansers that worked fine to wash our bodies but not so much for the mouth.  I didn’t want to use our beach towel because, ewww, who wants to dry off in spit. Multiple times I might add because it was the only towel we had. I kept eye-balling the crayola toothbrush and decided my only option was to use the hand soap and hot water to wash and scald it and then {gulp} use a toothbrush that had been in my girl’s mouth. (And no, there were none in the gift shop. And yes, I’m an idiot for ever having shared this with another living soul.) Can there be no end to the shame?

Kayli was still standing at the vanity with me and wasn’t leaving anytime soon.  I turned my back to her somewhat and started the whole cleaning of the toothbrush hoping that she wouldn’t notice what was going on.  I knew I’d give it away if she saw the handle so I closed it carefully in my hand.  She seemed oblivious to what I was doing so I got careless.  It’s then that I heard the words I had dreaded, “I’ve never seen a toothbrush that looks like a Crayon.”  Busted.  Cold, hard busted using my kid’s toothbrush by a 7 -year- old who was at this time giving me a look that let me know she knew what she was seeing but couldn’t quite comprehend it. 

I know the feeling, Kayli.  I know the feeling.

By this point I was already exhausted and desperately trying to avoid cussing myself out and we were only 4 hours in. 

I have to quit whining long enough to tell you that we had a marvelous time and the camp staff couldn’t have been any more awesome.  I have no doubt they would have tried to round me up a toothbrush but my fear was that they wouldn’t have one and then would subsequently be watching to see how I dealt with it while being grossed out no matter what I came up with.

Okay, so let me wrap this thing up with a few pictures I took of the weekend. 

1.  The Girl and Me upon arrival.  See, she barely has any teeth so maybe using her toothbrush wasn’t so icky after all.

2.  A group song.  She gets really excited about performing in front of crowds.

3. These are my favorite.  We LOVED canoeing and kayaking.  The Girl caught on quickly to how to work the oars.  It was 112 degrees that day but we had so much fun the hour we spent on the water only felt like four instead of twelve.

4.  Hiking was also an option for the day but I told the Girl the slight untruth that the trail led all the way to the top of this mountain.  Thankfully she decided we weren’t up to it. 

5.  Love it.

6. Still love it.

7. Julia and Kayli.

8.  Rose and The Girl.  Rose didn’t want me to take her picture because she thought she looked gross.  I reminded her that there will come a day when she is 40 and will realize that she was adorable at 16 and never even knew it.  She said, “Yeah, my mom says that a lot.”  And then I felt old.

9. The boys asked if we went to a terrorist camp.  In reality, we were in a culture session where we learned about the lives of muslim women.  With the way my hair and makeup looked in the humidity, the head dress didn’t seem such an awful idea.


Even with all my Loser Mom moments I can honestly say that this experience was wonderful and I can’t encourage my SBC sisters enough to try to attend an event like this at your state camp site.  

And if I can offer a word of advice?  Be diligent with your checklist.

Diverse Facts Do Not a Blog Post Make

There have been several potential blog topics rolling around in my head but when I attempted to put them to screen, it became obvious that none of them would comprise an entire post. The fact that I have just admitted I lack the ability to blabber on for a few paragraphs about absolutely nothing should serve as testimony that I am either suffering from aspartame poisoning or that we’ve just started Vacation Bible School. Or both. Yes, most likely both.

So, in an attempt to provide some positively uninspiring thoughts for your consideration, I present the Top Five Blogs I Would Write If I Weren’t So Lazy:

1. I read magazines from back to front. I’m always disappointed when I get to the back pages only to find lots of ads and other things I don’t care about so I get that over with first. My favorite subscriptions as of late? Real Simple and Southern Living. I got both for $5/one year in an Amazon Deal of the Day. Favorite reason to read magazines: decorating ideas and recipes.

2. I lack the ability to stop the gas pump on an even dollar amount. If I go over one cent, I will try to roll to the next dollar only to go over 2 cents. And don’t even get me started on those little televisions at the Walmart Murphy stations. They place those on purpose so people like me will get distracted and pump $100 while watching sitcom commercials. Or $100.01.

3. I am insanely proud of Allison Black who represented our school and community in the Scripps National Spelling Bee this past week. She was the very first speller and opened with the word ‘serendipity’. Quite fitting for a girl who is finding joy in unexpected places after losing her precious dad, Randall, a few months ago.

4. We began Saddle Ridge Ranch Vacation Bible School Monday. I am co-teaching a 5th/6th grade class. Note to others working with this same age group: they will look at you strangely and with contempt if you ask them to yodel their memory verse.

5. The house is coming right along. Carpenters are framing the upstairs and we are supposed to have those thingies that hold the roof up by the end of the week. I’ve learned carpenters do not take a woman seriously who asks questions about the thingies that hold the roof up but thankfully this group of guys is way too sweet to make me feel badly because of it. I baked them cookies tonight to make up for having to talk to me on a regular basis.

I hope this week finds you well and hopefully blogging more intentionally than yours truly. It may sound like cheese, but I really do appreciate your coming ’round anyway.

Your notes make my day.

« Previous PageNext Page »