Just for laughs

I think I see a career as a pin-up model in her future.

Bad news, good news and flip-flops

I'll get the bad news out of the way first: I learned Thursday that Amelia will likely have to have day surgery to remove an ingrown toenail on her left big toe. She's battled ingrown toenails since she was a toddler because she inherited from my mother toenails that like to grow to the side instead of up.

I began taking Amelia to the nail salon about six months ago, and while the nail technician has done a wonderful job of "training" her toenails to grow correctly, this one has continued to give her trouble. Our nail technician recommended she see a podiatrist about it because he'd done all he felt he could do for her.

I first took her to the podiatrist about two weeks ago. He numbed her toe with a solution-soaked cotton pad, pulled what he thought was all of the toenail up from the side and clipped it. She was fine for a few days, but later came to me complaining and sporting the tell-tale signs of another ingrown toenail.

We returned to the podiatrist Thursday at which time we learned that surgery is likely our only recourse. However, before he will even schedule the procedure, she has to take a round of antibiotics to clear up the infection that has settled in her toe.

She goes back to the doctor on March 12 at which time we will learn when the procedure will take place. It will likely be sometime after March 23 as we are going on vacation the week of spring break. The doctor feels confident she can wait until after vacation to have the operation.

When performing this procedure on adults, the doctor does so in his office; but because he has to numb the toe first with two BIG shots into the top and side of the toe, he prefers to admit children to the hospital where they can get some "sleepy-time medicine" before getting the shots. Amelia and I agreed that she wants the "sleepy-time medicine."

Now for the good news: we learned this week that the hotel suite I have rented at the Courtyard by Marriott in Birmingham for the week of Lola's upcoming cranial surgery can be filed for reimbursement with our flex-spending account. Yay!

There are several hotels around Children's Hospital, but this is the one our doctor's office recommended mainly because it's the only one that's not a rat hole. It is however pricey. Jeff and I can swing the cost of the suite, but are thrilled to know we can recoup that money from our FSA.

In other good news, I have found two A- blood donors for Lola. The first is a friend from high school, who's mother was one of my favorite teachers. He got on board to donate after I posted a request on Facebook. The other donor is coming from Jeff's side of the family. His first cousin is a match and has agreed to donate. Additionally, Jeff still plans to give a pint even though he's O- instead of A-. Lola can get his blood because its considered a "universal" blood type meaning anyone regardless of type can receive it.

Lola will be going into the hospital on April 29 for her operation. She's expected to be in for at least five days, the first of which will be in ICU. I have been supremely fortunate to have connected via Facebook with three mothers who's children have had this same surgery. One lives in Utah, another in England and the third resides in New Zealand.

Each of these women has provided me with a wealth of information as well as photos taken after their children's surgery, and I am immensely grateful to them all. The pictures can be a little frightening, but after seeing them, I feel somewhat better prepared to face what Lola will go through after her operation because I have seen what the other children looked like.

Now for news about flip-flops. Amelia has been asking for a new pair of flip-flops for sometime now. She's been begging for a pair with bows on them ever since she saw such a pair in a catalog. I wasn't about to order the ones she saw because they registered in at $22 not counting shipping and handling. (For a pair of flip-flops!)

I checked out the sellers on one of my favorite websites Etsy where folks craftier than me hawk their wares, but I didn't fare much better in my quest to find a pair of inexpensive flip-flops with bows.

Since I recently figured out how to fashion hair bows for Amelia I decided to try my hand at making her a pair of flip-flops. I think I did a pretty good job.

I purchased the shoes at Dollar General for $1, the ribbon cost $1.97 for an 18-foot roll and I already had the Scotch Guard at the house. There are a few things, such as the tails of the bows, that bug me, but Amelia loves them so I am happy with them just the way they are. Amelia can't find a thing about them that she dislikes, except maybe that it's still too cold for her to wear them to school, but otherwise she is thrilled with her new pair of kicks.

Flashback Friday: What I Was Doing 25 Years Ago

Fourth grade. Cherokee Elementary School. Guntersville, Alabama. 1984. Michael Jackson's "Thriller" LP was all over the radio airwaves, "The Cosby Show" debuted on NBC becoming one of the first shows to be called "appointment television" and the space program was looking for a teacher to send into space.

I am seated third from the right on the front row. Others in my class are: front row from left: Winn Beard, Lessie Summerlin, Renee White, Cindy somebody, Jennifer Chaney, me, Kristy Conner, Regina Kelley; second row from left: Eric somebody, Shawn Johnson, Whitt Taber, Jason Kelley, Crystal Love, Shewanda Griffin, Kristy Womack, Brandy Bolding; third row from left: Mrs. Ballenger, Carlos Amado, Randall somebody, someone I don't remember, Glenn Hager, another classmate I cannot recall, Wes Selvage, Matt Beasinger, and Steve Lang.

Mrs. Ballenger was one the best teachers I ever had. We took lunch in the classroom because the cafeteria at the time was too small for eat-in diners. During lunch she would often read aloud to us. I loved it when she read "Dixie North." If she wasn't reading, Mrs. Ballenger would sometimes let us have dance contests. The aforementioned Jackson album was always our number-one choice. My classmate Carlos was an exceptional break dancer, who regularly participated in statewide and regional contests, so it's no surprise he often won our lunch time contests.

Mrs. Ballenger always managed to take the time to explain to us individually our mistakes on tests. I still remember her outlining for me that it only takes one letter to make a county a country and how much time she spent desperately trying to help me wrap my brain around the multiplication tables after I'd performed horribly on another math exam.

Additionally, when I recite the presidents of the United States in order I do so by recalling the presidential display in her room. Lined up along the wall near the ceiling were pictures of all of our former commanders-in-chief each with their name, time in office and a little factoid about them under their portraits. Because of this display I know Howard Taft was the fattest president to hold office and Lincoln was the tallest. When a new president is elected to office I mentally file him in order on this display.

Mrs. Ballenger was very astute at allowing each student to find his or her own place in the class and encouraged us to learn in ways that were best for us. When we were learning about our city in social studies, she allowed me and some other girls in the class to create for extra credit an exhibit of some of Guntersville's landmarks from poster board, glue, tape and markers. I was in charge of making the Hammer's portion of the display, which was proudly hung in the hall for all to see.

Through encouragement from Mrs. Ballenger as well as my reading teacher Mrs. Isbell, I discovered my love of writing. In fact, it was in Mrs. Isbell's class that I wrote and illustrated my first book, "A Dancer's Life," which tells the story of Judith, a girl who achieves her dream of dancing with the Russian Ballet only to have her career cut short by a paralyzing injury that forces her to reassess her life and turn to teaching as a way to keep dance in her life.

Mrs. Isbell provided us with the hardback books we used, and all we had to provide was our imaginations. This book is one of my most-cherished possessions.

Mrs. Ballenger, an Ohio Buckeye by birth, returned with her husband and son, Beau, to her home state after the end of this school year. Each of the students in the class provided her with our addresses in the hopes she would stay in touch with us. No one, as far as I know, ever heard another word from her.

To the best of my knowledge, Mrs. Isbell retired to her farm with her husband Stan, who was my reading teacher in fifth grade and another inspirational educator.

I have had many great teachers through the years: Becky Harris in first grade, B.J. Hammond in sixth grade, Rachel Bonds in seventh grade, Lynda Gayle Knight in ninth, tenth, 11th and 12th grade, Steve Stancil at Snead State Community College, and Drs. Eoff and Carmode and Rod Shirey all at Jacksonville State University. Each one played a roll in the woman, wife, mother and writer I am today. They all deserve a big "thank you" for the impact they've had in my life.

Maybe one day I can tell Mrs Ballenger the difference she made in my life.

Head over to My Tiny Kingdom to flashback with Anne Glamore and learn how drums came to be a fixture in her house.

To sleep: perchance to dream

Sleep has been on my mind a lot lately, specifically the lack of it. We are all suffering from having not gotten enough sleep over the last couple of weeks.

I'd like to be able to attribute this situation to some rare form of mass insomnia; however, the cause of our troubles can be directly connected to one very small, very cute culprit.

"Who me?"

There she is: our little sleep disturber Lola. This little darlin' has been keeping her daddy and I up most nights during the last 14 days or so. She's awakened us with various moans, groans, cries and screams. Sometimes she will go back to sleep on her own, but at least once a night she needs one of us, but most of the time me, to come get her, give her some milk and rock her back to sleep.

I wish she were more like Amelia was in that we could put her to bed sleepy but not asleep and she would slip off to sleepy-town own her own; but, unfortunately, Lola wants to be rocked until she's dead asleep. If I try to put her in bed while she's even slightly awake she will scream as if she's been dropped in boiling oil and not let up until someone comes to get her. She's a stubborn one that girl.

I thought her recent sleep troubles might be linked to her cutting a mouthful of teeth or to being hungry since she always drinks at least 4 ounces of formula when I get up with her so I've been keeping her well-dosed with Tylenol and teething tablets and feeding her around the clock in an attempt to get her to sleep through the night.

Despite my best efforts, she is continuing suffer sleep disturbances, which means we are continuing to suffer as well. I am beginning to think her stomach is bothering her and am grateful she has an appointment with the pediatric gastroenterologist on Monday because I am hoping he can help me solve this mystery. If he can't help, then I am resigned to believing we have been saddled with the world's worst sleeper.

I have been able to keep going thanks to loads and loads of caffeine as well as making myself stay active with various projects and household chores because if I sit down for very long I find myself drifting to sleep. I purchased two bottles of 5-hour Energy, which a friend swears by, but have yet to try it.

Keeping busy hasn't been very easy though as I have been too tired to care about some things. As an example I am providing photographic evidence of what happens when momma gives up:

I finally had to tackle at least washing the laundry because it was getting to the point to where I was going to have to either wash clothes or start wearing my old business suits around the house because I had run out of casual clothes i.e. jeans and sweats. The sheets and pajamas are still waiting to be folded.

I won't even show photos of how dusty my house is because I am embarrassed by how bad it is. I have never liked cleaning, but do my best tackle this chore. However, the last few weeks of me not caring whether the dust gets eliminated has resulted in a collection of dust that on first glance would appear as if I am conducting some bizarre science experiment.

Yesterday I was so tired that I actually found myself praying there would be no need for me to have to go anywhere in the car because I truly worried for the safety of myself and my girls should I have to drive somewhere. Thankfully, Amelia didn't have school yesterday and no other need to drive arose.

Amelia wanted to take pictures with my camera yesterday. I was too tired to protest and handed the camera over with a weak warning to be careful. As I was looking at the photos she had taken it occurred to me that she captured the face of sleep deprivation when she took a picture of me. Don't believe me? Well, check out this snapshot as evidence:

I could barely muster that smile, and I think I could pack a week's worth of clothes in those bags under my eyes. Thank goodness for Clinique's All About Eyes cream without which I would always look as if Samsonite had purchased ad space under my eyes.

Lola had a somewhat better night last night, but I cannot make any guarantees about tonight. I just pray we can resolve her sleep issues so the rest of the family can maybe book a few round-trip tickets to the Land of Nod.

Pretty princesses

Amelia attended a very fancy-schmancy princess birthday party on Saturday for her classmate Emily Anne. The event was very over-the-top, and the girls loved it. Here is Amelia and her buddy Mary Margaret, who, by the way, is quite a character, which you can read all about HERE.

There's never a shortage of drama when this girl is in the room. Case in point, she introduced herself to another attendee by saying, "My name is Mary Margaret, and I love to sing!"

I love that I captured in this photo Amelia using her etiquette. She's being so careful to keep her hand in lap and her elbows off the table. Makes a momma so proud.

The honoree, Emily Anne, opening her present from Cinderella with help from her mom Ms. Melissa. Amelia was thrilled that Cinderella found time in her busy schedule as a princess to drop by Emily Anne's party, although she was concerned that she left her mice friends Gus and Jacques at the castle. Cinderella told her not to worry because the mice would prefer to stay home as they do not travel well.

Amelia dressed as Aurora from "Sleeping Beauty" for the party and is so happy there wasn't another Aurora in attendance. Cinderella was very popular with three girls opting to come as her. There were also two Snow Whites and two Ariels from "The Little Mermaid."

Cinderella read the girls a story and then had her photo made with each little lady. The girls were treated to a very fancy meal of finger sandwiches, fruit with yummy dip, chocolate-covered strawberries, cheese, peach tea and, of course, birthday cake.

The chocolate-covered strawberries were a big hit. Mary Margaret loved hers so much that she ate it all including the leaves. Amelia really liked the tea, and both girls devoured the icing on the cake leaving the actual cake alone.

I felt terribly guilty because so many of the treats, especially the little sandwiches went untouched. I came very close to requesting a "doggie bag" so I could take some of the leftovers home, but decided against doing so fearful it wouldn't be prudent to do so at such a lah-ti-dah affair.

Little Miss Lola didn't go to the party, but, not wanting to be left out, made sure to remind us she is a princess also.

Confession session: Who's that girl?

To begin, I am thrilled the scale is still reading 238. I have been trying really hard to be more mindful of what I am eating and how I am feeling when I reach for something to eat. I had more sodas last week (four) than I should have, but I am going to try to do better. I think I respond well to baby steps. Anything that seems too overwhelming to me often gets abandoned very quickly.

My attempts at taking on a new "diet" where thwarted last week by my baby Lola. The goal of the new plan was to get at least 7.5 consecutive hours of sleep a night because numerous studies have shown that people who are well-rested tend to eat better and take in less junk.

Well, my plan to get more sleep just happened to coincide with Lola's conclusion that sleep is completely overrated and therefore must be avoided. I spent most nights up with her from about midnight or 1:00 until about 3:30, which is why by Thursday I had officially joined the ranks of the walking dead.

I can't be too hard on her though because, bless her bones, she's cut six teeth in about three weeks. She's been beyond miserable and has wanted someone, namely me, to share in her misery. I told my husband that Lola is likely going to develop a dependence on ibuprofen and teething tablets because she's been getting them around the clock for days in the hopes something would soothe her aching gums.

Because I have been running on much less sleep than I would like to get as well as trying my best to keep this house and family on course, I haven't been as focused on getting healthy as I would like. But, as I mentioned before, I am taking it little by little. I figure moving slow and steady is the way to go, after all I didn't get this big overnight, it took about 15 years.

People who knew me in high school and college remember me looking like I do in this photo. I've encountered several former classmates and friends since gaining so much weight, and, although no one has said a word, I've gotten that look from each of them. It's the look that indicates, "Oh my GOD, she's gained so much weight!"

Just to set the record straight - looking like I did in this photo did not come naturally to me. In fact, this figure was attained through the use of a lot of diet pills - pills I took with the full blessing of my mother.

See, what needs to be known, is that the members of my mother's family placed a high price on beauty and an even higher price on thinness, which is ironic since most of them were raised in the Holiness Church where vanity is frowned upon mightily.

I was always a chunky child, but I was never, by any stretch of the imagination, obese. However, I got a very different message from my family. I can remember when I was about eight years old being warned by an aunt that I needed to do something about my tummy touching my thighs when I sat down because that was terribly unattractive. From about the same age, my mother began imploring me to "suck in" my stomach when I stood up. I don't fault my mother for this because she truly didn't know any better and believed she was doing right by me.

Additionally, dieting was another message I received loud and clear on a regular basis. The obtaining and taking of diet pills was discussed openly in my family, which is why momma believed it to be the solution to my little problem. I was a junior in high school, had been active in marching band for years and probably didn't weigh a pound over 150 when she first took me to "the fat doctor," as he was known, to get a prescription for Fastin.

At the time, I believed I was HUGE because I was being subtlety informed of this by my mother and no-so-subtlety told so by the boy I was dating at the time. (He bought me a membership to an aerobics class as a birthday gift saying he figured it was something I needed.) However, looking back at photos from that time, I now realize just what a terribly distorted body image I had.

Today I know I am seriously overweight, but, you know what? I don't hate my body the way I did 17 years ago. In fact, there are times I feel better and sexier in my current skin than I ever did back then. If it weren't for needing to lose weight in order to protect my health, I might not think so much about my body today.

I actually am quiet proud of my body for what it's given me. I carried two beautiful baby girls in this body. Although pregnancy was by no means a breeze, my body did not fail me, but gave me the two greatest gifts I've ever received. And, whether I am thin or fat, there are things I really like about my body: I have great lips, small ankles and wrists, luxurious hair and nice boobs.

It's all about perception. I know I need to lose weight, and I am working on that; but my body size does not define me the way it once did. I pray my girls will be able to learn this from me and never fall into the weight-equals-happiness trap that I once did.

Flashback Friday: Yes, you heard right, I said seven.

I was in the bookstore recently eavesdropping on three young girls who were perusing prom magazines and discussing what kind of dresses they hoped to wear to their respective shindigs.

Listening to them I began to reminisce about the seven proms I attended. Do I need to repeat that? Okay. Seven.

Now that I am 35 and a mother of two girls, the fact I went to one or more proms every year from eighth grade through 12th grade seems ridiculous. When I was a teenager, however, I felt extremely special to be the bearer of such a unique distinction.

Here I am in the spring of 1988. The young man with whom I went to prom was a senior at our school - Douglas High School - and we truly were more friends than a couple. To the best of my recollection, we had a nice time. In all honestly, I couldn't have cared less about the event itself or even if my date had a good time because all of my focus was on getting a new dress.

My mother took me to a local formal wear shop, announced our budget and proceeded to help me look for a dress. I was immediately drawn to this royal blue confection, but it was just outside our price range. Momma vetoed my choice very quickly and demanded I find something else.

We stayed, I kid you not, another three hours as I tried on dress after dress. The only other dress I found that was both to my liking and within our price range ended up, after figuring in the cost of alterations, costing more than the blue dress, which, by the way, was the first one I tried on and wouldn't have needed to be altered.

Momma, who was beyond frustrated and tired at this point, allowed me to have my beloved dress. She did, however, make sure to get her money's worth out of it because I wore it not only to prom but also three beauty pageants in which she made me participate. I didn't win any of them, but my dress got lots of exposure.

Aren't we adorable? I was in ninth grade and 15, and Jeff was a senior at DHS and 17. It was April 1989. We were crazy about each other, and had been dating at this point almost a year. I've said it before, and it's honestly true: I knew within months of our first date that we would marry one day. Ten years later we said, "I do."

He and I spoke for the first time near the end of the 1987-88 school year one afternoon while we were both skipping seventh period. I called him that evening, we talked on the phone for hours and had our first date a week later (unbeknownst to my mother who had told me I couldn't date until I was 16. I managed to hide our relationship from her for about three months before she figured out her 14-year-old daughter was more than friends with this upperclassman.)

Because of the previous year's dress-shopping debacle, momma decided any prom dress I got this year would come with a much more inexpensive price tag. We purchased this one at a second-hand store that carried formal wear in excellent used condition.

I imagined Jeff and I showing up to prom looking as though we'd just stepped out of a very classy prom ad. My vision had him decked out in a white tie and tails so imagine my surprise when he announced he'd rented a pink tux. I was so mad, but he thought this turn of events was nothing short of hilarious. Thankfully, his mom was able to pull our look together by ordering me a black, white and pink nosegay. I still have it somewhere in the attic.


Prom 1990. My hair is bigger, my date is different; but I've stuck with the black and white theme. This dress was borrowed from a friend, which thrilled my momma to no end.

My date was a young man I had known since I was a little girl because his dad owned a store in our community at which we often shopped. He attended Guntersville High School so this was the first year I wouldn't be attending a prom at Douglas, where I was still a student.

For reasons I cannot recall, we didn't have professional photos made so the only documentation I have of our night are snapshots taken by his mom.

We attended the dance with his best friend and his best friend's date, who, no joke, was almost nine months pregnant. I remember she was very concerned what others might be saying or thinking about her coming to prom in her condition. I, however, was so impressed that she had the confidence to face her fears and enjoy, as best she could, her senior prom.

And, for the record, that couple is still together. Their son, who was born just before his mom graduated, is almost 19, and they went on to have two daughters, one of whom is nearly 18 and another who is about 14.

1991 Douglas High School Prom, below.

1991 Guntersville High School Prom, right.

Two proms, two dresses. I recycled my dress from the previous year to wear to my junior prom. I figured this was okay because no one at my school had seen it, and I really did dig the whole black and white theme. I even reused my nosegay from the previous year, and at this point my gloves were two years old and my necklace had already seen three proms. Frugality must have been with me since birth.

My date, who I met while working as a cashier at the Piggly Wiggly where he was a stocker and bag boy, attended GHS, which is why I got to go to two proms this year. My momma was again very happy that I was able to borrow a dress to wear.

1992 Douglas High School Prom, below.

1992 Guntersville High School Prom, right.

Again, two proms, same date; but one dress. Because it was my senior year and because I'd lost a heap of weight, momma agreed to buy me a new dress. We spent a Saturday afternoon browsing the racks at a local formal wear boutique, and I found my dress relatively quickly.

Our schools scheduled their respective proms on the same night, which is why I needed only one dress. Having two events to attend on the same night did not make for a great time.

Because we were trying to make it to both proms, there was no time to go out for a nice dinner beforehand. So, we ate tomato sandwiches at my house while trying to keep our clothes free of stains.

I remember so little from either prom because we were so rushed. I know we managed to get to his prom in time to find out who was named Mr. and Miss GHS, but I had to wait until the next day to find out who'd been crowned at my school.

At the parent-sponsored breakfast after his prom I won a set of three coolers that were given away as door prizes. The party after the breakfast was, to the best of my recollection, fun but my memory is somewhat fuzzy on this because by the time we made it there we'd both already had a few adult beverages.

Even though I went to four proms with this guy and dated him for about two years, I really don't have anything good to say about him. The coolers I won after prom have far outlasted our relationship. In fact, I haven't heard a thing about him or from him in 15 years. Looking back on my time with him, all I can glean from our relationship is that I am stronger and smarter for having survived it.

I have been asked if I wish I hadn't gone to so many proms or if I think my mom shouldn't have let me go to any of the ones I went to before my junior year. In hindsight, if I could do it over, I wouldn't have gone to the prom when I was in eighth grade; but I am still glad I went to the others - even the not-so-great ones - because I learned a lot about myself from going to each one.

In all honesty, the only thing I would change is I would have danced more. Of the seven proms I went to, the only one at which I spent a great deal of time dancing was the one I went to with Jeff. We had a blast dancing the night away even though neither of us can be called a great dancer. I guess we've always been comfortable enough with each other to let our true selves shine. Once again, karma knew what she was doing when she brought us together.

For more Flashback Friday fun, head over to My Tiny Kingdom where Anne Glamore shares her fondness for the unfortunate-looking and wickedly-mean cape buffalo.

Textless Thursday: Notice a resemblence?

Me at eight months old

Lola at eight months old

You know you're a stay-at-home mom if ...

1. You've ever wished your name was mud because you're so tired of hearing "momma, momma, MOMMA!" over and over.

2. You've forgotten the last time you showered.

3. You no longer know what it's like to poop in private.

4. You know all of the words to several cartoon theme songs but know none of the latest songs on the radio.

5. You know that SpongeBob Squarepants "lives in a pineapple under the sea."

6. Brushing your teeth and hair are neglected more often than you'd like to admit.

7. You and your kids don't change out of your pajamas more than two days a week.

8. You've ever counted the minutes until your husband arrives home from work.

9. You've ever managed to eke out one more meal from the items you have on hand rather than go to the grocery store simply because the logistics of getting out of the house with two (or more) kids and spending hours at the store is too overwhelming to fathom.

10. Picking someone else's nose or using your shirt as a tissue doesn't faze you at all.

11. Carrying nasty tissues or half-eaten food in your pockets happens regularly.

12. You've ever emptied the washer and/or dryer while holding a baby and talking on the phone.

13. The last concert you attended was headlined by The Wiggles or The DoodleBops.

14. Your clothes have permanent spit-up and/or vomit stains on them, and you can with great accuracy determine when "I am going to throw up" is a ploy for attention or a serious, DEFCON 1 kind of a situation.

15. You have ever given up the last cookie, bowl of ice cream or piece of candy because your child wanted it.

16. You've ever slept upright in a recliner with a sick baby on your chest.

17. You've ever had the urge to smack your husband because he's able to sleep despite the baby wailing over the monitor.

18. You know silence often means something is wrong.

19. You've ever allowed the dog to serve as both a broom and mop.

20. You realize your ability to love is bigger than you ever imagined it would be and you love your life in spite of all the things that regularly get on your nerves.

Flashback Friday: Love, Look at the 2 of Us

Christmas party 1988. I am 14. Jeff is 17. We were absolutely, in-all-honesty madly in love. He graduated the following May and joined the Army. Our romance did not flourish after this turn of events, and we went our separate ways.

Other people came into both of our lives over the course of the next three years, but karma obviously wanted us to be together because when I walked into class the first day of my second semester of community college - there he was. Unbeknownst to me, Jeff had completed his tour of duty and had returned home to cash in his G.I. bill.

My heart fluttered upon seeing him, but I tried to play it cool. During the next few weeks I came to look forward to each sociology class with giddy excitement because I knew I'd get to see him there. We talked before and after class, and I didn't learn a thing about sociology because I was too consumed with figuring out a way to get Jeff to pay more attention to me. In fact, I earned my first college "F" in that class.

It was worth it though because while I may not have earned a passing grade I did get Jeff. Not too long after we first saw each other he called and asked me out. On that second "first date," we had dinner at a now-closed Mexican restaurant in Gadsden, AL. Within hours we were an item again.

That was in 1993. We became engaged in 1996 and married in 1998. It was the best decision I've ever made. We've had our share of ups and downs since saying "I do" 10 years ago, and we can get under each other's skin like a bad rash; but there is no one with whom I'd rather share this journey. He is my rock. He is the yin to my yang. He is my true love now and forever.

To read more about Anne Glamore's Flashback Friday project head over to her blog, My Tiny Kingdom, by clicking HERE.

Wordless Wednesday: photos courtesy of Amelia

Amelia loves taking photos with my digital camera. I love letting her because it keeps her occupied and out of my hair for five minutes, plus I get photos for our memory books that I wouldn't otherwise have time to take.

Amelia can take a surprisingly good photo as evidenced below. But, as you can also see below, when she misses her mark, she misses it by a mile. Oh well, I'll take the bad along with the good because taking them helps her get better and because it makes her so happy to be able to use my camera.

Confession session: Trying a new "diet"

Got on the scales today and they're still showing 239, which is a good thing. I'd rather stay where I am at than go up.

I've been struggling to stay out of the cookie jar and haven't done a great job keeping my food journal.

Over the course of the last week I've found myself thinking more about researching the lap-band procedure because I am fearful I don't have the wherewithal to do this on my own, and I am scared of the diabetes doing irreversible damage to my body or taking years off of my life.

I can't figure out a way to work exercise into my daily routine, but am contemplating tacking a pedometer to my belt loop like blogger buddy Sunny. By 3 p.m. yesterday, she'd already accumulated 12,000 steps, which is 2,000 more than Dr. Oz recommends. I am attracted to the idea of tracking my steps because it feeds my need for instant gratification and gives me a daily goal to work toward.

In the meantime, I've found a new "diet" that I know I will have no problem tackling. I read about losing weight while you sleep in the newest edition of Glamour magazine. Sleeping is one of my favorite things so following the recommendations outlined in this article should be simple for me. If you're interested in this new "diet," check it out at HERE.

Dance your cares away!

Amelia and I are loving watching "Fraggle Rock." She has fallen in love with these adorable creatures from of my favorite childhood shows.

I discovered Netflix has the DVDs available and was so excited. I loved this show when it came on HBO in the early 1980s. We didn't have cable at the time, so I had to wait to watch it when I went to my cousin Dee Dee's house that was equipped with satellite television. I am not talking about TV provided by one of the dinky roof-mounted satellites that proliferate the landscapes today. I am referring to the satellites from back in the day that looked as if a flying saucer had landed in the back yard.

Because my ability to watch "Fraggle Rock" was limited by how often I was able to visit Dee Dee, there are many of the shows I didn't get to see when they were first broadcast. Therefore, I am thrilled to be getting to watch some of the shows for the first time alongside Amelia and share with her the adventures of Gobo, Mokey, Red, Wembley and Boober.

It's so fun getting to enjoy these episodes with her, and I am loving that I am now able to catch the subtle, insiders-only jokes aimed at grown-ups. I also love that the shows explore complex issues of prejudice, spirituality, personal identity, environment and social conflict without getting too preachy.

"Dance your cares away. Worries for another day. Let the music play. Down at Fraggle Rock!"

Flashback Friday: It's the Inner Beauty that Counts

Sixth grade was a rough year for me as I was struggling to navigate my way through my first year of junior high school. However, as evidenced by my get-up in the photo at left, I wasn't afraid to stand out from the crowd as I plowed through the often very rigid social structure of Carlisle Park Middle School in Guntersville, AL.

This photo was taken in 1985 around the same time Cyndi Lauper's song "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" was in heavy rotation on FM radio. I was so drawn to Lauper who touted girl power long before the Spice Girls were ever a twinkle in some producer's eye. I was attracted to her quirkiness and how unafraid she was to dress and act in a manner that suited her rather than in a way others would expect.

Although I caught a lot of flack from other kids at school for wearing this outfit for my yearbook photo, I am proud I had the confidence to pull it off. What I didn't have the confidence to do though was stay at CPMS. I finished my sixth grade year there and then transferred to Douglas High School in Douglas, AL to finish out my school years.

I am very happy to have made this move for two reasons: I was wilting under the social pressures at CPMS and needed to be in a school that offered opportunities for me to mix with different people socially, and I met the boy who would become my husband while in eighth grade at Douglas. If I'd never left Guntersville I would not have met the man of my dreams.

Years after leaving the Guntersville School System I reconnected with many of my old classmates. We were able to reignite our friendships, and I was better able to stand strong against that same rigid social structure. I don't know that I would have been able to make this happen had I stayed at CPMS. Looking back on those years reinforces my belief that karma kept me on the right path allowing me to become the strong, confident, independent woman I am today.

For more Flashback Friday fun, check out my blogger buddy Anne Glamore at www.mytinykingdom.com.

It's bow-tastic

I am so proud of myself. I have managed to figure out how to create hair bows at home for Amelia at a fraction of the price I would pay in a store.

My first four bows were created from ribbon and hair clips I already had at the house so I actually didn't spend a dime to make them. However, I bought a couple of rolls of ribbon for $2 a roll from which I should be able to make at least six bows. Those six bows, had I bought them in a store would cost me upwards of $60!

Making these things can be time consuming because if you don't fold the ribbon just right the bow won't turn out correctly; but, I don't mind taking the time to make these when I know how much cash I can save.

Confession session: Still trying

The scales are still reading 239. I am still keeping my food journal and doing my best to stay out of the cookie jar and away from the soda cooler. It's a struggle, but I am continuing to learn and change each day.

Wordless Wednesday