31 Flavors

If you want to know the true condition of a woman's soul, just be a fly on the wall with her while she's trying on pants in the fitting room at TJMaxx. After rifling through rack after rack at the Maxx (never EVER the same place twice!), trying not to monopolize the Size 6P rack but also trying not to be steamrolled by other Maxxinistas, she has gained herself a Maxxive migraine and she is headed toward the dressing room. It strikes her as especially kind that the retail godesses have decided not to call it a fitting room. Fitting room implies that one is gauging whether things fit, rather than just getting dressed. Much kinder semantics.

But the reality is that, some pants are just not going to fit. Muffintop, anyone? Plenty to go 'round! And three dressing rooms over, some bombshell is gushing with her girlfriends (how many of them can FIT into one of these DRESSing rooms?), "That top is so cuuuuuuute!" and the woman by her lonesome is sighing to herself over the fact that the petites rack is eighteen million yards away and she is now looking at the full-length mirror under unmerciful lighting at her thighs that look like two unbaked loaves of bread smooshed into one baking tin GAH, this is a tiresome business!

However, so as not to be all cliched, the woman reminds herself that she is being that cliched woman in a dressing room and that she should just get over herself and drive to Ann Taylor Loft where there is a Pants Event!!!!! going on RIGHT NOW, and she knows that the modern fit is for her, so let's just put our birthday moneys toward some proper britches and put on our 'at and be 'appy!

*** I turned 31 yesterday (and apparently I turned British in the last sentence, please mind the gap in consciousness) and today I went shopping for work pants and I started to be that cliched woman in a dressing room but then I reminded self that I was 31! And 31 year-olds do not cop to a cliche! So I bought myself some gorge new slacks from ATayLoft and one day I will show them to you and you to them but for now, let me show and tell some of the lovely people that helped me celebrate 31 flavors.

My colleague Tara and her famdam

Brianna made these cupcakes to live for...

My colleague Keely and her crew. Love having friends/neighbors/churchies with wee kidlets, too.

Aliya and Brianna. These girls will restore your faith in the next generation.

There are people. In my house. In Tennessee. They are not frowning!

*** P.S. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THE ASH CAMPAIGN. WE RAISED $178 TO FIGHT MALARIA. DOWN WITH MALARIA, UP WITH Y'ALL!

Birthday Wish: We Are ASH!

As you know, I lost a lot A LOT of blood last year during the birth of my son, and, due to a massive hematoma that formed, getting back to normal levels of iron in my body was a real challenge-- all of this while my husband was fighting a wallop of pneumonia. It was anything but easy. But outstanding medical care and practitioners made for a full recovery by the FamiLee. Praise the Lord! This year, as my birthday approaches, I'm supporting the campaign to raise standards of healthcare in Nairobi, Kenya. My dear friend Michelle Chang founded this organization and it's legit yo.

Here is a little video plug for this campaign. It only takes FIVE AMERICAN MONEYS to treat malaria! Can you get behind that? I am so grateful for your support!

Redheaded Nana

This past weekend, my mama, aka Nana Red came to visit with her BFF Anne Marie. They organized my linen closet and tucked the punks into bed so Loverpants and I could date each other. There was a coconut cake involved--it was fanceh! Nothing says loving like the folded fitted sheet and the free night of babysitting. Am I right? More and more, aren't you just so grateful for your mother? I don't know what your relationship is like with your mother, but I mostly discredited everything my own mother said until I was 24. Then I woke up from this haze in which I had all along mistaken her for someone hellbent on annoying me and Ruining Everything, and discovered that my mother is quite lovely, helpful, and sooo compassionate. I have had my battles with panic attacks in recent years and my mother has really loved me, I mean REALLY loved me through some patches of awful.

When I see how much my children love their Nana, I feel very squishy inside, and it's true that with love, the joys only multiply and the sads divide, and the coconut cake gets split so everybody gets a piece. But only if I remember to ask for a doggie bag (D'OH).

*** Chatta Children's Museum

Anne Marie and Little Man