30 October 2009

Things That Rock (and some that don't): Premier Edition!



WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Yes. I am excited. Nothing is more fun than sharing things you love, want or absolutely loathe... except maybe blogging about it, right?

My Thing That Rocks for this week is an impulse buy from Target (ok, the entire trip was one big impulse buy... whatev) - E.L.F. makeup.

OK, ok... I'm not totally sure what they were thinking when they named this line, but the makeup is surprising. I picked up a 4-piece eyeshadow duo's kit (included were a brush/eyeliner combo). Honestly, I just liked the colors and thought it wouldn't stay or go on smoothly (which is a common problem with cheap eyeshadow). I was so sure of this that I turned the corner and purchased a more expensive brand with half of the shadow.

I came home, tried on the eyeshadow. It went on smoothly, without doing 14 applications, and the colors are beautiful. I actually love the brush and the eyeliner is... just ok. But not too bad. It went on smoothly, but doesn't stay long. Actually, 'staying power' is my only complaint with this line.

My suggestion is to put on some concelear/foundation/base/something for this to hold on to and it'll stay longer.

The best thing about ELF is their philosphy - makeup shouldn't cost a fortune... the prices start at A BUCK.

A few of my favs:

This is the Duo Eye Shadow Cream. I bought this in 4 shades online last Monday. $1



Another online purchase - Plumping Lip Glaze. I LOVE plumpers. $1 or $5 for this set:




And the best part? If you spend $10 online (including shipping... so that won't be hard...) and enter the code 'MARIECLAIRE', you can get a FREE 27-piece Mini Makeup Collection! WIN!



NOW... what would this be if I didn't 'complain' about something? It would be boring. That's the answer I'm looking for.

As part of this weekly series, I dare you all (double dare) to post something that most certainly Does Not Rock. The Opposite of rock. The Un-Rock. I feel like you've gotten my point here so I am moving on...

This week's Thing That Most Certainly Does Not Rock At All is:
This link about how a nice alternative to eating your placenta is to MAKE A EFFIN TEDDY BEAR OUT OF IT.
*insert vomitting*

Ok. Now that we've all lost our lunch, we should take a peek at the Placenta Bear, right?
No?

Just suck it up... because I'm showing you anyways. Thank me later. Or un-thankme. Like the opposite of thank. (damnit amanda, they get it already)




OMG NO!
ok? NO. Just... .... .... ........ ... . .. ..... .. ... ....... just no. please.


So, here's how this works:
This little thingy below is for linking YOUR Very Own Amazing 'Things That Rock (and some that don't)'... you can write them whenever you want IN the same week. I will post these on Thursdays (yes, I know it's Friday). I moved it because A) I can and B) I can and C) Because I wanted to.

Enough reasons?

KTHNX

Get to linking people! This should be tons of fun!
(now who wants to help me make a button? gooood)
(***Edited To Note: I have no idea why blogger decided to do double spacing on all of my new paragraphs, and even after removing the HTML code for it, it still appears. So it can eat me and you guys can maybe ignore it. Maybe. ***)

28 October 2009

This Post Was Supposed To Be About My Kids Having Strep Throat. Huh.

So Mike went out of town last week (Friday early through Sunday late) and I was left with the boys for a long weekend.

Which, wasn't really that bad. ISSSSSSSSH.

Mike left us with some Money So Mommy Doesn't Have To Cook A Lot, which meant we went shopping. (duh)
"Poor Mikey" has lost 30+ pounds and his clothes are fallingthecrap off. Nothing for his bottom half fits - jeans, boxers... jeans and boxers.. yeah. And then there is Conner, the Magically Thin Child... who FINALLY made his way into 3T and some 4T clothes, but of course, his wardrobe challenges are as complicated as finding out WHAT THE HELL HE WANTS TO EAT (pulling teeth, people, pulling. teeth.).

He has no waist.

He seems to be long.

Some 3Ts fit length wise, no 4Ts fit waist wise... le sigh.


I found a few freebie jeans that had been handed down to Conner from a neighbor of my mom. They were Old Navy.

"Hummmmm... Old Navy..." and a lightbulb went off. SHOPPING!

This is dangerous.

On Friday night, with two kids in tow, I hauled all our rearends to shop. After fighting Chase The Escape Artist (he is so damn sneaky) for an hour, we left with 2 new pairs of jeans for Mike (can you believe he's lost nearly 6 inches from his waist? I know. insane), and 2 pairs for Conner (a 3T and they are long), 2 mitten and ski cap sets (we NEVER have these when we need them... I AM PREPARED.. for what? O hell if I know), and 2 shirts for me (yay).

(clearly I thought I was shopping for Noah's Ark (arky arky...) (OMG what is wrong with me) ) (* sings twosey twoseys*)

We headed to Target for a mop. Just a mop.

We spent 80 bucks.

Target is like a money-warp. You walk in, your brains are bedazzled with it's awesomeness and GottaHaveThisBecauseItCosts$5AndOMGThatShouldNotBeSoCheap and by the time you are done WhoKnowsHowManyMinutesLaterBecauseWHOCARESItsTARGET you've got no less than 68 $5 things which ADDS UP. (I should be banned from caps lock) (MAYBE TOMORROW). And then you don't even care and you can't put anything back because it's all AMAZEBALLS and whatever... you'll just sell off a kid or a dog or a husband or your soul. For more Target trips.

Some of my purchases from that trip will be in my Things That Rock blog carnival on Friday. Which I am considering making a Thursday thing next time. So yeah. Be prepared.

27 October 2009

I Might Be Starting a Blog Linky Thing That You Can Participate In!

Frequently on this site, I endorse things I simply love, things that I have tried, want to try, or just think are awesome (unpaid). Basically, I talk about things that just plain rock. Hard.

I know that there are like... no less than 1.56 billion blog carnivals, "memes", and listy-thingamajigs... so what is 1.56 billion and one? So without further ado, I would like to introduce you all to TheMomJob's Official "Things That Rock": a weekly blog linky-thingamajig where you can feature:
  • Something you love
  • Something you *think* you'd love if you could *just* buy it already
  • Anything you have seen that is awesome 
  • Things, Stuff, EVEN PEOPLE
  • Basically, anything and everything that rocks your face off
Anyone can participate.

.........and I wrote all of that (see above) last night. But this morning? I don't know what to call my blog carnival.... but I also want to include an option for you to talk about things that absolutely DO NOT ROCK. I thought about "Rocks It, Knocks It" ? No? Any suggestions?

 I will do a Mr. Linky (or something comparable) for this round-a-bout of FUN and I will make a button with a "grab it" code... don't you fret. Kicks off this Friday! WHO IS EXCITED!??!?!

(o come on) (this is fun) (seriously) (this is EXACTLY what fun looks like) (no?) (YES) (DO IT) (it MAKES YOUR BABIEZ PRETTY) (swear) (don't make me pull out the Muppet Show Mad Scientists again)

26 October 2009

I'm Sure This Is Sanitary Advice

This is how you know you are getting old and/or need a life. You get excited about a new mop. NOT just any mop though, I might add... but this mop:




A Libman wonder mop. ($10 - Target)

It's kinda fantastic.

I'm not going to bore you with a review about how and why this thing is great, but just know that with little effort, this appeared as a reflection on my floor:



I mean... my kids wouldn't DARE walk across this dude's face... that's just frightening. And those eyebrows? They might be contagious. As is the orange glow of his skin. He is basically radioactive. That's right, this mop can leave large, orange radioactive men to scare away your dirty children on your hard surfaces.

YOU'LL NEVER MOP AGAIN.


**somehow managed to actually type a few good points about this mop in the comments section... go there... it's where the cool kids hang out... **

23 October 2009

Poppy Seed Chicken

O guys, I'm living off casseroles. And not just any casserole, but poppy seed chicken ones. This slightly sinful chicken dish is a frat and sorority house staple at Alabama and I am madly in love with it.

As a matter of fact, I made two 13x9 pans of this stuff yesterday... that's 3 lbs of chicken.

I ate it 4 times yesterday.

It's only 10:12 AM and I've already had a bowl of it...

Hi, my name is Amanda and I'm a Poppy  Seed Chicken A Holic.

hi, amanda
(don't you DARE try and stage an intervention)

Here's what you need:
1 lb. of chicken - boiled then shredded
1 can of Cream of Mushroom soup
8 ounces of sour cream
1/4 cup milk (I prefer whole)
1 tablespoon poppyseeds
1 package Ritz crackers
1/3 stick butter

Preheat oven to 350. Place your boiled and shredded chicken in the bottom of a lightly greased13x9 dish. In a seperate bowl, mix the sour cream, cream of mushroom soup, milk and poppseeds (lightly pepper and salt). Mix well. Pour mixture over the chicken, spreading it evenly. Crush the package of ritz and pour over the top. Drizzle (hate that word) melted butter over ritz and sprinkle a few more poppyseeds.

Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes.

Carefully remove from oven. Salivate over your casserole dish. Find fork. Stick fork in less-than-obvious place (I recommend the corners). Take a bite. Realize bite is super hot. Administer the "backwards blow" without much success because frankly? The bite is already scalding your tongue and no amount of backwards blowing will do you any good at this point.

Wait 5 minutes and actually serve yourself a big helping.

I feel that this dish is best reheated. It gives the chicken time to take on the tanginess of the sour cream and the other flavors to really mingle. Noteworthy: I actually hate sour cream but this doesn't taste a THING like sour cream.


ENJOY!

21 October 2009

I Wasn't Joking

I am not lieing - every. single. girl at the Alabama game had on:
A long top/dress/shirt/whothehellknows
Leggings
Booooooooooots

I went against everything that Alabama instilled in me and wore TENNIS SHOES. I am not exaggerating when I say it felt AWKWARD and OFF and I was FIGHTING the urge to pull out my open toed pumps (in my purse, see? I couldn't even leave them at home. THAT IS HOW WRONG IT IS).

And to make matters that much worse, I was basically shoe shopping with each person that passed me.

Ankle boots, Knee highs, booties, uggs and other fuzzy like-minded versions.... o all the shoes! My head was spinning.

One thing that surprised me was frequency in which I witnessed brown boots with black leggings. I thought that was a no-no? Apparently not-so-much... Even black purses and bags paired with brown boots and black leggings. Never have I ever...

Sooo
Not only did I jump on the chance to purchase a pair of boots at an adorable boutique on campus and across from Bryant-Denny (Private Gallery), but I ALSO bought brown ones and wore them WHILE CARRYING A BLACK BAG. Gah-asp.

And people. They are amazeballs.

(Pardon my white legs that appear even whiter than they are due to poor lighting) (and a lack of self tanner)


(they can be found here, cost: $36.00... yes! 36 DOLLARS! They have knee highs for 50. I know, I know..)

It was 40 degrees on Saturday. I was NOT wearing leggings (I missed them the entire time I was there)(and no, I didn't put them in my purse with my heels) (but I thought about it). So, I wore my NEW BOOTS with dark jeans, a flowy white top and a black crop jacket. Oh, and a houndstooth bangle. And pearl earrings.

The craziest thing about the 45,000 pairs of boots I saw that weekend? How many girls were wearing them with TINY skirts SLASH BARELY A SHIRT (one girl had on an orange shirt that I saw and tried on at Express last year... IT. WAS. A. FRICKIN. S-H-I-R-T) and NO leggings. I was shivering in jeans, boots, knee high socks under my jeans, two tops, and a jacket and a vodka with cranberry juice

WHY WERE THEY NOT WEARING ANY CLOTHES?

(Noteworthy: In the SEC, girls take football seriously. To exaggerate that, the tradition of football games as a social event that requires "appropriate" dress is something very University of Alabama. On any given Saturday during football season, you can find girls from head to toe in their Sunday best, pearls and heels. Guys typically wear a nice shirt, khakis and dress shoes (pledges wear coats even). Some people laugh, some don't understand, but to me? It's not a football game if I am not dressed up.)

20 October 2009

Not A Super Fun Post, But A Start

My mom is nothing short of hounding me about this... and apparently, God is trying to pester me as well..
Yes. God CAN pester you about your blog.
TOTALLY possible.
Swear.

God hearts blogs, too. You should see his Google Reader. Bananas.

PS - if God can follow my blog, you should too... it's only right.

I should probably clarify how God is 'bothering' me about my blog. Yesterday, I got my first check from BlogHer for my ad space. It was kinda a kick in the bottom that I should at least TRY to publish something even though I keep thinking about it and then I hesitate like whoa.

So yeah. Bloggy blog.

We went to the Alabama game (Homecoming vs. another SEC team (dumb idea whoever made that call), South Carolina). It was fabulousness covered in awesomesauce.

92,000+ people packed out Bryant-Denny.








The whole town was incredibly crowded (in the best kind of way) and we made it just in time for the end of the Homecoming parade. JUST in time to see Michael's fraternity showcase(?) 3 pledges walking naked in the parade covered by merely a blue barrel with the frat's letters painted on the front. Yeah...

We also attempted to find a friend of mine (Donya, see the  Pitter Pat House logo to the left...) about 10 minutes before the team and Coach Saban were to arrive at the stadium, so we were stopped to try and catch a glimpse of Saban and LORD DID WE.

It was 11 kinds of amazing.

No, make that 12 - one for each National Championship.

Eh. Wait..

MAKE THAT 13 FOR THE NEXT ONE!

We managed to get about 10 feet from him and I'm not going to lie... it was exactly like seeing Jesus.
Except that I haven't seen Jesus. But, I have now seen Saban... so... yeah... I WIN.

It was freezing. I got new boots (drooooooooool). We won. Alabama is now ranked #2 and #1 in the AP poll. And I got new boots.

Oh, and I saw this sign:
(It says "Slow adults at play") (I've seen this sign a thousand times before) (Just never taken a picture)



I should probably do a post on just the boots.... Hmmmm.

16 October 2009

Blog Tease

Per orders? instructions? suggestions? O who knows... I'm *supposed* to keep this site up. I just don't know where to start... or when.

11 October 2009

This Is What You're Looking For

 I have to be honest here - I am forcing this post out because I feel I owe it to you guys who have been nothing but completely amazing and supportive through this entire adventure. This entry will come with a lot of tears on my part, so my apologies if it is all over the place, short, vague or anything else other than what you'd normally expect from me.

Some of you think you know what's going on. I can assure you, however, that not a single person reading this right now knows the truth. I am completely, entirely, shattered. And I can not say with 100% certainity that I have all of the pieces to put them back together. Some of my pieces aren't even mine.

If for some reason you believe you DO know what's going on - well, kudos. You've won a game you created. But let me assure you that unless you ARE me (hello, me), what you think you know is merely a gathering of your own perceptions, opinions, observations and assumptions. Those things do not add up to the entire picture. I don't expect you to understand that maybe, just maybe, I can both in the wrong and in the right at the same time.

When I set out to start this blog, I wanted to establish an identity for myself that I had in the works my entire life. A person that I felt I wanted to be, a person I knew I could be - a new me. Someone who had more confidence, who wasn't afraid to make jokes that she knew other people might not get while the others laughed because it was just what they wanted to here. I wanted to stop hiding the girl that found happiness something that was ok to enjoy.
(and this is the line I broke down on)
I never expected what I got from just that.

To accept the person you always wanted to be, the person that depression can hide and a lack of confidence can push down, means you must accept a certain degree of extreme change.

A good change.

An absolutely amazing change.

One that I wish I could say, right now, I didn't regret.

But unfortunately, I think I just may.

This is something that I can't keep choking down and avoiding with additional sentences....

Sometimes. Maybe - the person you are when you are at your lowest... the person that IS depressed and can't be the 'better version'... maybe that person is controlled and repressed just enough to find happiness in tiny moments. It's completely possible that the boring, repressed, undefinable, moldable, impressionable version of me is just a way for me to be ok with being nothing more than the lists of "justs" I have. Just a housewife. Just a mom. Just Amanda.

With that... I consider it unfortunate that I worked on being better at life. Trying to beat the game doesn't always work. Sometimes you simply have to accept the person you never wanted to be for the sake of others.

I love you all. And I'll try my best to keep up this site. I just can't promise anything like what's been here before....
That person is already gone.

First Cut Is The Deepest

but the last cut means it's done.
i'm sorry.

07 October 2009

Can I NOT Borrow Your Phone?

Whilest visiting a very funny (and NSFW - not safe for work...) website (Toy With Me) contributed to by Crissy, The Queen of F'in Everything in which she writes in FIRST PERSON (shocker) about ... um.. "adult stuff"... (really, it's humor, but ADULT humor...), this ad caught my eye:




Can you IMAGINE? Who abuses their phone like that? And who on EARTH decided that this was a good idea?


I will not be asking to borrow anyone's blackberry ANY time soon.
Thanxbutno.


Obviously, I do not condone the use of your cellular device in any area it might get wet. Try explaining that one to the warranty people.

"So, ma'am. I suspect that your device was exposed to some moisture or condensation. I'm going to check this indicator under the battery to see if that's the case. It turns from green to red if exposed to anything wet. Can you think of any instance where your cell phone was placed under these conditions?"

You: "Well... I do use my phone as a vibrator. Does that count?"

And that's how you void your warranty. HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT.

06 October 2009

Right Of Passage

My children should fear me, but they do not know what mishchief I've been up to. But if they did - they would probably put themselves in Time Out for fear of acting out.

I've purchased the Holy Grail of Obedience Reinforcement. Not a new belt - we all know those leave stings that fade quickly (and some don't even hurt that bad). You can't buy "switches" at the store - which really? Those are very close to actual child abuse.

I didn't get a Time Out Square.

And I didn't start a rewards chart.

I now own the one thing that still means "ouch" to me instead of it's intended purpose.




A wooden spoon.

It's magical, really. These spoons give the parent an extra 8 inches of reach. With little force, they leave one hell of an impression. What was likely invented to stir sweet tea or serve macaroni and cheese is instead used to persuade good behavior within mere seconds of its appearance.

I feel like this is a right of passage - one that I earned through countless wooden spoons that have broken on my appendages as well as the cumulative 20 months of pregnancy and labor of 2 children. I have earned the right to use the Ultimate Punishment in the fearful eyes of a disobedient child.

And I'm totally proud to welcome the wooden spoon to my arsenal. Bring it kids.

04 October 2009

On Toilet Training Cats vs. Small People

A girl I know from high school was brave kind enough to share these photos with you, my dear faithful blog readers. Why do you accept my verbal torture?

For gems like this, you see...

Jenny has cats. I don't have cats. I have humans - small humans. But apparently? When it comes to potty training boths cats and small humans, it still involves quite a bit of trickery, some patience, and a pinch of humor. Ok, a gallon and a half of humor. Annnnnd flushable litter.

Step One:
Apparently, to potty train a cat you have to first get them to view the toilet as something other than a source of fresh, cold water. Which, I can see as a HUGE strike against training cats vs. small people. My kids don't normally drink out of the toilet OR try to pee in the frig. I think.



So, step 1 is to put a bowl of kitty litter in the toilet. Check.



Step Two:
Let your feline adjust:






Step Three:
After your cat/non-person adjusts to having their Fresh Water World rocked, replace the regular bowl with a "half bowl". I am too lazy to google this, but I'm sure it is much like taking the seat off a training potty and throwing it on The Big Boy Toilet. This way, the cat gets accustomed to the water.



See?




Step Four:
Um. I guess you "wait". And then your cat does this:




I mean, this post wasn't going to be complete without a picture of a cat using a toilet. Right? Right.


As with humans, you can't exactly communicate with your cat on WHY and HOW to use the pot. You just have to brace yourself for accidents and mishaps. And a lot of poop. And pee. Lots of those things. Ugggh.


It's helpful to mention that Jenny used flushable litter. And in full disclosure, Jenny says turn off the radio (how was I going to avoid THAT?) her cat isn't 100% on this yet, but it's a "work in progress".

.............as it is with my kids..............

(For additional help with toilet training your husband cat, try googling it. It's Sunday people, I'm not linking it for you)

This Little Man Can Hold His Own In A Post




02 October 2009

MM. Motor Trend.



I picked up 2 magazines, glanced at the title and dismissed them into the chair beside me.

One was Motor Trend Magazine.

I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner:



              

An hour and a half long blood draw, and not ONE word/tear/total meltdown OR even BOREDOM (for him, at least...).
The angels sang.

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