What Kind of Idiot Am I?

Yes, I must be one. You can stop counting the traits that prove this label. We're going to concentrate on just one right now.

So here I am, going about my merry little life, when all of the sudden Black Friday hits. If you don't know what it is, I'm impressed. You are not swayed by mass marketing like yours truly. Like many thousands of other idiots I leave a nice warm snuggly bed bright and early (actually still dark and early) clutching onto lists, fliers, sales papers, coupons, and newspapers and take off.

This is my self-portrait. My arms are too short to take a picture of myself at 4:00 in the morning. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. But I really am this skinny...and I do dress this fashionably too.

Did you know there is a lot of traffic at 4:30 am on Black Friday? Interestingly enough, all of the traffic lights are synchronized perfectly, unlike during daylight hours. At least I think they were. They were for me anyway. Hmmm...

This is Toys R Us at 4:38-ish. Notice how far away it appears? Appearances are not deceiving. I didn't actually get in the TRU parking lot, but two lots over.

Here is Circuit City at 4:39-ish. How convenient that some fabulous city retail planner would put these two money pits next to one another! It sure makes my Black Friday flow a little more smoothly.


Speaking of city retail planners, I'd like to find out why a metro area this size has only one stinkin' Toys R Us. I'd like to speak with this person and maybe show him a nice parcel of land a few blocks from my house.

Then again, maybe not.


Did I mention the size of the line? Or the fact that it's cold? Or that it's now raining? Or that it's 4:40-ish in the morning? So after standing in line with half of the other parents in the city at this one and only TRU, I manage to get the heck outta the place two hours later.

This is Target at 7:17-ish. Crowded also, but better. At least I'm in the same parking lot.


Here's Stage at 8:13-ish. Even closer, wow! Of course by now nothing I wanted to buy remains. I persevere, but at a quicker pace.


Here's WalMart at 8:39-ish. Yes, I'm in the very front space. I saw the parking lot at 4:20. Even I'm not that much of an idiot. But I was on a quest for a box of graham crackers, and they could wait until 8:39. I bought them without even so much as standing in line.



I was quite fascinated by a radio advertisement I heard repeatedly during my morning drive informing shoppers of WalMart's status as the largest importer of Chinese-made products in the US. Perhaps it had some people listening and thinking. The entire time I was in the store, messages over the loudspeaker kept announcing the availability of doorbuster merchandise that, in years past, would have been sold out in an hour.



The following series of pictures I affectionately refer to as "the long road home."

I'm now putting up my feet and sipping a well-earned latte while I contemplate what a great wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt...and idiot...I am.

I hope you had a wonderful and blessed Black Friday Eve. That's Thanksgiving to all you non-idiots of the world.

I'm Happy Today

Some things make me very happy.

But other things make me completely ecstatic.


"It was what it was."

That is an amazingly profound and deep intellectual statement. Boy how I've missed such tremendous insight. Or not.

We bleed purple and gold, of course, but don't even mention to me that Mrs. Saban has been seen house hunting around here. LaLaLaLa, I can't hear you. There are some things that don't bear repeating, in words or, most importantly, actions. Hmph.

A What Tree?

So do you know what this picture below is? I thought I knew as well, but apparently we're being sent down a convoluted trail, one which is disturbing on so many levels. I'm not confused though, and I'll clear it right up.


This is a Christmas Tree. Specifically it is my Christmas Tree from last year. It is not a "Family Tree" (ya hear that Lowe's?). Nor is it a "Holiday Tree" (ya hear that Target?).


My family is sitting under it. Actually, they are fighting under it. That doesn't change the title of it one iota. That merely makes it a family's Christmas tree or a tree for display during the Christmas holiday. Can you see the difference?

Here's where I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Shhh. Don't tell anyone, but it's not a real tree. It's an artificial one. Pick yourself up off the floor now and admit you are shocked that such a lifelike beauty is actually made in a manufacturing plant and began as a bunch of plastic pellets.

You know this is leading up to something. At least you're hoping it is, right? Well, the tree is getting old and losing lots of needles (see I told you it was lifelike). It will probably need to be replaced soon. Next week I'll drag it out of the attic to see if this is the year, or if it can hold out one more season. Regardless of when I replace it, I do know what I will buy. And what I will not.

I will not buy a Family Tree (sorry, Lowe's). I will not buy a Holiday Tree (sorry, Target). I will buy a Christmas Tree. Bless you, Hobby Lobby, for calling a spade a spade...and a Christmas Tree a Christmas Tree!

Now I'm going to wash the political correctness rant off my fingers. The next post will be back to my regular "aren't my little darlings just perfect?" posts to which you look forward. And believe unequivocally.

The First Snowfall of the Season

The first snowfall conjures up images of a magical time, a time of enjoyment and bliss, a time when people of all ages are like kids playing in the soft whiteness. Did I mention fact that we live in the south? The deep south? And the fact that I'm overwhelmed in papers, files, and excess documents everywhere? Stuff that must be shredded.

So welcome to our first snowfall of the season...my style!



We had a blast, but what was even more fun was the following night. I shredded about ten times more paper, and had two more kids joining in the fun. Of course I forgot to take pictures until halfway through cleaning time. Some things I will stage to get a good picture, but five garbage bags of confetti does not qualify. I guess you just have to take my word for it...it was so much fun and so much mess!

I think Babiest decided to hide some for later. I've found handfuls in a couple of different drawers, a pot, his closet, and the Little People Farm (I'm guessing for animal bedding since we've lost the hay bale). I doubt I've found all hiding places because some kept appearing today, but I never found the stash. Too bad it doesn't melt and disappear. I wonder how long I'll find paper shreds in hidden places...

You Know You're a (Baby) Redneck When...

You must always teach your kids to define themselves and you must give them a sense of self-worth from early on. In an attempt to define the Babiest, the Baby Redneck looks like a very appropriate category. In order to determine if he qualifies as a Baby Redneck, let's look a bit closer, shall we?



A Baby Redneck likes miscellaneous colorful plastic things in the yard...

A Baby Redneck never lets his swim diaper match his rubber stomping boots...

A Baby Redneck accessorizes with a hose pipe and a plastic sprinkler...

Yep, I think we've found the right category. But I'll not let him place any large appliances on my front porch. Without my permission.

Deal, or No Deal

I'm not really going to say much about what's been going on. Here's the abbreviated version: burns (but you probably already read about those) pneumonia, more pneumonia, yucky virus, ear infection, more ear infection, and more ear infection, termites, and a very nasty stomach virus (repeat that to yourself four more times, please; I don't have the energy to retype it). I'm not going to say all is finally well here because, ahem, I'm not quite ready for that much commitment. My commitment-phobia pops up in the strangest places, as you see.

Needless to say a lot has happened since I last posted. I'll walk you back through everything in upcoming posts, but for now I'll just start at the, um, now. Okay, ready?

So, what's the deal about Deal, or No Deal, you ask? In the past D and I have spent the first couple of weeks in November hiding in the closet, avoiding the sugar-induced pandemonium that follows a tremendous windfall of the trick-or-treating variety. A couple of years ago I came up with the brilliant idea that I could possibly "buy" the candy back from them--for a price, of course. Knowing that the guys are not very concerned about growing their wealth (or protecting their teeth), I had to come up with something really enticing to cause them to give up the stuff they walked so hard to earn. Cold cash wouldn't do it for them. Uh-huh.

This is where Deal, or No Deal comes into play. The boys really like the show, so I made our version of it at home, with Halloween candy as the currency. In the "case" (a gift bag) I had a special mystery treat. On the white board is listed three or four options to earn the case. They choose an option of their liking, but they all end with me receiving the vast majority of the candy. Don't ask what happens to it after that. I'll never admit tell.

So here is the November 1, 2007 Deal, or No Deal.

First we are in accumulation mode...

...and accumulate they do!


Here is the final haul, with very heavy bags. Our neighbors are very generous, especially when a tiny little cow is in the group.



They chose option three, which gave them one piece of candy a day for the next fifteen days. I get to dispose of the rest in exchange for the precious "case." Oh, did I say it was a gift bag? Well, this year I couldn't find a gift bag big enough to hold it. I really couldn't!



So here we are, with the new Super Soakers (Arctic Blasts, of all things) and swim trunks. A plan is formulating. Suddenly a fortress appears.

The fortress needs defending.

Defending at all costs. Get back you filthy invaders!

Artillery, check!

Filthy invader, check!

Target. Site. Attack!

And attack!

And attack some more!

"I can't help you, you filthy invader."

"I'm much too busy being adorable."

The victory laps, er, swings.

And we're off to formulate a new plan. Who wants to be a bank robber today?

I think M chose the right weapon...no reload necessary!

Now, will someone please remind me about this November 1st post, with the Super Soakers, swim trunks, and plastic pools when I start complaining about the hottest day of the year next summer? I occasionally need to be reminded why I like living in the south.