I Am Officially a Big Girl.

I traded my Mercedes for an SUV this week. I did it. I hate to sound shallow, but it tugged at me a little bit. But I put the safety of my family before looking cool while crawling through the line at Starbucks. As heart-wrenching as it was, it made me think of all the things that define you as an adult. Is it the music you listen to? But I still crank my Jay-Z and Rhi-Rhi and sing at strangers on I-95...do mature people do that? Is it the political and current events journals you subscribe to? Cuz I still get hypnotized in the grocery line by a glossy US Weekly cover...who doesn't? Is it the conversations you have with your adult friends? Because my friends and I straight up talk about Britney's weight fluctuations. Is it the books you read? Are you there Vodka? It's Me...Chelsea is currently on my nightstand. Discuss. Is it the furniture you have? Brian soooo has a foosball table where our formal dining area should be.

So, how do you know? Do you wake up one day and have it all click? I think that it's in the choices you make. No, work friend, I will not go have margaritas after school, Day Care closes at 6.

All kidding aside, I think when I realized I had become an adult was when I realized myself and Brian were currently all she had. We were the ones making the decisions. We were the ones shaping how her life would be. Scary, yes. But, so much fun.

We went pumpkin hunting last Sunday; ironically, just like my friend Hollie did recently. I looked at her pictures and there is one of her beautiful girl that looks almost identical to one we took of Rylee. It made me think back to the silly girls Hollie and I were in college. We ran around without a care in the world, I'm sure, praying to never get old. Now, looking at those girls, it actually feels good. We have come a long way from calling HSN late into the night, demanding diamondique bracelets. We are now ahem...mature.

So, in that vain, here is my most recent favorite picture of the precious doll that is Rylee. We almost needed pull-ups ourselves when she walked too close to the TV. Much better than a C-Class...but still one day...

She's phoning back to the mother ship.

Ugh. I am SO over pumpkins.

This is Why I Love Them...

Where's Rylee?
Love how Daddy is oblivious
to Rylee's lack of air supply......

Lindsay, Paris, Miley...move

over, there is a new fashionista in town...

her flair for the dramatic is overwhelming...

Brian on a bicycle built for two...........

You've still got it, honey

There's a Monkey in Time-Out

Ummm...how hilarious is this? Last Sunday, Brian and I decided to make a day of it and go get Rylee's Halloween costume. We had planned to go and try them on at a few places and then go to Coldstone Creamery for a nice little night cap. Well, we hit up Old Navy and found the most rib-splitting costumes. I mean, how can you resist a two-year-old dressed like a skunk? Kind of ironic...considering what they already produce down there. We proceeded to pick out a few and all three of us on Team Neener went to the dressing room, generating looks from every Community College student with a headset who was doing "dressing room recovery."

Well, Brian and I could not stop laughing and you could probably hear our giggles ringing from the exposed warehouse rafters. The bellies on the costumes poked waaaaaay out and she looked like a Hershey's Kiss in every single outfit and the princess decided on the monkey ensemble complete with banana in her pocket. Yes, by the way, she is happy to see you. Well, she was as happy as a clam with her new purchase and, as promised, we had ice cream and sprinkles and went on to our home.

Of course, when we got home, Daddy and I whipped out our cameras and forced the little darling into her outfit for a fashion photoshoot. Rylee was not happy with us. It was all well and good until she tried to kick her Daddy, so then, we had to march right into time-out. People, you haven't lived until you have seen your two-year-old sitting in a red crayon themed time-out chair, kicking her bed, mitts folded, bottom-lip out, in a straight up monkey get up. I kept having to leave the room and laugh into a pillow. Imagine those big paw/feet trying to kick her bed and those little hands/mittens crossed over her chest in a huff.

Costume complete with fake banana from Old Navy: $15

Ice Cream for the Fam at Coldstone: $17

Trying to discipline a primate without peeing your pants: Priceless.

What Ever Happened?

OK girls, tonight I could not sleep and was blessed with my dear Carrie Bradshaw and friends on my television set. My absolute favorite all time show...need I mention it? Is it trite at this point? But, in my early, mid, even late twenties, my girlfriends and I embodied this. They were my end all be all. Now, with families, boyfriends in law school, and jobs that take us here and there, I feel like I have lost it. Is this normal? I will not stand for it. No matter what "real life" is supposed to be.


Don't get me wrong. Brian is my best friend. We have a wonderful time together. But, girls need girls. No, not in the Girls Gone Wild way. Last weekend I cried while Brian was at a bachelor party. Real tears. Not because I was worried about strippers on his lap. Because I missed MY friends and wanted to be with them.


As women, I think we need to take a stand. So many of us watched this show, went to the movie, drank the ubiquitous Cosmos, and vowed to always be BFF's. Now, let's put our money where our mouth is. Our sanity depends on laughter, memories, and most importantly, friendship.


PS-This is coming from a true Charlotte, who also thinks carnations are the filler flowers.

Just When...

Just when I thought I was having a yucky day, little things like this make me laugh. Don't hate, she is just trying to be like her Mo. Life has a funny way of not letting things stay too serious for too long. It's like when my principal called us in to tell us we were losing a fourth grade teacher and her class would be dispersed among all of ours. Oh, I freaked. I cried. I complained. I got angry. For all of you teachers out there...I was irate, irritable, morose AND melancholy. But, I had to make a decision. I realized that I had the choice. I could choose to be angry, irate, blah, blah, blah. OR, I could choose to put on my big girl panties and realize that now, I would have 6 really awesome kids to welcome into the fold. Not only would I have six more faces peeking through my window waaaaaaay to early in the a.m., but I would also have six more voices to hear laugh when crazy Ms. B. is acting silly again. Yes, it is a bit rank on PE days, it takes us forever to take a bathroom break (I am so mean, I race the boys vs. the girls now), and our check out line in the Media Center wraps around the first grade fiction section, but hey, we are a family.

I came to realize that sometimes I can focus on what I think I can't do rather than jumping in and just getting my toes wet. Take Rylee up there for example. I thought I would never be a mother. No way, no how. I wasn't birthin' no babies. And now, she is here, in my life and I smile from ear to ear when I see her Daddy pulling into the driveway with her in the backseat, waving packets of crackers (I never knew they were baby crack) and her Dora the Explorer blanket.

I think this epiphany (Ooohhh if I do say so myself) hit me the other day when I was telling my new friend Jody my life story of late. She looked at me, I think a little with disbelief, and was shocked with how well adjusted I am (ahem, she is only 23...gag). I was a little impressed with myself, but I thought, hmmm...I made the choice. I could have wallowed in it, but I moved on and looked for greener pastures. And here they are. Both with goofy grins, but only one with oversized sunglasses on her face. Payless by the way. I KNOW! I couldn't believe it either.

Wedding Dress Blues...

This is my wedding dress. This, of course, is not me in it. My eyes are not that cat-like and I don't have those sweet boxes to hold me up all day. This has been a source of contention with me lately. I began my search one afternoon when Brian was working. I had cleaned all I could, watched everything on my DVR, and everything at my place of worship, Target, had been picked through. I decided it was time to begin my quest for my wedding dress. Now, I know what you are thinking. "Girl, where was your mother? Where was your sister, best friend, and all of your closest cousins?" Well, this is me. I have to do everything the moment I think of it, much like my future step-daughter. She gets a fee pass, though. She is two. I, on the other hand, get stiffed. How you ask? Just wait. This is straight up out of People's Court.

After being ignored at one shop, and crying in the car to my Mama, I almost gave up the fight. In a fit of tears (and in the Super Target's parking lot...makes me feel safe) I Googled wedding dress shops in the area. Fighting back the ugly cry, I dialed up the first one on the list. The lady's voice on the other end was like honey. "Sweetie, are you crying? You get here right now." Like one of my fourth graders after being caught running in the bus loop, I tucked my tail and obeyed. Within minutes my car was parking in front of this quaint boutique. It was the epitome of precious. Wood floors, crystal chandeleir. You could even make appointments and you and all your besties could shut the store down and have yourselves a little sip and try on dresses. To put it bluntly, dears, I was in love. VA heaven. I gazed at the perfect, white wedding dresses all lined up on the wall, and like a jilted ex-boyfriend at a bar, I advised the shop girl to "Keep 'em coming." I eventually met up with this little number above. The other wedding shop was a distant memory. I fell in love... it was perfect for my beach wedding. I called my mother, vowed to send her pictures, and paid the deposit, which was half of the dress.

Now, I never have pretended to be stereotypical. Yes, I was in a sorority. Yes, dears, I wore ribbons in my hair. Ahem, gag, not my best fashion moment. BUT, I never laid awake at night with stars in my eyes and dreamt of my wedding. I was too busy chasing after my friend's earrings and lost black olives (wink, wink, nudge, Hollie). So, you must understand that when I ordered the dress in February, I got lost in teaching, my family, and just life. However, whenever I had the chance I would show off my dress. Not to mention the beAUtiful shoes and earrings I also purchased while in my "I love this boutique can I move in?" haze.

Well, imagine my surprise the weekend after Labor Day when my friend, Marissa called to tell me that the boutique had CLOSED DOWN! Yes. You heard it. As in, snuck-out-in-the-middle-of-the-night-so-we-don't-get-evicted closed down. As in, never-ordered-my-dress-and-took-off-with-my-deposit closed down. I almost vomited all over my darling little Blackberry that had led me there. Fortuneately, my super-hero friend, Amanda, had an aunt who owns a dress shop around the corner and she hooked me up in no time...veil and a free week of tanning to boot.

Now, she was the sweetest lady. I mean, she gave me the low-down on everyone in the wedding biz. I felt so important and "in-the-know". I thought she would ask me to be her partner and we would start our own reality wedding show on Lifetime. Of course, I would be front and center, and tearily, I would relay of how we met...all because of the dress. Well, sometime during this little love fest, she put the contract down on the counter in front of me. Wha? Contract? Signing over the TV rights so soon? Then, she lays it on. "Now this here says in order to get the size you want, you're going to have to lose three inches from your waist. It shouldn't be too hard." Crash. That was me falling back down to Humble Town.

Now, I ask you, shouldn't this be the sweetest, most momentous purchase in your life? It's things like this that let me know that my life will never be normal. Oh well...I should have known something was up in that first shop. As soon as we walked in, Rylee said, "Eww, Mo. Stinky." Out of the mouths of babes.

PS-Here are my earrings and shoes. If you are like me, you stopped reading at that point and just wanted to know what they looked like.

Under the Influence...

So, I have been persuaded, at the urging of my friend Hollie, to start this blog. After relaying to her my many adventures lately, she told me that this might be a good idea. So thank you, Hollie. I was also told, in the same day, that I should write a book chronicling all of my ups and downs. But, a memoir at 29 seemed a little pretentious, so here I am. I am currently planning my wedding to a fetching man who has a two-almost-three year old. I never thought I wanted to have children, but here I am, as happy as can be. The little Rylee-boogie is a laugh a minute and she lights up my day, especially when she is picking her nose and screaming at our cat, Daisy, who she refuses to call anything but, "Kitty-Cat". Her Daddy is pretty cute, too.

I am a fourth-grade teacher with 26 students (is that legal?) and each day, if we get through Reading, Writing, Math, and Lunch without blood, tears, or any other bodily fluid, we are pretty alright. They are my family away from home and no one can tell a knock-knock joke with such feeling like a ten-year old.

The Florida Gators and I are continuing our tumultuous relationship. They tend to lead me on and get me all excited with a promising future, and then, just like that, they break my heart. I tend to think I will keep going back, though. They are sure snazzy dressers.

I am just a small-town girl trying to be an adult. I have come to the conclusion that I can no longer spend my paychecks on Louis purses and Gucci shoes. Target, Old Navy, and Forever 21 have replaced my Sak's, Nordstrom's, and Neiman's. Tear. However, the rewards that I get from building my home, new family, and life are far greater than the ooohs and aaahhs I recieved for my latest Nanette LePore ensemble. Ohhh welll...there is still the chance to become independently wealthy....someone did tell Brian that he had the bone-structure of an actor. Hmmmm...I wonder if William Morris is hiring....