Spinny

Look, this week is just kicking my hiney. I *know* intellectually that I am going to get into a routine with work and school and laundry and dinners (I finally cooked tonight after forcing my family to eat cereal and/or sandwiches for three days). I *know* in my BRAIN that this is all going to be ok.

But I'm still a little freaked out.

So let's talk about cute things tonight (all having to do with a certain 3-year-old in my house) and trust that, by this time next week I'll already be doing better. Yes. Believe it.

Scene: I am applying medicine to William's scraped knee.

Paige: Momma, does that medicine come from pigs?

Me: No honey, I don't think so.

Paige: Then why do they call it *oinkment*?

End scene. Cue laughter.

And finally, we tried on various dresses this morning to determine which one Paige will wear on Easter (hooray for "hammydowns"!). Paige narrowed the field to two based not on color or style or comfort, but on "spinnability".

Getting Things Off My Chest

I woke up this morning WAY before it was necessary... Which, these days, is rare for me. I *used* to be a morning sort of person. Well, that's not entirely true. Really I was a hopeless insomniac, so I got in the habit of rising early, you know, since I couldn't sleep anyway.

But every year that has gone by I've become more and more of a night owl. Mainly because I feel this huge sense of AHHHHH after being with my kids all day. Once their heads hit the pillow I finally feel free to do as I wish in the relative quiet.

But this morning was different. I tossed and turned all night just like in the olden days - the days before kids and before I stopped working. I woke up making to-do lists in my head and fretting about how I was going to get everything done.

I remember that feeling. It came right back after 8 years.

I started my new job on Monday. My training involved me meeting an associate in a neighboring town at 8:30am. Which meant setting an alarm (something I rarely do these days - the children are my alarm clock.) The job also meant driving in rush-hour traffic. I'd forgotten how many people there really are! I forgot that I do my driving and shopping and various other things when 90% of the world is working. I rarely venture out during rush hour. And I never go to the grocery store or mall on the weekend. Why would I?

But after 8 years I'd sort of forgotten how the rest if the world operates. And I'd forgotten how *I* operate in it. I think all these years if hermitage have made me weary of crowds and traffic and rushrushrushing.

I haven't been in a hurry for years. You can't be with small children. Whether you like it or not, you WILL slow down. Foot-long legs can only go so fast. And there are always laces to tie and puddles to stomp in. In fact, I have, on many occasions, been required to stop and smell the roses. Literally.

So I woke this morning with a list running through my head, and a melancholy feeling in my heart. Wondering if I can somehow pencil '"rose-smelling" into an already packed schedule. And wondering if I can do this - this working and mothering and homeschooling- and do it well. Both for myself, my family, and now this new employer.

And then I remember that women do this every day. On an even greater scale. And I tell myself to get some perspective and grow a tougher skin.

And then I roll out of bed and start making that list. And on the list among all the other things is "call the dermatologist", and since I don't have all the time in the world to procrastinate such a call (what with the long list and all) I make the call first thing and discover that they can see me in just a few hours. I feel irritated that this will add one more thing to an impossibly long day. But I go. I drag the poor children with me with promises of unlimited time with the iPad while we're in the waiting room.

And the doctor takes one look at the "suspicious mole" my mother hounded me about on Sunday and says "that is cancer". And then he says "this down here is cancer too". And all off a sudden growing a thicker skin takes on a whole new meaning. He speaks of "removal" and follow-up appointments to "check the margins".

I found myself thinking how grateful I was that I had a list a mile long this morning. That I was busy enough to Just Do It.

Maybe having a job isn't such a bad idea.

We Made It!

Neighbor Susan invited us over for dinner this evening (steaks! potatoes! heaven!). Although "invited us over" is a bit of a loose statement since our families have pretty much spent every moment of Spring Break together. In fact, while Susan's potatoes were baking, she wandered over with her cocktail and lounged with me on my back patio while all four of our children tried to maim each other on the trampoline (he fact that the trampoline is 5 years old and has not yet sent someone
to the ER is nothing short of a miracle, y'all).

Susan then went back home to stir the potatoes while I gathered up my green beans and walked over to HER house. The way our yards connect we can see my trampoline just as easily from her house. Which means we can leave the children be when we mommies and daddies wander back and forth between houses. It's the perfect setup.

This evening, upon arriving at her house, Susan poured me a glass of prosecco and proposed a toast. "To us, for surviving another Spring Break, and to all the Oklahoma City Public School moms."

You see, OKCPS has a TWO WEEK spring break. Bless their souls.

They Really *Do* Say the Darndest Things

the worms are bitin'!

My kids are at an age right now where they are saying HILARIOUS things all the time.  UNINTENTIONALLY.  It happens so often that I'm losing track.  William (a wizened 7 year old) does it most when he is explaining The Way Things Work to his little sister. 

Example: We're driving along when I hear Paige ask William what happens to food once you swallow it.  He immediately answered in the most deadpan way "It turns into throwup first, then later it turns into poop." 

Then there's Paige.  Paige believes, at 3 years old, that she Knows Everything.  And she wants nothing more than to exclaim (!) her knowledge.  Yesterday, she ran into the house from the backyard hollering me for me to COME! NOW! LOOK!  She wanted to show me the tree in our backyard with blooms on it.  "Mommy I KNOW how those flowers got there!  THE RAIN POURED THEM ON!"  Apparently telling her the rain helps the flowers grow was translated in her brain a bit differently than I'd intended.

And then there was the time last weekend when she tried her hand at fishing.  She'd watched her brother and her dad casting and reeling, casting and reeling all morning.  When Dave finally let her try it herself, she reeled in the line and yelled "DADDY! We caught a worm!"

Which is, sadly, all we caught that weekend.

The Notebook

my "office"

I did not leave the house today except to drive to the bank.  And I did THAT while wearing my pajamas and slippers.  "What if you'd been in an accident" is what you're thinking, and do you  know what I say to you? I LIVE ON THE EDGE. Proof: my children were also wearing pajamas WITH NO SHOES.  None.  If we'd run out of gas they would have had to walk BAREFOOT to the nearest gas station.

I know.  You're clutching your pearls in horror, aren't you?

I was determined to stay in my pajamas today.  Determined.  I just HAD to have a day at home.  We left town last Friday and returned mid-afternoon on Monday, and yet, as of this morning I STILL HADN'T UNPACKED.  What the heck, ME?  I was going crazy.  The house was filthy, the laundry was clean but not put away, and there were not so much dust bunnies as there were dust PONIES blowing around my floors.  I needed a day at home to settle back in.

I also stayed home so that I could do my first WORK RELATED phone call.  I know! WORK RELATED.  Can you believe?  People with JOBS have WORK RELATED phone calls.  DUDE!

And I need to admit something to you - yesterday when I was at Target, I bought myself a fancy 3-ring binder, some page-protectors, and a matching spiral notebook... AS IF I'M GOING TO START 9TH GRADE ON MONDAY instead of a grown-up job.  But I've always found that a nice new set of office supplies really do make me feel more prepared.  In my mind I think "how could someone with THIS notebook POSSIBLY fail at anything?".

don't they just scream "success"?

Skeerd.

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I start my job on Monday, and I'm not going to lie to you, I'm a little scared. 

Never before have I tried to manage my work life from home.  How does one motivate?  I'm wondering if work-from-home happens better when you, say, block out a specific time each day to work, and even maybe dress up and put on some mascara.  You know, to sort of "set the work mood". 

Even as I type that, I'm thinking "oh please, I'm plenty productive in my yoga pants".  But then I immediately think "OH MY GOSH I WILL NEVER WEAR ANYTHING BUT YOGA PANTS EVER AGAIN!" Because WHY WOULD I - I WORK FROM HOME!  I will turn into that woman who shows up to a cocktail party in a nice windsuit with matching Reeboks.  You know, because it's comfortable.  It'll be my "dressy" windsuit, the bedazzled one!

Outside of wardrobe issues, I'm also a bit nervous about how to accomplish work while also managing our home and educating my children.  I mean, I consider myself an EXCELLENT multitasker, but still.  What if I can't?

What if I fail? What if I disappoint someone?  Like my boss.  Or worse, myself.

Do you have words of wisdom?  Should I stock up on some nice bedazzled windsuits?



ps - You asked what I'm going to be doing at my new job.  And the answer is: I don't think I'm completely sure (I'll know more when I'm trained on Monday).  I know it will be some marketing, some writing, and some basic administrative stuff.

Get Comfortable

It's spring break!  I went on a trip! In a minute, you're going to have to look at ALL of the pictures.

You've now been warned.

Since becoming a mother, spring break has mostly consisted of me staring at my child/children wondering how we will all cope with ALL THE TOGETHERNESS for ten whole days.  For years I've scoffed at the notion of a "break".  I mean, who are these people kidding?  Oh, yeah, the KIDS are on a break, and the TEACHERS are on a break, BUT WHEN IS MOMMY'S BREAK? Huh?

I say (yell!) all this to say, that this year? Finally? I have enjoyed spring break.  IT ONLY TOOK EIGHT YEARS.  You see, now my children are old enough that I no longer have to keep a watchful eye on them every second of the day.  They can wander upstairs for long periods of time and I do not worry that they are swallowing things or climbing on things or falling or whathaveyou. 

In fact, just the other day I went upstairs to check on them, and I discovered my children playing a board game WITHOUT ME.  This? This was a day I thought might never come.  A day when mommy did not have to sit on the floor pretending to enjoy Candyland.  Hark! Let the angels sing!

So this spring break we took a little trip to our friends' lake house.  They were kind enough to hand us the keys and say "go enjoy yourselves". So that's just what we did. 

The house was situated in a little cove on a super quiet street.  There was a playground, a tennis court, a fishing dock, and tons and tons of clover (we found... wait for it... THIRTY SEVEN four-leaf clovers).  Our days consisted of eating, biking, fishing, eating, napping, playing, eating, tennis, and finally eating.

It was heaven.

Also? There was no WiFi and spotty cell-phone coverage (GASP! HORROR!).  I won't lie, I had a few twitches the first day when I was coming down from my Internet Addiction, but by the end of our trip, I was clean and I hadn't felt that clear-headed since sometime in the 1990's.

So, without further ado, here are the eleventy-bajillion photos I took.  None of which were taken with my Very Expensive Fancy Camera, because why would I drag that thing around when I have my iPhone? (Duh).

p.s. I'll be back tomorrow to answer all of your questions about my new job.  Sorry to leave you hanging while I was away.  Oops!

Working Girl

mmmm. cupcake prosecco.

Well, you people really put my "life altering news" into perspective.  I went and got myself a job after 8 years of stay-at-home mommyhood.  I thought that was life altering stuff! That is, until you people suggested I could be having a third baby.

OH MY GOODNESS NOOOOO!

Thank you for making going back to work seem EASY and SIMPLE in comparison.

It had been 10 years since I'd updated my resume.  TEN YEARS.  In 2002 we rode our dinosaurs to work by candlelight!  We churned our own butter and sewed our own clothes.  MTV still played MUSIC, for crying out loud. And? AND I COULD STILL WEAR A BIKINI. 

Oh how times have changed.

It had also been 10 years since I'd been on an interview.  And this time around I had to interview THREE times with three different people before I was hired.  My heart!  It was all alflutter! My nerves! My how they jangled!

My new position will allow me to work mostly from home (about 15 hours), which means I will still be able to homeschool my boy two days per week.  That part I'm not worried about.  It's the other stuff, you know, like bathing and eating and cleaning the house that I wonder about.  How will I fit it all in?  Will my children turn to zombies because I dump them in front of Sponge Bob all day while I work? (Nothing would make them happier than SpongeBob-induced zombiedom, by the way).

I am excited and nervous and worried and thrilled and nostalgic and proud and honestly, a little tired.

Do you work from home?  With kids? HOW? Give me your words of wisdom.


ps - Susan met me on the front porch with prosecco when I got home from my interview yesterday.  She is just... just... words escape me.  You cannot possibly have a better neighbor than I do.

pps - The clues from yesterday? 10 years since my last interview. I had 3 of them. I will work 15 hours/week.

Things Happened.

this could be a clue! or maybe not! it's so tricky!

Uh, *things* happened today.  Life altering things. 

At least I think they did. I think life altering things happened. But I don't have confirmation so I cannot in good conscience share the things until the things are verified.

Could I BE any more vague? 

So let's have a guessing party!  Can you guess my thing?  (Those of you who know me in real life are excluded from the game.  That's CHEATING!)

Here are the clues:

10 years.
3 times.
15 hours.

Sprung

Spring is here. And daylight savings time means that there's still enough light after dinner for a trip to the golf course.

Dave says he wants his ashes spread here someday. He knows we're making his favorite memories.

She's Baaaaack

That Mom.  She's back.

WAIT! I can explain!

At the beginning of the school year I was contacted by William's homeroom mom about being the school-wide teacher appreciation, uh, person.

Meaning, once per month I would be required to provide snacks for the teachers during their staff meeting and I was also to provide a little gift and a heartfelt note of thanks for all the hard work they do for our children. Which is adorable. I mean how cute is this school?

But being the sort if person that I am, I felt this HUGE amount of pressure to do a good job. I mean, if I was going to be in charge of teacher appreciation, then I was going to appreciate the HECK out of those teachers! I was going to BLOW THEIR MINDS with my appreciation!

Except the school gave me a budget of around $30 *total*. Folks, that's not a lot of dollars for appreciating. (In all fairness, it's a very small school... Only nine teachers!).

So, being a "That Mom" in training, I turned to my trusty friend Pinterest. God bless those crafty moms who have gone before me. And God bless those other cheaters who *pinned* the crafty moms before me.

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then I am REALLY flattering someone today.

Behold, my shamelessly plagiarized teacher gifts for this month.

hello. we're adorable.

For $3 each, I was able to buy pretty little pots of indoor begonias.  I wrapped them in cellophane and tied them with numbered "ruler" tape.  The little signs say "Thank you for helping us grow".   I felt pretty smug when I dropped them off.  Until I remembered that none of it was really MY idea.

And now I have to find something to do NEXT month.  And the month after THAT.

Yipe! Any suggestions?

You Cannot Defeat a Princess

Can you and I still be friends if I admit to you that I hate princesses.  All things princess?  All of it?  Will you still love me if I say that little girl princess movies make me want to vomit and spit and scream?

I know.  I'm a monster.

Because what's the harm, right?  It's just a movie!  Little girls don't really understand the overall theme is weakness and that the message is: be pretty enough and the man will come rescue you!  I know!  I realize on some base level we women would all love a knight in shining armor - even IF we can rescue ourselves, there IS something about a strong man on a horse arriving in the nick of time that really DOES make all of us weak in the knees.  I KNOW THIS.

And yet I hate princesses all the same.

Oh don't worry.  We own a couple of princess movies.  Paige loves Snow White (wherein the queen has the princess killed because she's PRETTIER, and lo! a prince comes along and saves her AND THEY GET MARRIED after having spoken just once! But I'm not bitter AT ALL! NO! LIGHTEN UP RITA OMG!).  We also have a hand-me-down (Hammydown!) copy of Beauty and the Beast which Paige has watched a handful of times.  And she liked it very much.  Mainly because of the singing. 

What I'm trying to tell you is: I realize I'm am excessively bitter and ridiculous about princesses and therefore do not try to actively repress my daughter's inner princess (even though even TYPING the words 'inner princess' make me want to poke out my eye with a dull pencil).  Paige also owns several princess dresses which she regularly wears while running around outside pelting her brother with a light saber.  Because Paige desires to look pretty WHILE dominating her brother. 

I tell you all of this so that you will understand my, uh, dismay, when I arrived home from book club this morning to find that my husband had snuck away taken Paige to the store to buy her a new bicycle.  And I should go ahead and tell you that my husband is the cliche' father-to-a-daughter.  He is completely and totally wrapped around her finger.  I will regularly catch her say, eating candy at 7am, and when I question Dave about it he will simply say "but she wanted it".  As if he is unable to refuse her every whim.  It is both maddening and completely adorable.  Although I do not wish to think about what this will mean for her teenage years ("But DADDY said I could go to Aruba for spring break!"). 

So the bike.  To hear Dave tell it, "she had her heart set on this one".  "This one" being The Bike Where Princesses Go to Die.  There are no sparkles, hearts, or glitters left in the entire earth BECAUSE THEY ALL RESIDE ON THIS BIKE.  The pedals? ARE IN THE SHAPE OF FLOWERS.  The wheels are in the shape of hearts.  Handlebars? Hearts.  Pink ones.  And then there are numerous princess heads adorning the chain guard, seat, and THE PURSE ATTACHED TO THE FRONT (Yes, you heard me, the bike came with a purse). There are also sparkly streamers dangling from the handlebars.

In other words, it's the girliest princess-y-est bike ever made.  If a boy even stands NEAR this bike his, ahem, boy parts will simply drop off and fall to the ground. 

behold the cycling travesty

I stood staring at it in amazement (What a feat of engineering! How DID they cram all those princesses on ONE bike?).  But it was hard to deny that Paige was thrilled.  And Dave was thrilled. 

So of course I am thrilled as well.

Or at least I was.  Until I saw THIS.

yes.  it says "glitter and glow'

OMGAAAAH, really? GLITTER AND GLOW?  I think I need to lie down.

I Did Not Plan This Post

So, hey, it just so happens that it's Friday night and I want to write about the television series Friday Night Lights.  And would you believe me if I told you I did this on accident?  I did not MEAN to write about this on Friday night.  No seriously!

Look, we all know my blog posts are off the cuff.  Sometimes I sit down to write and my fingers lead me in an entirely different direction than my brain thought we were going.  My fingers are the boss of me!  Or at least of this blog.

No where was I? Oh. Right.  Friday Night Lights.  It turns out that I resemble one of the leading ladies on the show.  Or at least that's what I'm told.  First Shannon mentioned it, then while I was standing in line for the restroom last evening with a slew of women (why are there always lines at the ladies room? WHY?) and these women all began remarking that I look like some gal from Friday Night Lights.

But I wouldn't know, because I have never one time watched the show.  Not because I am above becoming immersed in a television series, but I suppose I just haven't made the time for this particular series. Which is sad, because apparently my doppelganger has been starring in the show for years.

Out of curiosity I Googled "Friday Night Lights Cast Members" and after perusing IMDB, I am assuming everyone is referring to Connie Britton.  She has reddish, longish hair like mine.  And also some pretty serious forehead wrinkles - IT'S AS IF WE WERE SEPARATED AT BIRTH. 

See for yourself:

can  you tell which one is me and which one is my twin sister connie?

Well, ok, except for the part where she is shorter and much thinner than me.  Clearly I was the "beefy twin", while she was the "weak, failure-to-thrive" twin.  Bless her.  I'm so glad she survived those weeks in the NICU and went on to be a famous actress, while her bulkier twin stayed back in Oklahoma to raise a family and write senseless drivel on the Internet on a Friday night about Friday Night Lights.

Again, I swear to you this was an accident.

Now.  Do you have a famous twin acting in Hollywood?  Really?  Who?  Do tell.

Connected

Back when my daddy was alive, we would meet every week for lunch.  We had a designated day (Wednesday) and time (11:30a "to beat the crowds"), which meant that we never really had to speak between lunch dates.  Now, I would occasionally call if I had news to report or questions to ask that couldn't possibly wait until our next lunch, but mostly we would save up our news for our 90 minute face-to-face each week.

This whole weekly lunch thing was dad's idea.  I don't think he really liked talking on the phone, plus he liked the structure - knowing he'd be able to hug my neck every single week - and he liked that he didn't have to remember to plan/set up our meetings.  And frankly, I liked it too.  Everyone at my office knew not to schedule lunch meetings on Wednesdays because I was guaranteed to be gone.

My dad did this same setup with my Aunt Susie (his big sister).  Their designated day was Friday.  Same thing.  11:30am to beat the crowds. 

My weekly lunch dates with dad went on for something like 8 years.  The week he died, I saw him for our regularly scheduled Wednesday lunch, and he was gone the following Friday morning.  I have always loved that I saw him that Wednesday.  In fact, I got all sentimental at that final lunch and thanked him for everything he'd done for me (as if I'd somehow KNOWN this was my last chance to talk to him alive).

Two weeks after he died, I called my Aunt Susie and told her WE should start doing weekly lunches.  That was in 2005.  We're still meeting every week.  Every Monday you will find us at a restaurant halfway between her office and my home.  We rarely talk in-between.  We save up our news for Monday.

So this past Monday night, my brother called out of the blue and asked if I could meet him for a cocktail.  Dave put the kids to bed while I dashed off to spend the evening with Russ.  We sat on a bar stool and visited for two hours.  And at the end of the evening, Russ said "we should do this every Monday night!"

yes. i know my brother is very handsome. and single!

And of course I agreed.  Because in my family, it seems a weekly scheduled date is the way we stay connected.  

Do you do this?  Weekly pre-planned meetings or phone calls? How do you keep in touch with your loved ones? 

Melting!

Oh my goodness, Internet.  I really wish you could come over here and spend some time with my children.  They are going through the SWEETEST SWEETEST SWEETEST phase right now.  And I realize you just vomited right there on your keyboard, because REALLY?

Yes, really. 

For instance, the last several times I've taken William with me to the grocery store he has INSISTED on carrying ALL of the grocery bags to the car for me.  Why? Because his father told him that Boy Scouts must perform acts of service and kindness.  And William took this to mean that his mother can no longer carry her own groceries.

.

OMG could you just DIE at the cuteness?  I mean just LOOK at him lugging those bags!  Look at the circumference of his wee little 7 year old arms!  They are THINNER THAN BROOM HANDLES, and yet he HEAVES those bags to the car.

I can't stand it.  My heart! Melting!

And then Paige is just your typical 3 year old - always saying cute things and randomly demanding kisses while exclaiming that I am "the very best mommy in the whole wide Earth". 

Three is my favorite age.  Oh how I will mourn when she turns four.

Today she ran inside and presented me with a single bloom from a Bradford Pear tree.  She insisted I put it in water (which I did because how could I not?).  Then she ran back outside to "find mommy another beautiful flower".

.

And I am going to do my very best to remember all of this sweetness tomorrow when we're running late for school and NO ONE CAN FIND THEIR SHOES (why does this happen every time we leave the house? WHYYYYY?).

In Case of Emergency

For all you new parents out there, I would like to present the following to you.  Both to inform and also to warn.

You see, someday you will be driving around in a car that is Sensible and Safe.  It will be littered with snot-filled tissues, dessicated cheerios and sticky Mystery Puddles.  You will occasionally shake your head and wonder how you have come to live like this. 

But it will get worse before it gets better. 

Because some day soon you will also pat yourself on the back for being brilliant enough to drive around with A TOILET IN YOUR CAR. 

yes. you heard me. a potty.  in the car.

You will actually FEEL SMUG when your children, 4 seconds after arriving at a park without restroom facilities, beg to use the potty.  You will feel smug, because you will simply open your hatch back and let them befoul your very vehicle. 

.

I know you think I'm lying.  But it's the truth.

You will consider yourself a Mothering Genius when you simply line the toilet with 1) a mini trash bag so that you can dispose of the, er, specimen.  Then you will use your 2) wipes, followed by a quick 3) hand cleaning.  You will even travel with a spare pair of 4) tiny panties because you just never know.

Consider yourself warned.

ps. You may also find yourself trying to use this potty (which is roughly the diameter of a salad plate) on an extended road trip.  You will rationalize that it is better than squatting on the side of the road.  That is your story and you're sticking to it. *ahem*

We Should Work for the Chamber of Commerce!

.

Cousin Jenny and her husband Scott came to visit this weekend.  Until Friday, we've always socialized at various family events which means they've never actually been to our home.  In fact, they'd never been to Oklahoma City before.

Oh, and I should mention Jenny and Scott are 1) YOUNG and 2) from AUSTIN by way of SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 

So, um, Dave and I were a bit worried that our little city would do nothing but disappoint them.  I mean, it *is* Oklahoma, after all. How can we possibly compare to a hip town like Austin, much less SoCal.  Yeesh! 

But I ended up being so proud of our little city.  Things are really changing around here, and we're starting to shine!

Last week I polled my trusty Twitter council and managed to put together a weekend full of (what we hope were) fantastic Oklahoma City attractions.  I must say, it helped that Scott is an architect and therefore appreciated some of the new construction going on in OKC.

Here's what we crammed into a 2 day trip:

1) Tour of downtown followed by bowling at trendy Red Pin in Bricktown.
2) Dinner at Cheevers
3) Dessert at Nonna's Purple Bar downtown.
4) Breakfast at home (where Scott finally showed us how to make pancakes properly).
5) Architectural tour of the Chesapeake campus.
6) Lunch at Cafe 501
7) Shopping Classen Curve.
8) Dessert at Green Goodies (mmmmm, cupcakes and coffee!).
9) Dinner at home (steaks on the grill with the neighbors)
10) Sunday breakfast at Pops in Arcadia

We're sad we  missed the Chihuly exhibit at the Oklahoma Museum of Art, but we didn't want to drag the children through the museum.

What did we miss?  Any suggestions for next time?


p.s.
William introduced Jenny to Angry Birds.  I'm certain she'll never be the same.

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Sudafed + Champane = Smart!

designers throw the best parties

So, I had a nasty cold over the weekend.  And yet I managed to rally in time to attend Rachel's Oscar party.  Because everyone knows 3 glasses of champagne mix SO WELL with cold medicine.

*ahem*

The party was SO MUCH FUN. 

I took tons of photos, all of which fail to show the magnificence of the decorations and guests.  Instead, head over to Rachel's site.  Prepare to ooooh and aaaaahh.