I gots a cravin

I have been craving a date night. Maybe some people have their children and skip on outta date night. Maybe life changes and some don't take the time for a straight-up, old school, romantic, sexy date night. Hmmm, just saying that makes my eyebrows turn in. Brrrr, wha? That's just not gonna cut it round here.



I guess because The Chief and I dated for a whopping 7 years before we were married and then were married for 5 years before the babes made her debut has led to a different thought process on the date night. We've had a life full of dinners where we talk about our next dream vacation. Or the random Monday night with too many glasses across from each other at a table for two. And yep, life has a changed, man. We never had the set night of the week for the good old date, but be damned sure we always somehow, someway made time to have some sort of time away with adult conversation. It appears we've shifted gears around here and the focus isn't the next jet-set to Paris, but rather the question "do we have enough bottles made." Yep, it's steamy.

So I'm workin on a date night, although between Christmas parties and such, looks like we'll have to save this for sometime next year. Until then, here's a new kind of date. A Texas BBQ Date with my favorite darlings. Pretty sure the only one drooling over the lustfulness {fairly certain there is no such word} that brings is my brother. The Texas BBQ King.

While on our drive down south for the Thanksgiving holiday, we made a pit-stop at the famous Smitty's Market in Lockhart, Texas. And yes, afterwards we did, indeed, smell like a large barbecue pit. Even the tater tot.

I wish I could give you a screen shot of the texts that went back and forth between me and the brother detailing Texas BBQ etiquette. It was amusing, to say the least. He explained there is no asking for sauce. That's for Yankees. He said you order 1/2 lb. meat, some sausage and white bread. That's it. Then I made the mistake of asking if I should order sliced or chopped. For that, he did not respond. And to make it worse even said, "I'm not even responding to that."


I have been dying to hit the Texas Barbecue Loop. You see, foodies know there are about 4 really good, to.die.for spots for outstanding barbecue deep in the heart of Texas. And to clarify, this is no Rudy's, Colter's, Sonny Bryan's or Dicky's. No, no, this is the real deal.

Pretty sure this would fall into the LARGE HAZARD category in Dallas. A small child could walk directly into that fire. Guess if you grow-up 'round here you know to keep your ass back.

Check out this meat-a-sauraus. And colbeer for $2. Who could pass?

So this wasn't a smokin hot night at Fearings, but for now, it was a perfect date. A date for 3.

And for the record, we were trying to appear as little citified as possible. No bows, no frills, no lace. Just comfy clothes, by regular people trying to get our paws on some damn good bbq. Success. Even the Texas BBQ King would have been proud....until we looked down at our TOMS, grabbed our blackberries, put on our Ray-Ban's and loaded up in our luxury vehicle. Onward to the city. What can I say, we tried our best.

Bigger is Better, Right?

I swore I wouldn't put this child in ridiculously big bows. Hmmm, apparently we're on a major detour.
Happy Hump Day!

GAME DAY!

The Chief and I rolled out to Norman for a little gameday action this weekend. We were hopin to wreck Tech, and that we did! For those of you unfamiliar, Norman is in God's country. In it's truest sense. It's a lot of Baptist that say they don't hate or do anything un-Godly, but let me tell you...that's a lie. And, please, have faith in me...I'm a Catholic that's not judgin. Trust. I drink, swear and occasionally do things unbecoming of a lady. But, I have seen this with my own two eyes. Two problems with this projected perfect behavior: OSU and Texas. I'm certain there are some grown men that pray for serenity and patience when it comes to their thoughts during THE SEASON. Sometimes it works and sometimes it don't.



Inside Norman, Oklahoma is the greatest university, as far as I'm concerned. The University of Oklahoma. I had the most perfect college experience. I have lots of lifelong friends and wonderful memories from my days on campus. It's always a good time going back...pretending I'm still 20 and gettin my Campus Corner on. To hear the band play, drink colbeer, be with the husband and besties...nothin better for a fall Saturday.


So long as the tater tot gets into a good school and is happy that's all I ask. But...going to OU and pledging Theta would realllllly sweetin the deal. Just sayin. I can't swear I won't re-live the glory days on the lawn of her rent house. And I would be willing to bet some of her "aunties", uncle and real aunt would be right in the big middle of it too. Nothing like livin through your child...

Here's the scoop on Oklahoma. There are no professional sports teams. That means, every rich rancher, country bumpkin, alumi, college student and Dallas-ite shows up at the game. It's a total sight to see. There are beer bellies and barely dressed co-eds. The energy is unparalleled. I. LOVE. IT. We have season tickets and sadly, I haven't been in two years. The one game we tried to make last year was slashed by the Swine Flu post our Paris trip. This year, it was our first time away from the babes, and we were ready to roll. We dropped her with Mimi and Pops and were northbound 35 by 9:30 am! It was a fabulous gameday. We drove fast, listened to loud music and acted like kids that had just sneaked out from our parents' house.















Adrian Peterson is #28 for the Minnesota Vikings. He's also a Sooner. A lifetime celebrity in Norman. People dig that shit here.

And to sum it up, the best quote of the season, by none other than Brian Maynard. "We destroy fools in Norman." And that we do. OU 45, Tech 7.

Boomer.

Ga-lad that's over

Yeah, I know, I had all sorts of thoughts and aspirations about what I was posting on particular days. Well, life is still all outta whack and sometimes it just doesn't pan out. Doin the best I can, K!

I just wanted to update all that care on the tater tot and her latest and greatest. She was a champ during her shots. I swore I wouldn't be the kind of mom that cried, but I most def had a big crocodile tear in my eye. I think The Chief did too. What's so sad is that they have NO BLASTED CLUE what's about to happen. Worst part, the nurse that administered the shots was the same YOUNG, UNEXPERIENCED nurse that did Jules's heel prick TWO times when she was merely days old. I thought The Chief was going to come unglued when she walked in. All went well.

Julia is weighing 9 lbs 9 oz and plugging along just great! I can't believe the first day we showed up in there she was 5 lbs 7 oz. We've come along way, baby! Check out these cheekie cheeks. As you can see we're starting to wear black. It's slimming. I kid, I kid, I'm just about over the pink parade. I was never really on it, but had no choice. Thank goodness Gap has some dhar-ling black clothes out for the little ones. Very Parisian of them and just in time for the holidays.

This was Julia's first true outing. She got to lunch while her parents had a lovely meal and a couple glasses of adult bevies taking in a deep breath for making it 8 weeks. I must say, on night one we weren't sure we'd get here. For all of you that have paved this course before us, I now see why you can continue to go on to have more children. For those of you yet to hit this mark, just know if you can survive the first 8 weeks you begin to see the sun coming out from hiding behind the dark, black clouds. Cheers to learning every day as you go!

+This post is in no way meant to drag up argument or opinions on vaccinations. I had NO idea that vaccinations were as hot of a topic as breastfeeding or moreso. For the record, The Chief and I are doing the regularly scheduled vaccination plan because we feel that's the safest, best option for our family and our child.

Top-a-da-day-padna

That was a regularly used saying by my dad. Today marks 12 years since his death. I can hardly believe it's been that long...seems like yesterday.

Today's post is a diary entry of sorts, so skip on out if you're looking for the light-hearted.

So do you hate the date and dread it or is it just another day? I've struggled with that for quite some time. Eleven years to be exact. I saw Nate Berkus on Oprah once saying that we have control over whether or not to let the date bring sadness and depression. Nate lost his partner, Fernando, while vacationing in Sri Lanka. He was swept away by the tsunami in 2005. I would say he has the right to feel overwhelmed by sadness on the anniversary of his death. And, I'm sure he is, but maybe what he is saying has some validity. Sadly, I'm drawing from a day-time talk show celebrity to try and overcome the idea that the date holds so much power. Ridiculous or desperate? Not sure.

Some years I feel like I, also, have a legit right to just stay in bed and pull the covers up over my head. Some years I convince myself that my dad wouldn't want that, and I should honor his name by facing the day with gusto and strength, greeting friends with starched, dry-cleaned clothes and an ever giving tone in my voice.

This year as I sit and type and see a precious little red-head sleeping next to me, I am torn with emotion. I miss that man every day and especially this year with a perfect granddaughter he would adore. I have tried to fill that enormous, gaping hole with relationships with my father-in-law, step-father and uncle, and far from their fault, no one will ever replace or give me the same fulfillment as he did. No one gives the same "Penny for your thoughts?" question and genuinely wants to hear the answer.

In his last letter to me he indicated he would be watching from somewhere far, far away when the first red-headed granddaughter was born. I know he is, and he is so proud. When I see her face each day I know that God gave me her to learn from my father's mistakes and delight in the joy that she brings. I also know what happiness it brings me to see The Chief play such a wonderful father role in her life, exactly the way my dad did for me. There must be some organization to all the madness. A bigger, better picture of sorts.

So as I crawl through this day and hoping it goes by quickly I remind you all...hug your loved ones tightly. Very tightly. It can all be over in a blink of an eye. And the thing no one ever says is take care of yourself. It's as important as taking care of others.

Be still, my beating heart

Words prolly aren't necessary for this post.

Family that want any of these pictures, just let me know which one(s) and sizes, and I will get them for you.

Get it while the gettins good

So I told you I'd be doing a tip of sorts on Tuesdays, and I also wanted to try to bring you a little inspiration (if I was so inclined to find some myself), well, it's Wednesday, but I gotta little of both for ya.

My darling friend, Heather, has FINALLY launched a little holiday bidness. She is the Christmas decorating diva and makin a little profit has been a long time coming for her. Check-out her website to see about some precious trees, wreaths, holiday decorating, etc. If you've never experienced the Hayward Home at the holidays...you're missing out. It's a regular North Pole. Heather is Miss Merry Christmas and has a true knack for holiday decor.

HEATHER'S HOLIDAY HELPERS (click here for the link)

So, there's my tip this week, as well as my inspiration. I applaud a momma that is staying home to raise her babies and bringing in a little summin, summin on the side. Keeps the hubs happy and keeps her feeling like a contributor. I like it. Now, just need to find my own gig!

Elvis Spotting

I saw Elvis this weekend. Craziest thing, he had on white tube socks, red hair and a paci. Who knew!