tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34609112008-05-11T23:46:17.140-04:00Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comBlogger223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-18900865217528066292008-05-09T15:46:00.007-04:002008-05-09T15:54:13.218-04:00

Mom is a Flower Mom is flexible as petals Warm as Anthers Sometimes Angry as Pollen But I still love her like a flower by my oldest son O, age 9 I Bet You Love I bet you love Rosemary More than me! Psyche! You love me More than anything. I bet you love olives More than me! Psyche! You love me More than anything you've seen. by The X-Man, age 7 Happy Mother's Day!

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-20150907708823261922008-05-08T07:36:00.005-04:002008-05-08T08:00:31.317-04:00

And I know this is true, because I just watched the segment of The Today Show with her and found myself thinking, "Hmmm...she's wearing a loose dress. Maybe she's pregnant!" Which is not to say she looks pregnant, but this does further my theory that, once you've had one kid, if you leave the house in anything that isn't skin tight, someone will ask if you're pregnant. Fun times. Heather

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-84982242202091141692008-05-06T13:57:00.007-04:002008-05-06T14:56:38.003-04:00

Every Sunday, my husband does a very nice thing*. While I go to Yoga, he hangs with the kids, cleans the kitchen and makes dinner. Yes, I am the luckiest woman alive. I think he'd admit, though, that there's an element of self-preservation in his actions. He knows I'll be a lot more fun to be around if I don't have to destroy the magic of Yoga by coming home to a messy kitchen and hungry kids.

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-51946483184181949502008-05-04T20:20:00.003-04:002008-05-04T20:28:56.783-04:00

"I know how to start a fire without using matches or a lighter," crowed the X-Man. And I, his proud mother, thought that after one night of forced camping with his reluctant, Westin-loving father (and a whole group of similarly citified fathers and children) he would be excited to tell me about rubbing two sticks together and all that. "Yeah, you just get a starter log and poke it with a stick.

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-6862796239648986662008-05-01T22:35:00.002-04:002008-05-02T10:18:02.817-04:00

I knew something was up. When I went to the drop-in nursery to pick up Baby J, they were all smiling at me in that way that says, "You are the worst mother, but we'll try to be sympathetic, because sure, it's hard. But, seriously? You are the worst one. And it's annoying." I guess I am the worst one, because I was in possession of three pair of the "pants of shame." You know those pants, the

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-68622809434827674392008-04-29T14:09:00.005-04:002008-04-29T16:14:16.245-04:00

Our friend S. was over last night and informed us that he could tell which of our children had last used the half bath (meant for guests, but my kids don't really get that), because there was a magazine opened to an article about Speedracer, an unflushed toilet and toilet paper on the floor. Aren't children precious? That's not as bad as what I found there earlier that day: a half finished cup of

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-71825655451779954642008-04-27T12:11:00.004-04:002008-04-27T12:18:32.161-04:00

The Daily Digress has a new look. Is the template change stressing anyone out? Please let me know if it hurts your eyes or is in any way irritating. Because I don't want to hurt anyone's eyes or be irritating*. Really! I'm in the process of starting a new blog, The Shop Tart, and I'm learning all sorts of nifty tricks. It's a little bit addictive, so I had to mess with The Digress. Let me know

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-41412601368827765322008-04-25T11:35:00.008-04:002008-04-27T12:10:10.095-04:00

So, this one time, I was in exercise class. The girl in front of me had a small hole, just right of center, in the back of her stretchy exercise pants. My first instinct was to tell her, but why go with your gut when you can over-analyze something to death? Especially if that over-analyzing distracts you from the agony of exercise class. If I told her, she'd feel obligated to skip exercise for

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-3338767863561658682008-04-24T13:29:00.005-04:002008-04-25T15:00:34.734-04:00

I have a new article in the Free Times today. Here it is, if you want to take a look. It's the recipe for Perry's Quinoa Salad, which is on the Daily Digress already, but it's always rather thrilling to see something I wrote in print! I do have to wonder why they replaced my picture with one of a pile of grain that looks like white lentils or barley. I'm no super model, but I think I'm more

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-7627312244907644622008-04-22T16:37:00.003-04:002008-04-23T22:44:17.274-04:00

We don't enjoy it as much as we used to, but the kids love it. And all of our neighbors are growing it. When we bought our first house, we claimed to love the outdoors and looked forward to caring for our new, enormous yard, but it turns out we just like the outdoors as a backdrop. Gin tonics on the lawn and that sort of thing, as long as the mosquitos aren't biting. We've killed more grass than

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-34592253040809503432008-04-20T12:26:00.003-04:002008-04-20T12:51:33.107-04:00

Well, all the kids are doing it. And, yes, Mom, if everyone in the world jumped off a cliff, I would, too. I wouldn't be the first, I wouldn't even be in the first half, but if everyone was doing it, I would assume it had some validity. You may (or may not!) have noticed the new thing in the sidebar on the left side of this page, "Twitter Updates." As far as I can tell, it's like a tiny blog.

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-20971677035572386692008-04-17T15:08:00.005-04:002008-04-18T16:46:18.751-04:00

I hate buying toilet paper, hate it. There's nothing fun about it, it's not all that cheap and it's a hassle to carry, especially when you buy enormous quantities, like I do, because I don't want to have to go back to buy more for a long, long time. One of the happiest times in my life was when I bought something like 144 rolls of paper and didn't need more for almost two years. That was great.

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-55220731138106311762008-04-15T13:16:00.004-04:002008-04-15T13:40:01.398-04:00

Tuesday is terrible. It shouldn't even be allowed, because it messes up the whole week. Tuesday is the day on which I have no childcare: no drop-in nursery, no sitter for Monday afternoon homework party with the big kids*, no Big Yoga Thursday sitter**, nothing. And, to add insult to injury, my husband often plays tennis in the evening. He goes there from work, so I don't see him until really

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-73415594415774436702008-04-14T07:42:00.002-04:002008-04-14T07:46:24.005-04:00

"Unh! That crêpe was awesome! And that tickle from Edward's snake's tongue was awesome! I can still feel it. Is today Monday? Because that tickle was from Friday!" These are the things that a six (almost seven!) year old must tell you, before you've even finished your first cup of coffee. That must have been quite the tickle. Namasté, y'all!

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-5341847299861092222008-04-13T07:57:00.003-04:002008-04-13T09:25:02.302-04:00

The big kids and I were going into the library the other day and, lo and behold, we saw a raccoon across the street, carrying something smaller and dead in its mouth. I didn't look too closely, because I wasn't sure if I wanted it to be a squirrel or a rat. Squirrels are cute, so that would have been sad. But I don't like to think about the fact that rats even exist so close to my house. In any

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-30523781631598723022008-04-12T07:50:00.003-04:002008-04-12T08:25:44.865-04:00

Have you heard of Slow Food? I first heard of it years ago when I was rambling on about my philosophy on food and someone, in a polite attempt to shut me up, said, "That sounds exactly like Slow Food. Why don't you check out their website?" Which I did and I've been a fan ever since. Although I'm sure they could give you a far more sophisticated explanation, I would describe their philosophy

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-36203822755926246152008-04-10T11:42:00.007-04:002008-04-10T15:37:16.854-04:00

Well, it's not an emergency, but it is very exciting. The very beautiful shoe designer Ginger Goff and her dashing husband, Greg, are at Kicks! today. They'll be at Lola this afternoon, in case you can't make it right this second. For more info, click here. It's the ultimate in guilt-free local shopping, because Ginger is from Hilton Head, South Carolina. So, you're not just buying shoes, you're

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-71832377326663349122008-04-09T10:46:00.004-04:002008-04-09T10:55:55.310-04:00

I found a note from the X-Man today in my husband's sock drawer. What was I doing in my husband's sock drawer? Getting his checkbook, of course. What? Did you think I was putting his laundry away? Ha! The note was from a while ago, when the X-Man was first learning to write. He carried a little notebook and a pen with him, in case he had any important thoughts. This is what my deeply spiritual

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-36880137714879151902008-04-07T13:57:00.006-04:002008-04-07T20:05:51.622-04:00

I live in South Carolina, not Canada. I went to college in Canada and it was great, but I couldn't live with being cold in April. Apparently, moving back to South Carolina was not enough, because it is freezing*. In an attempt to count my blessings (gag), I'm making Extreme Grouper Chowder for dinner, which would be totally inappropriate if it were warmer. But my mind is on summer meals. In the

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-6866393156830075582008-04-05T09:31:00.005-04:002008-04-06T12:54:52.426-04:00

Although I voted in favor of allowing the sale of alcohol on Sunday in the recent election, I didn't feel all that great about it. I voted in favor because the law prohibiting it was discriminatory. Even down heah in the Bible Belt, not everyone has accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. Can you believe it?* I was tempted to vote "no" for purely selfish financial reasons, which would

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-38190416563351311372008-04-02T13:40:00.005-04:002008-04-02T14:56:03.603-04:00

Earl called this morning. I knew it was him, because his name showed up on the Caller ID*. I figured he was calling to ask me to take the day off and go fishing on his pond, because that's what guys named Earl do. But then I remembered I don't have a friend named Earl. I do have a friend whose husband is named Earl, although he goes by another name. But he shows up on Caller ID as Earl.

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-1247681769662470352008-04-01T11:34:00.003-04:002008-04-01T11:58:41.847-04:00

I thought I could avoid my trainer for a few days while I tried to undo some of the damage of Spring Break. I did do some exercise, mostly bicep curls, with these weights: And I did some Yoga, too, mostly keg stands handstands after all those bicep curls. I wish I had done Yoga back in the day, because I would have been seriously awesome at keg stands. My sister claims she can still do them,

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-48997898867273874422008-03-31T20:05:00.003-04:002008-03-31T20:15:23.866-04:00

Just in case you are not among the approximately three million people I've already told about this: I'm in the April issue of Skirt! Magazine. I'm tickled pink! Click here to see the article and what I think is a very flattering picture, taken by Molly Harrell. She was so much fun and so is Jenny Maxwell, who picked me for the profile and is the editor of Skirt! Columbia. Jenny blogs for the

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-90675559749950695292008-03-29T12:38:00.009-04:002008-03-31T16:02:24.353-04:00

We're at the beach, three hours from home. But we might as well be home, because we run into the same people, eat the same food and do the same stuff, like exercise, shop, eat and blog. Yesterday, my sister in law and I had lunch at Perrone's, with our friend J. from home, who also happened to be at the beach. We went to the gym before lunch, just like home. We ate an early lunch because I

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3460911.post-76818526017059199252008-03-28T12:39:00.005-04:002008-03-29T21:56:14.037-04:00

"Now, I don't want you to take this the wrong way..." "Oh, no!" My mind was racing. "He's going to break up with me. Or tell me I have bad breath. Or tell me he hates my friends. Or there's something in my nose. Ennnhhhh..." I was wrong, of course. The internet repair dude proceeded to explain to me, in excruciatingly boring and incomprehensible detail, that I was never, ever to move some

Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15696674672773945153noreply@blogger.com