Happy Halloween

We survived FrankenStorm, now it's all about surviving Halloween night.

Happy Halloween 2012.

Really, Real

One of the kinda annoying things about me is that I tend to under report "realness" up on this blog, but let me just reassure everyone that things aren't always rosy-colored puppy kisses, and sometimes things just don't go as planned.

Now, let me tell you about one of those times.  Recently, we attempted to have the four of us be all cute and take some photos for our annual fall photo shoot; yeah, that didn't go so well... in fact, it was kind of a fail.

So here are the top 5 fails of the day:

#5

#4

#3

#2

#1

Okay, so it didn't work out quite the way I anticipated, but here's the thing: at least we were all unhappy together... at the beach, so it wasn't all bad.  (I just can't let the optimism go, right?)  In happier news, we rescheduled the photo shoot and got some fantastic pictures, which I will be posting soon.

Thanks for lettin' me keep it real, I'm sure there will be plenty more of this to come.

Family, Dirt Roads & Tree Houses

Watching any urban dwellers getting to stretch their legs in the great outdoors is always heartwarming, but when it's my kids, it's damn near exhilarating.  This weekend, we had the opportunity to visit my cousin and her family who live in a real log cabin- it was awesome.  The boys had a great time running down dirt roads and I got to experience something my parents told me about all too often- trusting that the older cousins will look after the younger ones.  The homemade tree house proved to be a nice family bonding experience as little ones were looked after by older ones while ascending and descending the ladder as a nervous Mama looked on.

We don't get to spend nearly enough moments together with my cousin who lives about an hour and half away, but each time we do, I feel rejuvenated and grateful that despite the distance, our family always has an authentically good time.

Cheers to family, dirt roads and homemade tree houses.

Major Props

This moment with my husband, surrounded by our good friends, eating barbque next to a fire was worth literally running out of the office for.  I've gotta give him major props, at least twice a week, my 8 hour days turn into 9, 10, sometimes even 11 hour days and he never complains.  When we missed the most important part of the party this weekend (the surprise of course), he didn't get annoyed; he went to get gas while I ran around like a crazy person getting ready.  He never once rolled his eyes and asked why I didn't get gas earlier (like I would've), cause he's just that nice.

So give it up for all of the nice husbands/partners/boyfriends/fiances out there who make life a little easier, it's much appreciated.

My Baby

This picture gets me every time.  

Every. 

Single. 

Time.  

There's nothing more that I can say and nothing more that can be written. 

A Boy and His Dad

There are thousands of legendary stories that detail the relationship between sons and fathers and quite frankly, I think my boys can give those stories a run for their money.  Everywhere we go, I hear "those boys love their Dad,"  Or " they sure are Daddy's boys, hunh?"  And I'm all, "yep, they sure are..."

It's so nice to watch them develop this bond with their father, although every once in a while I'm like, "is this thing on?"  I love these pictures that I snapped at the beach recently.  Cullen's one of those kids that is fearless, as long as Daddy's around to reassure him.  He was afraid that the ocean was going to splash him (even though we were a 100 feet away) and only Jim was able to comfort him.  Eventually he got over it and we had a good time, but that face basically says it all, "don't mess with me ocean, or my Dad's going to be really mad at you."

So, to all of the great Dad's out there, and in particular Jim, thanks for keeping those boys safe from the ocean... and monsters and crocodiles and sharks; y'all are the best.

He's So Cool

My son is seriously all sorts of cool. 

 Look at how he rocks the newsboy cap, does it get any better?  

If he were to get any cooler, he'd be ice cold.

New Look

What's a blogger to do when you go on a blogging binge?  Update your blog banner, duh.

What do you think?  I'm going through a case of the envies right now because these other bloggers have some fierce blogs up on this interweb.  So, what's a girl to do with very little time on her hands that wants to be even in the same stratosphere as these lovely ladies?  Fake it, 'til you make it, baby.

So I'm fakin' it all over this blog banner.  I think it's lookin' a little more chic up in here, but that's my opinion and I'm totally biased.   One day, I will break down and pay for someone to professionally make this little blog something legitimate, but for right now, I'm kinda hearting it.  So, it gets a "good enough for now" stamp of approval and up it goes.

The Politician and The Rock Star

I think every parent at one time or another tries to project their child into the future and take a guess at what they will become; I do the exact same thing.  The boys had their picture day at school recently and before they left, I made them get pictures for me; it was a picture before picture day thing, I'm pretty sure that all parents love to do this, right?  (It's kind of like if you ever had someone coming into clean your house, you always clean up first, right?)  The pictures turned out okay, but it was what I realized after I took them that made them more meaningful.  I'm calling this picture the The Politician and The Rock Star.

Arden, of course, is the Politician and Cullen will forever be the Rock Star.  It's more than just how they look in their school gear, it's the legendary personalities that these two groups of people tend to have.  Rock Stars are loud and boisterous (try getting Jagger to sit for a picture) and that's my Cullen, he's 100% rock and roll. And Arden, well he's quiet and unassuming, but don't mistake this for weakness, he runs the show and up in here; he's got the power.

Happy Picture Day 2012.

Nothing But The Best

Another Birthday shout out to my husband and love of my life, Jim.  Let me just tell y'all that I'm pretty sure that Jim and I have one of the most unique relationships that I know of, we incredibly loyal and sincerely happy; but we're totally honest with one another.  Sometimes, that honesty can be mistaken for meanness or one or the other of us being too harsh (mostly me), but it all equals out.  Jim is a wonderful father and the most dedicated partner ever, he literally spent a month waiting on me when I was on bed-rest with Cullen and he never once threw it in my face like I would have.  He never once abused the built in DD privilege while I was pregnant (and he should have) and he goes above and beyond ever day to make happy.

So, here's the thing, on the daily, I should be known as Franny Frugal, because I don't buy anything unless it's on sale, we almost exclusively buy generic and we cut corners as much as possible.  At least twice a week, I tell Jim that we can't do this thing or that thing because it's not in our budget and I'm serious, it's not in the budget.  But, that budget sort of goes out the window- or down the tubes, when it comes to him.

A long time ago, we made an agreement that we wouldn't exchange gifts for each other's birthdays and for the holidays- I have upheld my end of the bargain, he has not.  So, I decided that my man deserved the best and remembered this place that I had seen some pictures of that looked awesome.  We packed the kids up and sent them to Poppy's and then we road-tripped our way to this awesome spa in the middle of nowhere and we had ourselves a good old time.

As the old saying goes, you can take the girl out of budget world, but you can't take the budget out of the girl; so when I was asked what spa treatments we got, I was taken aback, "do you know how much those cost?"  And for dinner, we filled up on snacks from the overpriced snack bar to avoid eating too much at the crazy over priced restaurant.  See, I just can't fully commit to blowing all of our money on the finer things... it just doesn't seem worth it.

But, the hotel itself was fab.  It smelled like a love and happiness and everyone was more than accommodating.  We walked around, almost bewildered at the grandeur of the place, and made sure to take pictures of everything that we found to be "crazy nice."  Seriously, this is the nicest place I've ever stayed.  Ever... Nothing but the best for my man.  Happy Birthday, Jim!

How about a little tour, shall we?

Let me tell you how they gave us not one but two fancy-pants walking sticks to explore the grounds.  If we were hikers, it probably wouldn't have been such a novelty, but since we aren't even these damn sticks made me swoon.

Apparently, this hotel came to be known as the "summer" White House while James Buchanan was president and  as that little tiny sign explains this was the very desk that he worked at while he summered there.  Upon reading that sign, I immediately turned into a 5 year old and made sure to touch all surfaces where a former president may or may not have touched; and let's face it, you would've done it too.  So major props to having such a historical artifact open to the public, but a noticeable fail for the books, which I'm pretty sure were high school text books wrapped in grocery bags- you ain't foolin' me. 

Look at this chair?  I wanted to sit in it, but I didn't... it probably wasn't comfortable anyway...

The grounds were immaculate and even the steps were kinda fierce.

Yeah, we walked across that bridge... and yes, we did feel fancy while doin' it.

The middle of nowhere sure is beautiful, right?

These rocking chairs were just chillin' there, it was so Southern Hospitality.

Ok, so I'm obsessed with these glass door handles.  They go for like 30 bucks a pop.  Can you imagine and 30 dollar door handle?  Talk about fancy-schmancy.

This little room was just outside of of the elevator. You know what's just outside of elevators in the hotels that I stay in?  An ashtray and maybe a mirror if I'm lucky...

How beautiful is this?  I need this for my house and my life.  

This is the nicest hallway that I've ever walked through.  The tile was milky blue and the columns were pristine white, it was my version of complete perfection.

Look at this. They just have this little sitting area where anyone can  view original artwork that 's not behind glass, or complete a puzzle without fearing that some hooligans the night before stole a few pieces as momentos of a good night.

In case you're wondering, there are 49 frames on this wall (the opposing wall had just as many).  You know why I could never make this type of display in my house?  Because I don't the the dollar store even has 49 frames out on the shelves at the same time.

Happy Birthday!

I'm Drumming

We've officially hit the, "I'm drumming!" stage, which really means picking up any long object that can remotely be used as a drumstick and smashing it anywhere and everywhere- including while we're eating in restaurants.  Actually, especially in restaurants.

Usually, our restaurant experiences are filled with totally chaotic moments of little ones crying and spilling and generally being messy; but now that the boys are the "drumming" stage, our restaurant outings having taken on a whole new adjective: noisy.  So, in the interest of sharing some helpful tips, we recently discovered something that works pretty well.  Instead of every utensil being used as drum sticks- and with 4 of us, there's 12 opportunities for that, we've smartened up and started asking for extra straws.  And wha-lah, we have ourselves 2 sets of quiet drum sticks that keep them occupied for the majority of the meal.

Here's how it went this weekend:

They always start out so well mannered, but 10 minutes in, we're on the brink of serious meltdowns.

978, It's Not An Area Code

My sister, and best friend, recently had a birthday.  Typically, I like to highlight my loved one's birthdays on my blog; however, I took a little hiatus and didn't get a chance to recognize and mark the occasion.  So, here it goes.

Her and I were born 978 days apart- I came early, she was 2 weeks late.  I'm pretty sure that we are literally opposite in every way: she's emotional and passionate, I'm rational (to a fault) and refrain from making a declarative statement whenever I can.   She's the knock-out, I'm the comedienne.  She's the middle child and I'm the oldest sister.  She's the best and I try to be like her whenever I can.

So, to my little sister on her belated birthday, I cannot wait for another year filled with antics and embarrassing moments- you know that one's where you threaten each other to bring up old, old, old school embarrassing moments that trump the recent ones if they are repeated; yeah, those.  I look forward to watching you get married and sharing in your son's first birthday.  Watching my niece get dressed up for my birthday (toot, toot) and most of all getting drop in visits at 8:00 pm and watching hilarious TV clips; ones that only her and I find funny- 'cause that's us and how we do.

Happy Birthday, Sissy.  Love you.