Dear Snow,

I’m over you.  SOOOO over you.  Please go away and don’t come back until November December.

I’m cold.  Oh so very cold.  I long for the days that I can wear these again.  Or this.  Or this.

So please, I beg you, GO AWAY.  Far, far away.

-h

Arle and I decided to take a fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants road trip to Texas.  So, yesterday we hopped in the car and off we went to visit our friends Virginia and Luke and their two sweet little boys.

I’ve wanted to attempt this drive for quite some time, but never actually had the nerve to do it until now.  The 8-hour trip wasn’t bad at all.  Arle did great due to the massive amounts of movies and snacks I had on hand.  I typically hate driving and prefer to fly, but I managed ok…although my hiney was freakin’ out a bit after sitting for such a long time.

In the end, I was actually thrilled that we drove because I was having so much fun driving on these fabulous Texas highways.

70 mph on a two-lane hilly, curvy road???

Yes, please!

I’ve forgotten how much fun it is to drive in this neck o’ the woods!  I felt like a race car driver.  Plus, everybody waves at you as you pass ‘em on the road!  Such friendly folks, these Texans are.

I promptly called Trav and told him we are moving.  He said I’m crazy.

Maybe I am, ya’ll.  Maybe I am.

It’s a snowy, cold day here in KC, but we braved the freezin-jeebers temps to meet up with some other moms and kiddos at a play-gym.  Afterward, we went to lunch with some of them and, as we were eating, Arle announced she needed to go potty.

I got up to take her to the restroom and on the way there she suddenly said, “My hiney’s freakin’ out!!!”

Talk about a phrase that will make this momma move faster than I’ve ever moved before.  Evidently it was a false alarm though because nothing happened in that restroom that warranted such a proclamation.  Thank goodness.

I definitely succeeded in having a perfectly lazy weekend.

Sushi on Friday night was super yummy and the company was great.  I even got all crazy and adventurous and ate straight up sashimi.

Trav was so proud of me.  But not nearly as proud as I was of him for eating the spicy mayo that drizzled one of our rolls.  What?  I haven’t ever mentioned Trav’s phobia of white condiments?  Well, he has one and it’s totally absurd.

Another post for another time.

Unfortunately, I did eventually (as Kristin knew I would) have to get out of my p.j.s.  We decided it was finally time to have Arle’s hair trimmed.  She made it through 31 months of life without one.  I held it together and snapped lots of pics through the whole ordeal.

She thought the whole thing was grand as they gave her a lollipop and put her in a snazzy blue car chair, which was perched in front of a TV playing Dora and all of her annoying friends.

Please pardon the “after” photos.  Not exactly the “after” look I was hoping for.  Once the lady finished cutting Arle’s lovely locks, she informed us that she would style her hair for free. She asked Arle if she wanted braids, pigtails, or a ponytail.

Arle said she would like a ponytail.

The lady then informed us that she would do her “signature ‘do” which turned out to not be a ponytail at all.  I’m still confused by the whole thing.  I mean, if you’re going to give the kid a choice, the least you can do is actually grant the request, right???

Thank goodness the cut is actually nice and even, though.  Plus, Arle’s hair still has some of that adorable natural flip to it that she had before.  I was absolutely convinced (and terrified) that it would go away once we cut it.

I’ll do my best to post a pic of her hair down, so you can actually see the difference.

Ta-ta for now!

I’m not sure why, but this has been a long week.

Not a bad week.  Just looooooooong.

Arle is in super-duper question mode these days.  But why?  How?  What is it?  But why?  But who?  How?

Don’t get me wrong…the curiosity is sweet and adorable and all but, gee-whiz, it’s mentally exhausting sometimes.  On the way to a play-date this morning she got on a kick about why daddy works.

Why does Daddy work?

Does Cade’s daddy work?

Does Charlotte and Olivia’s daddy work?

Does David and Annie’s daddy work?

Why do they work?

Where do they work?

What does daddy do?

But why?

But how?

I have a hard enough time explaining to adults what Trav does, but trying to explain it to a two-year-old was much more difficult.

I finally just went with, “He works because he loves us and wants to take care of us.”  That answer seemed to satisfy her for approximately two full seconds.

Worker Bee Daddy and I arranged to have a babysitter come over tonight and I’ve soooooo been looking forward to it.

Hooray for date-night!

We’re going out with two super fun couples and indulging in a little bit of heaven, otherwise known as this:

photo credit: Ree Drummond

Hooray for sushi date-night!  I’ll go ahead and admit that I’m a bit of a sissy-sushi-eater, though.  No sashimi for this girl…I stick with the rolls, but it will be delicious none the less.

The rest of the weekend will be spent relaxin’.  Honestly, I’ll be surprised if I even get out of my p.j.s.  Except maybe when we go to church.  I’ll probably get out of my p.j.s for that, but I’m not making any promises.

What do you have planned for the weekend?

But why?

But how?

Where?

But why?

Last night for dinner, I made another PW recipe from my fab cookbook.  You know, the one signed by PW herself?  Yeah, that one.

No, I’m not obsessed.  Why do you ask?

I have to space out our PW meals because each recipe involves a whole lotta butta.  And the last thing my honkin’ hiney needs right now is a whole lotta butta.

My neighbor, Adriane, recently raved about Marlboro Man’s Favorite Sandwich, so I thought I’d give it a try.

Oh.  My.  Goodness.

So yummy.

So easy.

So husband pleasin’.

So suddenly-very-picky-two-year-old pleasin’.

In an attempt to cancel out all the butter used in the recipe, I served the ‘wiches up with a side of steamed broccoli.  Not exactly the kind of side you think of when bellying up to a big hearty sandwich, but whatev.  This family happens to love broccoli and, by golly, we’ll eat it with pretty much anything.

Anyway, broccoli aside, we all thought the sandwich was great. Travis “mmmmmd” and “oooooohd” and “aaaaaaahd” throughout the meal.

Arle threw her hands in the air and exclaimed, “I WUV IT!!!”

As most PW recipes do, it made a load.  If you’re not into leftovers make a half-recipe.  Our family, thank the Lord, happens to love leftovers almost as much as broccoli.  I intentionally try to make things that provide leftovers, just so I don’t have to cook every single night.

Conversation that occurred while Arle and I played with Play-Doh this morning:

Arle:  Mommy, what color do you want to play with?

Me:  I think I’ll use this hot pink.

Arle:  Well, ok.  I think I’ll use this cold pink.

Everything is so literal at this stage.  I love it!

Arle’s big girl room is all coming together.  I found bedding that I love.  Still haven’t ordered it, but here’s a sneak peek.

I showed this pic to Arle and asked if she liked it for her big girl bed.  She answered, “Um yes!  I just wuv pink.  I wuv it a WOT!”

As much as she “wuvs” pink, though, I don’t want it to be an overly pink room, so I’m going to accent with lots other fun and bright colors.  This pillow should help out with that goal.  I showed her this pic and she “wuvs” it, as well.

Along with this quilt at the foot of the bed:

I’m definitely ordering this pillow to add to the mix.  They have a smaller and less expensive one available and that’s what I’ll be getting:

This print will be adding some color to the walls.

So, what do you think?  Do you WUV it????

In my last post, I was complaining about the cold.

Temps actually broke into the 20s yesterday and I was thrilled.  It felt down-right balmy.  We’re supposed to have temps above the freezing mark tomorrow and I can hardly contain my excitement.

There’s only one thing that’s gotten me through this brutal weather.

It’s this…

Why, yes, that is a leopard print Snuggie that I’m sporting.  And, yes, I do look like I weigh 800 pounds.  You got a problem with it?

I’ll admit that I was an avid Snuggie hater once upon a time.  But then my friends, Jessie and Evan, blessed me with one of the ginormous, hideous frocks as a gag-gift.  It was supposed to be a joke, but it didn’t take long before I fell in love.  At this point, I can’t even remember how I got through the first 31 years of life without it.

The main level of our house is super-duper-freezin’-jeebers and I spend each day walking around the house freezing my hiney off.

But, alas, the Snuggie has saved me.  I use it just like the commercials suggest – while reading, on the computer, or watching t.v.

So, now’s the time where all of you closet Snuggie-wearers come out of hiding.  Go ahead and admit your Snuggie-wearin’ ways.  It’s o.k.  We’re all friends here.