Stand Tall Soldier

I give you Exhibit A:

Perhaps you remember seeing it before? Ever since this photo popped up on my laptop screen, I've had nothing but my poor posture on the brain. Aside from contributing to that pesky thing called osteoporosis, bad posture is just down right unattractive. Those slumping shoulders need to go--like yesterday. 

How fortuitous then that one of my favorite vintage fashion blogs recently started running a series of posts entitled: Friday Charm School. You can read her post on good posture and proper walking form here: Couture Allure Friday Charm School Posture Post.

So, fully armed with adequate instruction, I decided to take it upon myself to improve my chances of maintaining strong, healthy bones by improving my posture. As with all of the projects I engage in, I find myself running a mental commentary on my adventures. I thought I might share with you a few of the thoughts that I've had during Mission Perfect Posture. 

1. Standing straight and tall will introduce you to muscles you never knew you had. There will be a pinching in your back that will make you want to scream for mercy. Your abs will feel like they've gone a few rounds in the ring with Muhammad Ali. My dear friend and trainer Jeanne says this is normal. She even goes so far as to say that if I walked this way all day long, every day, I could cut my core training by half and still rock abs of steel. She also claims that if I stick with the whole good posture thing, it will eventually feel normal and that annoying searing pain will be but a memory. Of course this is also the girl who tells me chocolate is bad and tofu is good, so take her words with several grains of salt. 
2. It is mentally exhausting to keep up the perfect posture. My brain has no room for anything but thinking "shoulders back and down, abs in, head high, heel, toe, heel, toe" in a constant repeating cycle. If I miss even a single phrase of my inner monologue, the entire production falls apart. This intense concentration means that I can't focus on answering the difficult questions I'm posed during a typical day--such as"Paper or Plastic?" Add in the fact that my sinus infection makes me feel like my entire head is buried in a pot of honey, and I'm pretty much useless in the social realm these days. More than usual, I mean.
3. Once you start thinking about posture, you can't help but notice it all the time. You not only become aware of yourself sliding back into your shoulder slumping, frumpy ways, but you also notice how large a percentage of the population is right there loafing with you. I felt very conspicuous sitting with a perfectly straight back in the waiting room at the doctor's office when everyone else was slouched down in the less-than-comfortable chairs. I felt eyes watching me, and I imagined them wondering why I was all hoity-toity. As someone who prefers to blend into the background, I had to constantly fight the desire to drop my shoulders and curve my spine. So I distracted myself by playing with my iPad--I'm sure that helped convince them that I was not at all pretentious, right?

  It is generous to say that this project of mine remains a work in progress, and will probably continue to be so well into my 80s. Take for instance, Exhibit B: 

 While it's without a doubt an improvement, those shoulders could still stand to come back and up a bit more. But at least I have my facial features arranged in a somewhat normal alignment--so perhaps my brain is beginning to get used to the challenge of handling two jobs at once? Just don't ask me any questions.

I Hope You Dance

No matter how cheesy that song is or how many times I've seen its chorus splashed across a scrapbook page, I always get a little chill when I hear it. I think it's the sentiment of the thing that gets me. Being a shyish, bubble girl myself, I sometimes have to force myself to pry my body free of the wall and actually join in the world around me.

Unless children are involved. It must be the teacher in me, but I have no problem making a fool of myself in front of kids. That, in fact, is the reason that I didn't get any photos of Amaya's first ballet class--I was too busy twirling and grand plié-ing to be bothered to record the event for posterity. I knew the dance teacher had a heart of gold when she asked me--clumsy, elephant-footed me--how long I'd been dancing. I hope I didn't offend her when I laughed in her face.

Do you see how cute this studio is? It's a princess wonderland. No wonder I feel so at home there.

These fairy crowns were so cute, and so easy to recreate. They're just wired butterfly garland halos with streamers/ribbons attached. The girls loved them. Amaya spent a good 5 minutes just checking herself out in the mirror. Not that there's anything abnormal about that. Girl is a diva.

Here's a fun video to give you a feeling for how the 45 minutes goes--just picture me standing next to her mimicking her moves. Or trying my best to anyway.

I really don't think I need to worry about Miss Petunia sitting idly by on the sidelines, do you?

Curse of the Mellon

All of the makings of a legendary day were in place. Beautiful weather, an easy road trip to Richmond, premium parking and that was just the tip of the perfection iceberg.

BigSpot had a fancy suite at RIR filled with great people from SnagAJob.com.

A suite with a view so good it made me question whether sitting on top of the war wagon really was the best seat in the house. But only for a minute. Or two. Air conditioning may have made it three. But I digress.

Our favorite driver arrived for a little meet and greet. He handled the Q & A session like a pro--he made it look a little too easy actually. I was tempted to ask Brian if he knew how to make my high beams stay on in the Volvo, but a quick look from Drew told me that wouldn't really be appropriate.I swear that man can read my mind, but only when I'm up to no good. Not when I want him to bring me home a latte or rub my feet. Then it's all static. But I digress. Again.

 In hindsight, Drew was probably right on this one. I mean I wouldn't want to put my BFF on the spot like that. What!? He is so my BFF! No, I most certainly am not delirious. You don't believe me? Well, check it: 

Yes, I know that picture is blurry, but trust me when I tell you that hero card says: To my BFF LAURA. In silver sharpie no less.  What? You think I asked him to write that? What? Lo siento.No hablo ingles. (despite my dedication to Rosetta Stone)

So you can see the day was going spectacularly. Not that there weren't a couple bumps along the way.

I don't have any idea what I was doing/saying/thinking here, but trust my husband to capture the moment forever. And trust me to post it here for you all to laugh at--am I your BFF too? Thought so.

But anyway, as I was saying this day was going to go down in the books as one of those too good to be true kinda days. The stuff of fairy tales even.

I got a new photo to frame for Drew's desk.

I discovered a new NASCAR job opportunity to pursue.

I saw Kyle Busch walk by in a pink fire suit. And he didn't run me over this time, so that was a bonus.

Yes, all the dominoes were lining up for the perfect run. I could almost taste the checkered flag. And then without warning, something went wrong. Just as that last domino was about to be placed, something tipped the scale and the whole course came crashing down. Splat.

I thought the #11 guys moved fast during a routine pit stop, but that's nothing compared to how quickly they moved in Richmond Friday night. Before I could blink my eyes, the entire team was behind the wall working on the car. Thank goodness for Twitter or I'd have had no idea why.

No11BraunRacing: A whisp of smoke signals a broken fitting on an oil line for @bscottracing. The @BigSpotDotCom team will take it behind the wall for repair.

So frustrating! To work so hard and then have it all fall apart because of a single broken part. How could this happen? What could be behind such horrid luck? And then I remembered. How I wish I hadn't.

Someone--who shall remain anonymous for he knew not what he was doing--did this to the BigSpot car before the race.

See it over on the left there?

L.L. my initials. On the car. In silver sharpie. Like the mark of the devil since clearly I am misfortune incarnate. No more than that. I am cursed. Now, my dreams of a NASCAR career are really dead. Who's going to hire a girl who leaves a trail of broken oil lines in her wake?

At least I'll always have the memory of the perfect day that almost was.

Yes, there's always that.

I hope no one at the DMV reads my blog

Do you want to know what happens when Mellon has to function on only 4 hours of sleep? This is what happens:

The funny thing here is not so much that I drove the car up onto the curb. No, given my driving abilities, that's to be expected really. The funny thing is that when I parked this car at 6:30AM, I had no idea that I had gone up on the curb. Not. A. Clue.

I didn't realize my parking faux pas until we returned back to Sam's house at noon, and I found it in that state. Tell me, how exactly does one not feel the car jump the curb? Exhaustion, that's how.

And why was I up so early on a Saturday morning? Why to attend the great South Riding Yard Sale/Expo show with the girls, of course. Between the free Walgreens water bottle stuffed with samples and the Panera breakfast--it was totally worth the sleep deprivation. These $.50 alphabet magnets were just icing.

What? You think you should get a little icing too? Well, what if I told you that my next post will be about the Curse of the Mellon? Not good enough? What if I tell you that it includes a positively delightful photo of me taken by my husband? Pure sugar, am I right? Thought so.

It's a thrifting thing

It's possible that only my mother will appreciate the genius of this commercial. She may be the only one who will be cackling along with me. The rest of you can just shake your head at my silliness. Don't worry, I'm used to to it since it's pretty much my husband's standard response to my second hand shopping addiction.

Her pictures require a thousand words...

Despite constant practice, Amaya's dreams of earning her paparazzi credentials have been waylaid by her lack of technical acuity.  

Paging Mr. Newton

When you become the Mama, you start to see danger lurking around every corner. I don't know if it's some gene that is only activated when that little body is placed in your arms or what, but I know that I never thought about these things before. For instance, growing up in a rural community in the mountains, I'm sure that I bore witness to tons of fallen trees and broken branches without ever giving them a passing thought. Now, when I see a fallen tree, I say a quick prayer of thanks for it having fallen without hurting anyone. But at the same time, I look around at all the surrounding trees mentally judging their distance from the house and key play areas trying to determine their potential risk factor. It's a bit of a sickness, I realize this.

Anyway, sometime in late July, we had a pretty bad storm blow through the hood. It did this to the neighbor's tree:

Closer view:

I have no idea the physics involved with how this massive branch is able to remain hanging on up there, but since it's been over a month, I guess it's pretty secure--relatively speaking, right? Despite knowing this, I get sick to my stomach when I see kids playing in their yard because I keep picturing that trunk falling down. This tree is right on the fence line, so I refuse to let my kids play in that part of our yard. Andy, of course, is growing weary of me reminding him of this, but I can't help myself. It keeps me up at night sometimes just thinking about it. It's probably some kind of doomy, gloomy OCD or something. But at least I recognize my crazy, right?

Now just imagine how I felt when arriving at the lake to find this:

That sucker fell right down by where we make our smores.  The thing is, Gma doesn't even remember any major storms with high wind warnings. So maybe it was a random lightening strike? Who knows. Once again, a quick word of thanks that it fell when no one was outside at the time trying to eat a graham cracker covered in chocolate and marshmallow. And this was one massive tree.

Its carcass stretched almost down to the water's edge. Had it not been so dry, it might have even reached the water. See this is the lake now:

See where Chase is standing. Keep that in mind as you look at this picture from July 4th.

Clearly, we are experiencing a drought. And trees are more likely to snap when they're dry. So you can imagine how my little brain was twisting with worry. There's only one solution when I find myself fraught with anxiety: Go shopping.

So, my Mama and I hit up the Oakland Goodwill. I got lots of great treasures for the lake that I forgot to photograph, so I'll share with you two of the things that I brought home.

A couple of old, glass medicine bottles. I plan to put all of the flowers my children pick for me in them. I may be counting my chickens before they hatch though, as it's been quite some time since one of them brought me a freshly pruned stem. No matter, I know where to buy my own flowers.

The other treasure I purchased I had planned to give to Drew. You see, ever since he moved into his big fancy office, he's whined about wanting to have a Don Draper Couch. Anyone who's watched Mad Men will probably understand why I might have objections to that.  So I thought I would substitute five Don Draper Glasses instead. You know for all of that bourbon Drew drinks at work. Or iced tea. Either or.

I was pretty proud of myself for finding such a great compromise. But Drew didn't seem quite as excited about them as I thought he should be. Guess he's still pining over that couch. Too bad.

No worries though, I'll just use them to drink my diet coke on the rocks while I pace the yard trying to guess in which direction that big oak will fall. It's times like this that I really wish I would have paid more attention in those physics classes.

Can't quite put my finger on it

This weekend, we decided to take a long after dinner stroll. The purpose of this little diversion--besides getting fresh air and a little exercise--was to wear the two little dumplings out so they would go right to Sleepy Town as soon as their little noggins hit the pillow. Perhaps, they would be so tired from the excursion that they might actually sleep long enough for Mama to enjoy a little snooze-a-thon in the morning instead of finding herself awoken at dawn by the sound of the two of them thumping and banging above her head.  Sugar plums danced through my brain at just the thought.

The plan started out perfectly. I smiled smugly as I imagined the sweet sound of their exhausted snores wafting down to me all snug in my bed. 

But somewhere along the way, we lost sight of the objective. Despite our well laid plan of attack, the two little hoodlums did not end up as energy drained as I'd envisioned. I've gone over and over our execution, but

I just can't figure out where the plan failed.

Any ideas?

Oh, Oh It's Magic!

Did you know that today is officially 90210 day? Why? Because the date today is 9.02.10. This won't happen again until September, 2 2110--and who knows if people then will even know of the wonder that was Brenda Walsh. So we must celebrate now! Join me!

In other news, we went to Ocean City, Maryland last weekend. We were lucky to be able to get a way for 3 days given how hard Drew's been working on the Pig. But we weren't going to let our limited stay keep us from enjoying every minute of the trip. I even received a sign at the beginning of our journey that our vacation had been touched by magical beings.

Rainbows! It was like a happy little leprechaun waved his magical arms and blessed our trip with the luck of the Irish. And don't even think about telling me about angles, light refraction and prisms. It was totally a happy little elf that did it. Probably one distantly related to this fairy-like creature:

She never leaves home without her wand. You never know when you're going to need  a little bibbity bobbity boo, right? If the following photos are any indication, her spell for fun in the sun certainly went off without a hitch.

But magical creatures have to be careful as humans are always trying to snare them in traps as to harness their power. We can't be leaving tracks like these around.

Cover them up! Quickly!

One rule of fairydom: the wand is only to be used for very special purposes. Still, I begged and pleaded for her to use her magic to grant me better posture. I thought for a minute she might acquiesce, but, well, obviously not.

My next attempt at corruption was to try to get the little sprite to find a way to contain the sand invasion, but she refused. So I was left to find a solution  myself. Perhaps playing in the gritty stuff before getting all wet would help? It's a conundrum for sure.

Even the Super Heroes were perplexed to the point where they could only bury their heads in the sand in defeat.

I even employed the use of a mystical powder. It tried valiantly to defeat the enemy, but even with such a powerful potion, the sand still found its way into countless nooks and crannies.

Eventually, the crunching of the grains got to us, and we headed for other diversions. Ahoy Matey!

Something's a little fishy with that buccaneer, right?

Together, the terrible two searched for buried treasure.

They found my booty!

 Treasure any pirate worth his wooden leg would fight to possess. Time to kick back and enjoy the spoils of victory.

But every good story must come to an end, so soon it was time to leave the mystical beach and head back to reality. Unable to believe that our good luck could possibly hold much longer, Captain Amaya decided it would be a good idea to bone up on flight safety protocol.

Thankfully, those rainbow-providing guardian angels saw fit to see us safely home.You can't tell me a simple prism did all that. It's magic baby.