The start of the adventure.

This photo was taken 6,538 days ago.

In Maui.

Andrew and I had been dating about a year. I knew he was the man I was going to marry. Of course, that was assuming we could travel together. Some people just can’t.

Travel together, that is.

We had some of the most wonderful meals. We went to a kitchy luau. We snorkled.

And, as you can see by the photo here, we went sea kayaking.

I remember the hotel, The Plantation Inn. It was small. Really nice. Not pretentious. The restaurant had the most amazing fish. It was a kind I’d never heard of before. Something local. The best fish I’d ever had.

The trip was an adventure full of unknowns and new experiences.

I don’t think I ever told Andrew it was my first time snorkeling (outside a swimming pool) and I was really scared. The kayaking was a major effort in the waves but I didn’t want him to see how hard it was for me. It’s not that I wasn’t in good shape; I worked out regularly. It was just hard. A lot harder than I thought it’d be.

I was still putting my best foot forward; hoping that he wouldn’t change his mind about me. Feeling insecure, but all romantic and lovey, just the same.

We talked about marriage as the trip neared the end. We considered just getting married right then and there.

But we didn’t.

We did decide that he’d give up his rental and move into my house. And we decided that we’d be engaged by the following June. Looking back, what an odd decision, but hey, here we are.

The next big adventure after getting used to each other’s living habits? Moving halfway across the country. (We’d gotten married just weeks before the move.)

Then new jobs.

Baby #1. Baby #2. Baby #3. All within 3-1/2 years.

I’ve told stories of the years in between and I’ll continue to tell the ones I haven’t. But, not today.

Today, I am just thinking.

Thinking about the journey. So here we are on a kayak together. We’ve committed to stay on that kayak.


Until death do us part.

But let’s be honest. Sometimes, I don’t paddle as hard as I should. Or just on one side. Sometimes, I’m busy playing with my iPhone and don’t notice that we’re headed for a rock.

Or he’s aiming for that beautiful lagoon and I’m dreaming of open water.

And sometimes, we’re just not in sync. Or we’re unable to keep a straight path.

Sometimes, we need to stop paddling and just be. Because those can be the nicest times of all.

The adventure continues.


(note: I edited this post from its original form to better reflect what I meant. 8/29/10)

Rolling, rolling, rolling.

This post is really not about my guys going off-road on segways. Though they did. And they had a fantastic time. This was at Smuggler’s Notch in Vermont. We also swam, hiked, and ate. Oh, and we did nothing.

Nothing. That was the part I liked best. Because it’s so rare that we get to do nothing.

Okay, truthfully, that entailed reading and talking and hanging out. So it’s not really nothing, it’s something I crave. And it’s when we really connect. These are the times I love the most. And I think these are the times I’ll remember always. ‘Cause when we’re all together with no pressure and no schedule, it’s just so relaxed and happy.

And that’s what I love about summer.

While it’s true that I worked a lot this summer, there were lots of times when I stopped and we all played BananaGrams or Quiddler or watched a movie all snuggled up. And so…

As summer ends, I feel it. The nagging at my stomach. The sweat and fear. The dreaded….

And worst of all….

The 7am bus.

Now, I don’t mean to be crabby, but to have a kid out the door at 6:45 means breakfast at 6:30 at the latest. That means alarm at 6:00.

I’m often up at 6:00 anyway. But it’s different when it’s expected. And sure, my kids are old enough to make their own lunches (they do) and make their own breakfasts (they do) and clean up their dishes (they do), they are not so big that they don’t want their mom to talk to in the morning, to have some love and support, and…

blah, blah, blah. You get the picture. It’s just part of the deal.

So I know a lot of you are psyched that your kids are going back to school.

Not me.

The cure.

The original Pine Oil Liniment from 1906. This miracle oil has been known to cure everything but a broken heart. Made from the resinous wood of the Long Leaf Pine tree, Astyptodyne has been a southland tradition for more than 103 years. Used for muscle and joint pain, cuts, bruises, scratches, sunburn, fire ant bites and so much more!

The ads read: Cures Everything But A Broken Heart.

Sure, it smells like Pine Sol.

Sure, it’s a little greasy.

But it’s a memory of my childhood. A way to remember my father’s southern roots.

I still have a bottle.

Do I use it? Well, no. Because it stinks.

But it’s good to know that I have the cure for whatever ails you. Right here, in my medicine cabinet.

One pair. One try. One amazing feat.

I am finally catching my breath from BlogHer. There are so many things I want to tell you.

So. Many.

But one has been nagging at me and I couldn’t wait. (Even though my work pile is looming….)

I’ve written before about how much I hate trying on jeans. Doesn’t everyone? I mean, seriously. It’s been said that the average woman tries on NINE pairs of jeans before deeming a pair worthy of purchase. I have to say that I am probably more in the 12 range.

And it’s depressing.

I’m not particularly heavy. But I have figure flaws that irk me.

I’ve solved the problem by wearing jeans that don’t fit well and not caring. But in reality, I do care.

At Getting Gorgeous at BlogHer, I tried on a pair of Miraclebody Jeans.

One pair.

And they fit like a glove. And you know what? They look better on me than any pair of jeans I have ever worn.


They say you look like you’ve lost 10 pounds in 10 seconds. Unbelievable, right? But I swear, at least on me, it’s true. I have gotten more compliments in these jeans than in the past year on anything I’ve worn.

I even got my mom to try them on. She looked great. (Admit it, Mom.)

DISCLOSURE: Those nice people at Miraclebody Jeans gave me the jeans I tried on. I know, right? I was stoked! (Still am.) I’ve worn them a half dozen times and they’re now in the wash. I made NO promises about blogging about them nor do they have any idea what I actually have decided to write. There were no strings attached. But I did get the jeans. And they’re fabulous.

OFFER: Enter Code “TakeTen” at checkout for 10% off all jeans, and FREE SHIPPING and FREE RETURNS for a limited time. Offer valid on purchase from 8/15 to 9/15 only.

Going green. The blog.

This post is repurposed from August 2005. I could say that I was looking for ideas for a post and this made me smile. (true) Or I could say that I am gearing up for my company’s sponsorship of the Green Blogger Soiree tonight at BlogHer and thought reuse & recycle is my mantra of the day. (also true)

Back in August 2005, I bought a book for my dad. He really wanted it. 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America (And Al Franken Is #37) Anyway, I gave it to him at the time — but wanted to think of an occasion. So I searched for little known holidays and found out a few things. Starting in 2005, there is no longer a Duran Duran Day or a Clown Day. I’m stunned.

August Monthly Observances
Black Business Month
Children’s Eye Health & Safety Month
Children’s Vision & Learning Month
Happiness Happens Month (it happened for me)
May Your Reading Be A Haven Month
National Immunization Awareness Month
National Inventor’s Month
National Toddler Month
National Win With Civility Month
Spinal Muscular Atrophy Awareness Month

August Weekly Observances
Simplify Your Life Week: 1-7 (I wish I hadn’t missed that one)
Exhibitor Appreciation Week: 1-5
World Breastfeeding Week: 1-7
Psychic Week: 1-5 (but you knew that)
National Fraud Awareness Week: 4-10 (coincidence that it overlaps with the previous holiday week?) Actually this is sponsored by the FCC and has to do with phone & mail fraud.
Knights of Columbus Family Week: 6-14
National Scrabble Week: 7-12 (I love Scrabble. But have you tried Quiddler?)
Don’t Wait! Celebrate! : 8-14
Elvis Week: 8-16
Kool-Aid Days: 12-14 (wasn’t there a book about this?)
National Resurrect Romance Week: 14-20
Thanks For All The Gifts Week: 14-20 (you shouldn’t have!)
Weird Contest Week: 15-21
National Aviation Week: 16-22
Be Kind To Humankind Week: 25-31 (just this week?)

August Daily Observances
Girlfriend’s Day: 1
Respect For Parents: 1
Rounds Resounding Day: 1
National Night Out: 2
National Pretty Is As Pretty Does Day: 2
Coast Guard Day: 4
Braham Pie Day: 5
Left-handers Day 13
National Garage Sale Day: 13
National Underwear Day: 13 (oh, no I forgot!)
International Nagging Day: 14
National Navajo Code Talkers Day: 14
Best Friends Day: 15
National Relaxation Day: 15
World Day of Reiki: 15
Joe Miller’s Joke Day: 16 (This English comic actor died in 1738. He inspired the first book of jokes, Joe Miller’s Jokes)
Material Girl Day: 16
True Love Forever Day: 16 (On this day in 1965, Francesca and Robert, the main characters of “The Bridges of Madison County,” first met)
Meaning of “Is” Day: 17
Sandcastle Day: 17
Bad Poetry Day: 18
National Personal Chef’s Days: 18-20
Aviation Day: 19
Root Beer Float Day: 19
Bamboo Day: 20
Vinegar Day: 20
Poets Day: 21
Southern Hemisphere Hoodie Hoo Day: 21 (I need more info)
Be An Angel Day: 22
National Punctuation Day: 22 (why you ask would that be important)
International Day for the Remembrance of Slave Trade and its Abolition: 23
Kiss and Make-Up Day: 25
Women’s Equality Day: 26 (whew whoo – we get a whole day!)
The Duchess & Who Wasn’t Day: 27
Sing Out Day: 27
Race Your Mouse Around the Icons Day: 28
Crackers Over The Keyboard Day: 28
More Herbs, Less Salt Day: 29
Love Litigating Lawyers Day: 31

Sportin’ a ‘stache

I’ve been seeing and hearing a lot about moustaches lately. My #2 son is obsessed; his favorite online store is Fuzzy Ink. He just bought a belt buckle from them. I have to admit…it’s odd. But he’s an odd kid. And I mean that lovingly. ran an article the other day, 10 Mustache Styles That Must Be Stopped. It’s a must read. There are some great photos here. I don’t want to spoil the fun. Check it out if facial hair amuses you. Or even if it doesn’t.

I don’t think all men should have facial hair. But I sure do love it on Andrew. And there are other men that I think look oh, so sexy with a nicely maintained moustache and tightly trimmed goatee or scruffy beard.

Yes, that’s just how I roll.

I do admit that some men should be clean shaven. I believe this wholeheartedly.

And, I believe that most women should be, too.

I do not want to sit in judgement. That is not the point of this post. If you are a hirsute woman and like sporting a ‘stache, you go girl.

For me? It’s never been an aspiration.

And for 48 years and 9 months, that has been the case. Okay, maybe that’s not true. Let me back up a little.

Today, I went for a pedicure. I know, right? I have a meeting tomorrow and want to wear a nice sandal. So I splurged. Top that with the fact that I love that magic fingers chair so much I can hardly describe it. (Hint, hint. This would make a great present one day.) Okay, I’m off track again. Must be all that relaxation.

So Yuna (name changed to protect the innocent) said as she put the finishing touches on my pearl polish… “Wendy, you should let me wax your eyebrows.”

This lead to a discussion about how I just had them waxed. She kindly pointed out that I was not wearing my glasses and she was fairly certain that they needed attention. Fine. I trust her.

So as Yuna was waxing my eyebrows, she said as she pointed to the right and left side of the top of my lip, you know, just inside the big smile lines I’ve developed, “Wendy, you should let me wax you here, too.”


She said it wouldn’t hurt. Much. But that she STRONGLY suggested that I listen.

Sigh. I did.

I have no idea if it looks better, I haven’t looked with glasses on yet. I’m still a little mortified. Mortified that I had no idea that I needed a ‘stache wax and mortified that, as far as I know, I’ve needed one for a long, long time.

Well Yuna? Thanks for crushing my dream of having a young, smooth upperlip. Well, I guess I have a smooth one now. I just hope I know when I need to come back. Clearly, I don’t see as well as I used to.

But that’s a story for another day.

Being a good example.

I slammed my door today. The door to my office.

I was frustrated. My computer was acting up. Andrew and the boys were having fun in the living room. Playing a game. Music blaring. I couldn’t concentrate. I was pissed that I wasn’t having fun and they were. I had work to do. I was behind. With no end in sight.

I called out for them to turn the music down.

No response.

I tried again and again.

And I slammed the office door.

Was it mature? A good example?


But it sure felt good.