Because I very firmly believe that the Family you choose is as important (if not moreso) than the family you’re born into, it thrills me to no end to introduce y’all to my shiny new oldest daughter Dori.

SQUEE!

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

It still won’t do the dishes.

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Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

can be found here. In that post, they will tell you exactly how much alcohol you can add before the gelatin will lose its structural integrity.

This post on the same site will tell you how to make some pretty tasty jello shots using liquers and different flavor combinations.

So please, go see those guys at My Science Project and leave my family-friendly (cuz there’s no booze innit!) Rainbow Jello alone. Mkay?

This blogpost brought to you in celebration of the 10billionth person to find my two-year old Rainbow Jello post by searching “can you make a jello shot that won’t melt”

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

I think by know everyone knows there is no instruction manual that comes with a freshly birthed baby. There are loads of books, but you have to pick and choose and try different things before you find one that works for your family. You hold your baby’s hand as they learn to walk, wincing as they wobble and applauding when they succeed. You teach your child how to navigate the world of cliques and bffs and finding themselves. You teach them how to make the choice that’s appropriate for *them* - which isn’t always the popular one.

And then they hit The Teen Years. It’s been documented that their brain has teh dumb. And yet this is when we expect them to choose a school track, learn how to manage a checkbook and McJob, learn how to drive a car and navigate the adult world. “They” tell you to talk to your teen about drugs, alcohol, and to Just Say No.

Do you know what’s missing from all the stuff “They” say?

How, exactly, are you “supposed” to handle it when your teen says “YES!!! There were drugs and alcohol and I had a *fine* time!!! Now come get me because I’m too effed up to drive.”

Do you flip your shit and slap them into rehab? Waggle your finger and say “Don’t you EVAR do that again”? Start researching boot camps, military schools, and wilderness programs?

What are you “supposed” to do when your teen says “Screw the rules. I can couchsurf if I have to. I have plenty of friends that’ll let me stay with them.”

Do you show them the door, bidding them good luck? Install bars on the windows and an alarm system so you’ll know when/if they try to get out?

What are you “supposed” to do when your teen calls two hours after curfew and says “Uh. Not comin’ home tonight. Not tellin’ you where I am. You don’t need to know who I’m with. Now stop CALLING me, you’re STRESSING me OUT!!!”

Do you call the police and ask for help? (And furthermore, what do you do when they can’t/won’t help?) Get in your car and start cruising the city? Enable the GPS on their cellphone?

I have friends who had babies at 14 and 15 (respectively). Their lives are good now, but were incredibly difficult then. How are you “supposed” to handle it when you try to talk to your teen about sex and they refuse to talk about it?

What are you “supposed” to do?

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

1. Intimated :: that they were lovers
2. Brush :: hair
3. Masquerade :: ball
4. Procedure :: to follow
5. Tattoos :: delicious
6. Square :: peg
7. Tuck :: and roll
8. Boyfriend :: newp
9. Badass :: yup
10. Thousand :: Island

Your turn!

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

Once upon a time, in a horridly ugly alternate universe, there lived a Scary Webpage. Although the images weren’t indexed by the Wayback Machine, thanks to a friend, I can show you it.

Click the image if you want to biggie-size it. Also? A different friend sent the image to me as-is and the artist’s signature is not legible. If you recognize the artwork, holla - I’d love to give credit where credit is due.

Unfortunately, this was not my first webpage.

This was. Well, sort-of. I’m not sure if this is Tig’s creation or mine and he’s not available to ask. (More than likely I coded a page and then he went back and “fixed” it.) I’m fairly sure that both of these pages were created in Dreamweaver.

On the blogging side of things, I can tell you that somewhere around April of 2004 I moved from Moveable Type (please dear gawd don’t ask me what version) to WordPress 1.0.2 and haven’t looked back once.

Between the generation of that first webpage (2002) and my conversion to WordPress (2004) I realized that I am Not A Coder. Ask me a question, I can find an answer for you. Ask me to code something for you and my brain will explode (and not in the shimmery pretty fireworks kinda way either).

Like much of the rest of my life, I’m sure coding would prove to be easy if I Would Just Apply Myself a Bit More but nah. I’d rather let Matt and The Developers handle that side of things. Why reinvent the wheel, after all?

This post is my response to Lorelle, kickin’ my bloggin’ ass.

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

The Challenge: A picture of your Horrid Hair Past, a picture of a Really Good Hair Day, and where you stand today.

I decided to limit the pictures of my Horrid Hair Past to styles I am responsible for, and to stuff that I have digitally already. Y’all know how I am - I’ll sit down in front of the box of photos trying to find something, and end up spending the next 48 hours organizing and scanning and further organizing…it’s really something best left for later. So, without further ado:

This is from April of 2000, and I’m rockin’ The Bun. The Bun being held by a scrunchy. Good lawd.

March, 2001. Ignore the fact that I’m vastly pregnant, and look at that spiffy blue Goody’s hairband/comb thing holding all the hair away from my face. It was South Florida, it was hot, I was pregnant, and could not stand hair.on.my.face. Also notice the ends are significantly lighter than the roots. Now would be a good time to mention that I haven’t seen my “natural” haircolor in years (with the exception of this next photo)

May of 2002. Good lawd if that hair isn’t a depressed cry for help, I don’t know what is. I was still afraid to color my hair and by that point Tig was telling me lovely things like “I don’t care what you look like. I love you for your brain.” (which we all know means “Daaaaamn girl you UGLY”)

I showed this picture to my friend Jami and she made fun of my pseudo-mullet. I think I actually like the red tips and black roots. It’s very emo-ish. Or something.

Definitely something.

December 2003. Speaking of depressed cries for help….

Just look at the baby, okay? LOOK AT THE BABY!!!!

(and I was so proud of having hair down to my waist. No, I really don’t know what I was thinking.)

June 2004 brings us the Revenge of the Goody’s Hair Comb Headband thingy. At least this time it matches my too-dark haircolor. The good news is that by this point I’d clipped ten inches from my hair, bringing it back up to just below shoulder length.

January 2005 and can we get any more ho-hum? I mean, really. At least by this point I’d found a decent color (though still too dark). I also didn’t realize there were toddler fingerprints on the camera lens - hence the foggy look to the photo.

Not really. Sometimes I prefer myself a little blurry.

January 2007 (sssh we’re not speaking to 2006. Let’s just say there were no changes. Move on, nothing to see here.)

I’d finally made it out to see my stylist and had lots of spiffy layers to bring out the curl. Except for that one spike of bangs that’s threatening to take out my eye. Good thing I was wearing glasses for protection *nods wisely*

Due to the demise of my beloved laptop (and the fact that I have to be at work in 20 minutes), I’m picking this one as my “good hair pic”

PS - Hair Thursday is in on this gig too.

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

Unconscious Mutterings | Week 284

1. Notification :: letter
2. Cheat :: spouse
3. Top Ten :: Letterman
4. Draft :: dodge
5. Unbelievable :: deal
6. Cheap :: no, frugal.
7. Spontaneous :: kiss
8. Harass :: annoy
9. Lipstick :: mystic
10. Transpire :: sneaky!

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

Say a prayer or three for me today y’all. Light a candle, chant, dance naked in the sunlight I don’t care - just send me happy computer thoughts. The plug to my laptop finally said “oh HELL naw” and popped out when I disconnected it today. Does anyone know how to repair this problem, or am I going to have to suck it up and send it in?

See that piece of metal sticking out? Yeaaaah, that’s not supposed to be there. That’s supposed to be mounted in the laptop.

My current method of operation is to watch the battery drain, say a few choice words and try to wiggle the thing back into connecting properly. Most of the time I’m able to get and keep power to it. However, I’m going to be spending tomorrow making backups and moving things around juuust to be on the safe side.

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.

You know, the stuff I talked about at the end of January.

I didn’t get my GPA up. Flunked another class, as a matter of fact. There’s always the fall semester, ASSuming I actually go back to Salem (The jury is still out on that matter).

We haven’t travelled yet. We’re going to the mountains for an overnight family thing, and I’m saving up my pennies for the beach. When I wrote that post, I was not expecting gasoline at $4/gal. The trip to the West Coast is tabled absolutely. My brother is not coming home anytime soon either. Mamaw offered to fly his family home for her birthday - she wants to meet his kids. He turned her down. Yes, I’m going to kick his ass when/if I do see him.

The debt snowflaking is progressing nicely. I eliminated my one department store card, and have started working on my one credit card.

I’m not moving anytime soon, Mama did give up her doublewide paradise idea, I still haven’t rolled my own DVR (the one we already own still works). I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with any of my theme ideas so I’ll stick with this one and quietly grr about it. The electronics graveyard is in two places instead of 20million, but I’m not going to ebay them. I’m waiting on the next e-waste recycling day.

My social life has improved a wee bit, and the puzzle is still in the box - having been joined by another equally cool puzzle still in the shrinkwrap.

Originally published at Mama's Bloggin. You can comment here or there.