Friday, February 29, 2008

More Conversations With Ian

(Let me preface this by saying I had a hair appointment on Wednesday, but my girl got sick and had to reschedule for this next week.)

Ian was hanging out with me as usual this morning, following me around the house while I did my dailies. My hair is pulled back, so it looks a lot darker since my roots are a mile long.

"Mom, I like your hair blonde. It looks pretty blonde."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, I think you look lots prettier with blonde hair."

"What color is my hair now?"

"Kind of black and brown. Not blonde."

Truth from a four year old. It doesn't get much more blunt than that.
Share this:

Monday, February 25, 2008

Conversations with Ian

Today, on the way home from Costco:

"Mom, girls don't toot."

"Umm, really?"

"Yep. Girls don't toot or burp."

"Hmmm... I think they might."

"Nope. Boys do, but girls don't."

"Ian, I think you may be wrong on that."

"No, I think I'm right."
Share this:

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Saturdays are next to slovenliness... wait...

or maybe it's slovenliness is next to godliness. No, no. That's not it either. Hmmm... Oh, cleanliness is next to godliness. Phooey. Well, that's not biblical, so whatever. But, it's Saturday. And in our house that's a day to relax and be a tad, well, slovenly.

Dishes in my sink. Laundry awaiting my call... both clean AND dirty. A filthy floor. Carpets needing to be shampooed. Couch cushions needing to be washed. Bathrooms needing scrubbed. Showers needing the same. Counter clutter that grows with each passing day.

A friend posted this a while back, and it pops into my mind on days like today:

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
to paint a picture or write a letter,
bake a cake or plant a seed,
ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
with rivers to swim and mountains to climb,
music to hear and books to read,
friends to cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out there
with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair,
a flutter of snow, a shower of rain.
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go - and go you must -
you, yourself will make more dust!

Share this with all the wonderful women in your life! I JUST DID.
It's not what you gather, but what you
scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.

I'm going to go embrace the sun with my kiddos right now.
Share this:

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Sassy Shoe Thursday: Shoes You Should Own, Part V

We at the White House have been a bit under the weather lately... like for the past two weeks. What the heck? We were just about over the whole respiratory junk, and now since Tuesday evening I've been feeling puke-y, but no puking, achy, but no fever. I've also been getting really dizzy, which is actually quite funny. All of a sudden I'll feel like I'm falling to the left, and then for about five minutes afterward I have this lingering dizziness/disorientation thing. So if I get up and walk I literally list to the left. It's annoying, but I also have to laugh a little because I'm sure it looks really funny. Either that or I just look drunk, since I'm holding on to chairs and leaning against walls to get around.

So, in light of cold and flu season, I will announce the next type of shoe you should have in your wardrobe:

Sassy, Comfy Slippers!

Even when you're not feeling well, only want to wear sweats, and the farthest outside of the house you venture is to get the mail or say goodbye to your kids in the morning, sassy footwear can make ALL the difference. Like taking a shower after you've been sick, it's just so refreshing!

Embrace your slippers! You'll feel much better doing so if they're cute.

Giving credit where credit is due:
My awesome sister-in-law Christine gave me the pink ones, Mom gave me the brown & pink ones with rhinestones, and Nate & the kids gave me the red ones. I can match them to my lounge pants! (My family knows me so well.)
Share this:

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Tootsie Dean

There was a time when I went by another name. A time when I swore I would never, EVer marry anyone with the last name of White. A time when the Dean Girls were known for swimming and soccer and family and friends and Dari Mart. A time when everyone I knew called me Tootsie, save for my Grandmother who never would and for some reason spelled my given name Angelia. (Incidentally, one of Nate's grandmothers does this, too. It must be a generational thing.)

Marriage. Babies. Military. Life moved on, and somewhere in the mix I became Angela White. A glorious name that I have grown to fully love and embrace. Angela: God's messenger. God's messenger of Grace. Really, it's my life's story.

Yesterday some memories came flooding back. You know how you get lost somewhere on memory lane, looking at scenes frozen in time? Then your face breaks into a smile because the nostalgia is so sweet. Tootsie Dean.

I was a freshman. I remember standing at the dance. I can't exactly recall WHICH dance, but it was after football season. It could have even been the last dance of the year. I had that yearning every girl does at the dance: to dance, amazingly enough. Yes, we went out and danced to fast songs in a group, clustered closely, looking around to make sure our moves were okay. But it was the slow dance we longed for. Someone to notice us... and ask. To be rescued from that wall or chair we were keeping company. All the jerky older guys cruised for "fresh meat." You knew who they were. I guess it was kind of flattering to be noticed by them, but they were just THAT type. You might dance if they asked, but...

When he walked over I thought he couldn't possibly be looking at me. When he asked I think I may have stuttered a "sure." It all happened so fast. He was my friend's big brother. A senior. The good guy. The guy people respected. One of the ones they looked up to. Tom Irwin. And he asked me to dance.

Fast forward nearly two decades later. I'm sure Tom, wherever he is, would think long and hard and STILL not recall those few minutes. But for me I'll never forget the flutter in my freshman heart when the important guy saw me... and asked me to dance. The respected guy. The good guy. Being by him, I felt important. I felt respected. When he confidently led me out on the dance floor his actions reminded me (even if I soon forgot) that the good guys are worth waiting for. Maybe he was only doing his sister a favor, maybe it was a dare, maybe he was bored as all get out and I was the only one left on the side... but my heart soared. I felt noticed. Seen.

So, thanks Tom Irwin for the dance. It meant more to that little girl than you could have ever known at the time. And after dances with other guys through those unsure years, yours is one of the ones I remember most.
Share this:

Monday, February 18, 2008

Office Fun

Happy President's Day!

Some of you know Nate and I have become totally addicted to The Office as of late. Season One through Season Three dvd's have all been watched, and we're trying to decide if we should buy Season Four individual episodes online or wait to see if NBC will re-show them before they start it back up on April 10th. (Yay! The Writer's Strike has ended!)

A friend sent me the link to this quiz and I just had to share it with my readers. Even if you aren't an Office fan do it anyway and leave me a comment divulging who you're most like!!!

I have half a mind to wait and tell you who Nate and I are in a later post, but...

Nate was a split personality: Jim and Dwight. I can totally see that!!!!! And me?


*sigh of relief*
Share this:

Friday, February 15, 2008

May 22nd, 2008

Watch the first official trailer here! I'm so excited!

(Albeit still not as completely crazy as I am for May 16th.)
Share this:

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Sassy Shoe Thursday: A Repeat

Happy Valentine's Day! I tried to think of a Sassy Shoe Thursday post I could do that would be fresh, creative, and celebrate red, pink, and chocolate. However, I haven't been feeling well AT. ALL. Nor do I have red, pink, and chocolate shoes. So, at the risk of being really lame, I'm posting the link to a recent SST post that celebrates the wonderful powers of the red shoe.

I guess I could have posted a picture of me wearing a red shoe on one foot and a pink shoe on the other foot while eating chocolate. Alas, my creative powers are overwhelmed. I'm going to go take more Advil.
Share this:

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

The Motivation of Fatburger

I know I haven't blogged in, what, a week? Baseball, gymnastics, church, colds... "Whatever, just blog already!" I even missed SST. Sheesh. What's WRONG with me?

This last Saturday was a momentous occasion at the White House. Well, not exactly AT the White House, but in Santa Barbara at Brit's gymnastics meet. For the first time she not only won a gold medal, but took first place in the All Around! So, SO exciting. Just Friday night as we were putting her to bed she looked at her shelves of trophies and medals and said, "Dad, I think I need some more gold in here." And the next day she did exactly that.

But, as excited as she was about the trophy, I think she was more excited about getting her very own Fatburger milkshake. (Our family loves Fatburger. In Denver you could find us there after report cards came in, or after an exceptionally good sports game, or when we all had a day off from everything. Now we have to go to Santa Barbara to partake.) Normally we make the kids share (which could be why we're passing around a nasty cold right now), but Nate had told Brit if she won a gold (we were pretty sure she'd get at least one) she could have her very own and not have to share with ANYone! As soon as she found out she won it wasn't, "Look at my medals!" or, "Look at my gold trophy!" It was, "I get my own milkshake! I get my own milkshake!"

Maybe we should have saved the cup and put THAT on her trophy shelf.

I haven't posted many photos lately, so here's a few:

Silly, silly girls.

Silly, silly Daddy! That milkshake is for Brittney!

Silly, silly boys.
Share this:

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Truth and Cobwebs

We were close to wrapping up our Tuesday morning's small group that meets at my house. (Come join us!) Sitting in the family room, laughing, chatting, eating... I can't even remember WHAT we were talking about when my friend, Lalena, looks my way and says something about the cobweb. My face does that thing where it turns from a laughing, smiling, having fun face to an oh-no-I'm-about-to-get-called-out face.

She mentions the cobweb up in my bedroom. Whew. I got that one. Somehow it comes up that wasn't the big cobweb. (Who raised that point? You're out of the group.) I feel my face turning a little red. I'm sweating a little. "Umm, the one in the kitchen? Oh. Uhhh... I never got it."

"What? It's still there?"

"Ummm... yes?"

"ANGELA! Where's your broom??!!!? We're getting it right now!" She grabs the broom from the front closet, goes into the kitchen, "Okay. Where is it?" Thank you Stephanie for pointing out to the group that if you sit at my computer and look up you can see it. I appreciated that.

Lalena heads for the computer, looks up, sweeps the corner of the wall, "Oh, there I got it."

The truth-teller in me just canNOT keep quiet. (Blasted book of Proverbs. Why didn't the verses about controlling the tongue stick as well as the ones about telling the truth?) "That wasn't the cobweb."

"It wasn't?"

"Look to your left. On top of the cupboard."

"Oh, my GOSH! That's HUGE!!! ANGELA!"

I guess sometimes you need your friends to help clear out your cobwebs.
Share this:

Monday, February 4, 2008

Shoes and Chocolate

Thought I'd give my readers a heads up that right now at you'll receive a box of Godiva chocolates with every order, while supplies last.

Shoes and chocolate, with free shipping. What more could I ask for? Well, a housekeeper. (Only once a week to do bathrooms, floors, and window sills. Nothing more.) Yes, shoes, chocolate and a weekly housekeeper. Now THERE'S a promotional DEAL! Why don't they hire me to think of these things? Seriously.
Share this:

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Pictures of Strangers

Last night we made a late run to Wal-Mart to procure Season One of The Office. (We've only just started watching. Hilarious. However, Season One does leave quite a bit to be desired when compared with the more recent re-runs on TBS that I THINK are from Season Three. Some things really do get better as they age. We've started tagging people with who they might be. Nate's a Jim. I must be a Pam. But wouldn't everyone say that? We have a friend who is a TOTAL Dwight, which makes us laugh. Hard. But if you were to ask him, he'd probably say he was a Jim. Which would be wrong. Which means maybe I'm wrong about us being Jim and Pam.)

I just got totally off track here.

So, yesterday we made a late night run to Wal-Mart. Walking out of the store, Nate nudges me, "Is that what you're talking about?" I look just ahead of us to see, from behind, a woman in light khaki pants that are quite baggy, which she has attempted to tuck into her black boots. Now, given, the boots were of a fur-lined sort. I wouldn't call them Uggs, but not a dressy boot by any means. When wearing boots of this type you can be a little more lenient with pant style. Surfer Beach Chic can pull on her sheep skin boots and go. HowEVer... this woman was definitely not Surfer Beach Chic, and was obviously using her fur-lined footwear to dress up her khaki pants, which did not like the idea and were blatantly trying to escape the confines of said boot. A large puff of pant had been created at the top of each boot, and for all I know she was stealing things from the store and hiding them in her fashion mistake.

Now, this brings me to my dilemma. I wanted so badly to take a picture and post it. A clear example of a definite no-no. But I couldn't just whip out the camera in Wal-Mart and aim it at this poor woman's backside! Well, I could have, but I wouldn't want someone doing that to me, so I shouldn't subject her to it, either.

In Costco on Thursday there was a girl with the cutest Scottish Plaid pointy-toe slingbacks eating pizza a few tables away. A great example of Everyday Sassy Shoes, and her pants were even the right length. I started to reach for the camera, but thought, "What are the ethics of this?"

Seriously! I mean, they always have fashion no-no's in magazines. They blur the faces, and everyone can see how NOT to wear 80's shoulder pads. (I maintain there is no correct way to do this. Ever. Unless you're Gwen Stefani. Then I'll love it and wish I had the guts to copy the outfit.) But, what happens to those photographers when they get caught? When the subject turns around and sees them snapping the photo? And do bystanders ever notice and point out the photographer to the subject? (Maybe I should say victim.) Is there any attacking that goes on? Scratching out of the eyeballs?

What do you do about pictures of strangers? Are they morally and ethically okay to take... without permission?

I do have certain friends that have been known to chase a stranger's car for miles just to get a clear shot of their license plate, but that's not a woman's backside in Wal-Mart at nine o'clock at night.

And now, back to the aforementioned fashion dilemma. I told Nate that was exACTly what I was taking about, but I hadn't mentioned that specific no-no in my post.
(There were actually quite a few things I didn't mention. I didn't want to make my post three miles long, which it easily could have been.)

For starters, this woman was wearing a dark black top and boots with very light khaki pants, which were baggy... but not on her rear. Light things when placed next to dark things tend to stand out, so where she should have been focusing on emphasizing her top half, her bottom is what called out to people saying, "hello! I'm right here!"

As for the boot, you need to wear pants that are somewhat fitted. Skinny, slim, or straight leg work the best. You can get away with a smaller bootcut, as long as they aren't leaving the telltale lumps. Wide legs just aren't a tucking-in option. Ever. Like 80's shoulder pads. This woman hadn't ever been told that.

And if I could have resolved my moral dilemma right there on the spot in a way that favored my camera, you would have a picture to see this for yourself.
Share this: