Can I Get An Amen...

I'm pretty sure I complain about this every year.  Does anybody else have the trouble that I do finding something appropriate to wear to the first football game of the year?  It is such a pain, and it stresses me out every time.

For those of you who live in cool weather climates, this isn't a problem.  For the residents of the Dirty South, it's a massive issue.  I don't know about you, but I hate buying super summery stuff this late in the fall, especially when Labor Day is this weekend.  On top of that, all stores are pushing their fall/winter merchandise, which I won't be able to wear until at least October because of the heat. 

My criteria for football wear:

1.  In the heat I prefer a dress--nothing binding, lots of breathing room.

2.  Something that doesn't require "special" undergarments.  Who wants to deal with that all day?

3.  An outfit that isn't too short, but not too long.  I'm not that tall.

4.  Something that I can wear with fairly comfortable shoes, but I'm willing to sacrifice some comfort for  some cuteness.

5.  And the kicker for this week--they've asked MSU fans to wear white.  Since I'm chasing Sam at the tailgate, I can't even go into the game, but I'd like to at least try to be in the spirit.  I'm hoping cream will count, because it's all I've got.

Next week they're asking for people to wear maroon, which is a whole 'nother bag of tricks.  I wish other schools knew how good they have it when trying to buy something cute in their respective colors. 

Blue? Easy.  Red? Beyond easy.  Purple? Not quite as easy, but doable.

Maroon?  Wow.  Just wow.  I usually end up in something magenta and call it a day.

If anyone out there has some secret football-wear store, fess up.  And don't tell me to wear a jersey with jeans.  Homegirl doesn't do that. 

Hail State!

Ain't Life Grand...

A few weeks ago, we packed up and headed down for our annual trip to the Grand Hotel.  We've gone the past 3 years, and we love it.  When I'm down there, I sometimes feel like I'm on a second honeymoon--except that I'm with a 2-year-old.  My fabulous in-laws were gracious enough to take us down, babysit a lot, and foot the bill.  We booked a ton of pool time and quite a bit of lying around time.  I even got a massage courtesy of the husband.  Lazy days = happy mom.    

We fed the ducks...

 

...and fed them some more...

...and a little bit more just to make sure they were full. 

Like his Elvis face?  This was before he broke his grandparents' camera.  Thank you.  Thank you very much.

Family pic.  Excuse my frizziness.  It was humid. 

One more

Now you know where Sam's curls came from.

2009

2010

Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the candlestick...

I've mentioned before that I'm a part of a bookclub.  I was invited by a friend a couple of years ago, and through this group I've made some amazing friends.  I cannot express how lucky I am to call all of them my friends.  We get together once a month, gossip, imbibe, and discuss the pick of the month.  Good times. 

A few months ago, one of our number mentioned that she had hosted a Murder Mystery Party for some friends, and that it was a lot of fun.  It didn't take long for us to decide that we had to have one ourselves, and that it was a mandatory event for all spouses. 

It wasn't fun.  It was epic--one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, and Anthony enjoyed himself, too.  (So much so that he stayed in bed much longer than I did the next day.) I wish I could give a play-by-play of the night, but I would probably get a lot of people in trouble.  Let's just say there were some people not exactly on their best behavior.

We chose the Jersey/Mafia Wedding kit.  There were gold chains, fedoras, fake earrings, bridesmaids' dresses, terrible suits, and a lot of "bumpits" going on that night.  We even had a wedding cake.  Everyone had his or her own character and script to follow.  It was ridiculously fun.  Again, I would post more pictures, but I value my friends, and I need to protect the innocent.

 

I feel like this pic is safe enough.  From left to right:

Stacy Sultry, Grandma Selma, Gina Giovanni, and Darlene Simpson.  Yes, I'm wearing black gloves. 

It's Dangerous Being a State Fan...

Remember my son's obsession with cowbells? (See below.)

I always knew that they should probably be classified as weapons.  I fervently believe that they can do just as much damage as nunchucks. We have several bells in our arsenal, and one of them is an actual bell from a cow--that's a story for another day.  Anyway, it's heavy.  A couple of weeks ago, Sam got it down from its spot on the bookshelf and promptly dropped it on his toe.  Cringe.  The toe turned black within an hour or so, and we had the pleasure of heading to the pediatrician's.  Our doc informed me that he could relieve the toe pain by making a small hole in Sam's toenail.  Double-cringe.   I was the lucky lady who got to hold down my child during the process, which actually wasn't that bad.  They used a small cauterization tool, and I'm told it doesn't hurt.  Let's hope so.

Bottom line--watch out for those cowbells.  You can lose a toe.

Communal Cowbell

As many of you know, my husband is a long-suffering, extremely passionate MSU fan.  Some people hunt, some people play music, Anthony follows all things in Maroon and White.  I like to read; Anthony likes to tailgate.  We've followed our dawgs to a College World Series, a Cotton Bowl, and almost every venue in the SEC, among other things.  I've watched him have the time of his life when we win, and I've watched him throw--and break I might add--a cell phone out the window when we lose.  (Which, let's face it...the past few years we've lost a lot.)  This passion could affect Sam in one of two ways:

1.  He'll be just like his father.
2.  He'll resent it and attend school somewhere else out of pure spite.

We attend an Episcopal church.  Before communion, they chime a bell at certain periods when presenting the Eucharist.  When they chimed the bell this past Sunday, Sam very loudly said, "I hear a cowbell."

I'm going with option one.