Wednesday, February 8, 2012 at 5:00AM Reagan’s facebook status from the other night.
Also? I’ve not met this “Big Mike” kid but I TOTALLY want to have him over for dinner now.
My Favorites, Reagan Thursday, January 26, 2012 at 5:00AM I get to go prom dress shopping tomorrow.
Wheeeee!
While my opinion is not Reagan's favorite, she has gotten past the stage where anything I like was an automatic "Ew". She'll at least consider what I say now before she disagrees with me.
She is, however, a big fan of my bank account so I get to go.
For about a month she's been pinning dresses on a Pinterest board and as we were looking them over the other night, a pattern became clear: she likes vintage, classic looks like this one.
Isn't it gorgeous?
When you're 5'10" though, shopping vintage via the internet is a little risky. Women used to be shorter and I worry that it would come and the fit would be all wrong. Plus the price on vintage is a bit more than I want to spend for a prom dress.
On the other hand, when you live in a town that only has two malls the selection is a little limited and no one wants to show up in a dress that someone else has on.
The horror!
We're going out tomorrow to see what's available around here and try things on to see what styles look best on Reagan but she already had her eye on one we found online. We googled "vintage inspired prom dresses" and found this great site called Blue Velvet Vintage that has a lot of new dresses that look like old dresses.
This one is my favorite.
Just look at the back!
It is amazing.
Too bad, I don't have a prom coming up.
Reagan has her eye on this one.
It's black lace over pink and I think it has a vintage feel, but is a lovely modern interpretation of this actual vintage dress that I found the first vintage site.
So pretty.
Of course, if Reagan truly wants vintage, I could see if my mom still has this classic look in the basement.
Hmmmmm . . . on second thought I don't think I was really going for "classic". That dress screams 1987.
Reagan Sunday, January 15, 2012 at 7:02PM Reagan and I have a long standing weekend routine of snuggling in on the couch, firing up the DVR and watching Say Yes To The Dress. We prefer the New York edition, but will happily watch the Atlanta version as well and love the Bridesmaids episodes. I consider this educational programming because we have learned a lot from watching SYTTD. Important life lessons like:
I get teary nearly every episode for one reason or another, though the one story angle that gets me every time is The Bride Who Must Shop Without Her Mother. I swear, the producers of this show have combed the nation for young women whose mothers have died and lined them up to capture on camera the emotional journey of trying to pick out a dress without their mamas.
There was yet another story like this the other night when Reagan and I finally noticed something curious. Whatever dress the bride likes best is the one she's sure her mother would have picked and when she comes out of the dressing room sniffling this conviction, everyone with her rushes to agree and that's the dress she gets.
Sometimes, dead mothers are more helpful shopping for dresses than living mothers.
With that in mind, I want to make sure my bases are covered in case my back cancer or possible kidney tumor spreads and finally kills me. You can't be too careful, and I want to make darned sure neither of my daughters pick a hoochie-mama wedding dress and blame my poor, deceased self for it. So here's the advice I would give them
1) Please be more concerned with picking out your groom than your dress.
I know you want to put on the pretty dress and have the beautiful wedding, but all of this fun and festivity is only going to last a day. You'll wear that dress for a few hours, but the man you're with when you take it off is supposed to be with you the rest of your life.
2) Despite what people may tell you, your wedding day is not all about you.
This union will join two people and their families and friends and go on to create an entirely new family. Please keep all of those people in mind. Don't be a diva or I'll come back to haunt you.
3) Please do not feel like you have to wear my dress.
Sentimentality and tradition are part of every wedding, but unless long sleeves with puffy shoulders and gigantic butt bows are back in fashion, you should not be stuck with my 1991 choices.
4) Don't spend money you don't have on this dress.
You are lovely girls and would look beautiful in burlap bags. You don't need to spend thousands of dollars to be gorgeous. If in doubt, see #2 and remember that five years from now none of your guests will remember much about your dress but if you serve them rubbery chicken in an over heated reception hall or have a scene with your new sister-in-law they'll talk about it forever.
5) When choosing a dress, "sexy" is not the adjective you're aiming for.
Beautiful, elegant, timeless, classy, lovely and flattering are your goals. As long as your dress meets those criteria, whatever it looks like go ahead and tell everyone that it's the dress I would have picked.
6) Never mind what your father says, pink is a fabulous color for a wedding dress.
7) Don't take your groom shopping with you and do NOT show him pictures after you've chosen your gown. Your wedding day should be the first time he sees it.
It's a tradition that exists for a reason. It will be hard to take his breath away if he's seen you try it on, get it fitted and had a picture of it on your facebook profile for six months. By all means, flip through bridal magazines and get his input on likes and dislikes before you shop, but the actual purchase should be a secret until the big day.
8) Be kind to your bridesmaids.
Their dresses should be affordable and flattering. If you've lined up a group of different body types, consider different dresses in the same color. Again, see #2.
9) I would tell you to get the long veil, but always remember that your best accessories are good posture a genuine smile.
10) In the right setting, I kind of like the idea of cowboy boots with your dress and if you're on a beach you can go barefoot but I would NEVER let you walk down the aisle in sneakers. Whatever shoes you choose, make sure they're comfortable.
Whether I am with you or not, I want you to enjoy this time. Follow God's leading, embrace your life and see your decisions through with conviction. Look forward to the future and know that whatever you do, whatever choices you make, I love you and always will.
Monday, November 7, 2011 at 5:00AM Well.
Yesterday was just awful.
I spent Saturday night in Reagan's bed while she slept on the floor with Jones who was too weak to get into her bed. Throughout the night he was having small seizures and she was getting up every couple of hours to throw up because her stomach was so upset from the stress.
By morning all three of us were worn out - Jones the most so. I talked Reagan into taking a shower a little after dawn to try to ease her nausea and while she was gone, Jones died.
You would think that having buried three previous cats in the last eight years that by number four, it would be a little easier. I wish that were true. If anything, this was worse because along with, "Why didn't God heal him Mommy?" was "Why did God let this happen again?"
There are so many answers to those questions and not a single, solitary explanation ever brings peace. Death is the only certainty in life and yet it always catches us by surprise. We are hurt and confused when life ends and always feel like it's the wrong time.
Why is that?
We put Jones' body in a box in the garage and Rich left to play guitar for church. I got the kids settled down and then just had to go back to bed. On top of the all-nighter, I have a cold and I was wiped. When I got up, there was no choice but to get started on housework.
Not even death can stop laundry.
In fact, this particular death made a mountain of it. Because we don't know what caused the cat's illness, I kept making the kids change clothes after they held him to try to protect the other pets and the sick cat in Reagan's bed meant every stitch of her bedding had to be washed too.
And of course we needed groceries.
And dinner had to be made.
I had the better end of the deal though. When Rich got home from church he did grave duty which makes me glad I'm not a man. While he dug the hole, the kids wrote letters to Jones and I ran out and got some air-dry clay. The each made little plaques and we put Jones' paw print on them. Then we gathered and the kids read their notes and we prayed and cried.
It's fortunate that I had already made chicken soup. It was needed last night.
Bedtime was awfully quiet without Jones' customary "come to bed NOW" yowl. Reagan slept with me because her bed was too quiet and lonely.
Today we have to get back in the swing of things. You can't stop death, but you can't stop life either. It goes on, even when you don't want it to. I'm worried about Reagan. Jones was a one-person cat and Reagan was his person. She's going to miss him a lot.
A deep and heartfelt thank you for all your kind comments and notes left on the facebook page. She read them all and I truly think the well-wishes and kind words did her heart good.
Y'all are the best. :)
Saturday, November 5, 2011 at 2:22PM 
Reagan's cat, Jones, is a funny looking guy. He has a crooked tail at the end of his scrawny body. He tends to walk around with his tongue sticking out just a little bit, drawing attention to the fact that his fangs are too big for his mouth and hang out; giving him the look of a cross-eyed Siamese vampire.
We kind of like ridiculous animals around here (thus, the Poodle) so we think it's great that he's a little bit weird.
When Reagan's last cat died in the fall of '08 after she ate a string that got entwined in her intestine, Reagan chose Jones because he was 10 months old and she was afraid that since he was so old for a kitten, no one else would love him.
Jones needed Reagan and, still sad over the death of Jelly Bean, Reagan needed him right back. Because he has an irrational fear of The Poodle, Jones spends most his time upstairs in one of the girls' rooms with our other Siamese, Ju Ju Bee. Every night about 8:30 though, he gets brave and comes downstairs to find Reagan and let her know that it's time for bed NOW.
Have you heard a determined Siamese yowl? It commands attention. Part meow, part police siren, Jones' yowl can be heard throughout the house until he finds Reagan. Then he stands in front of her and scolds her until she either picks him up or goes up to her room for bed. It is exasperatingly amusing.
On Tuesday, Jones started sneezing. The next day his eyes were kind of gooey too. By Thursday, he wasn't eating and that night he suddenly started holding his head at a weird tilt and walking like a drunk. I left him at the vet first thing yesterday and she spent the day running several hundreds of dollars worth of tests - with no conclusion.
She's guessing it's either a nasty virus or a tumor on his brain or pancreas. Jones stayed there overnight on IV fluids to be watched. Bed time was sad last night - and awfully quiet.
This morning it was determined that he was stable, but there was really nothing more the vet could do for him. He was stronger, but still not eating. We paid the bill and brought him home. Right now he's in a large dog kennel in Reagan's room. We are force feeding him with a syringe and waiting to see if he gets better or . . .
Two words I hate today: "fair" and "hope".
"Fair" because it doesn't exist but the idea of it has my daughter feeling desperate and picked on. If this cat dies, it will be her third since 2006. What are the odds of that? It certainly is not "fair". This situation makes her feel like God either doesn't hear or doesn't care.
"Hope" because it hurts. Every time Jones seems a little bit better, Reagan gets that look on her face that gets dashed when he gets a little bit worse - and ultimately I'm afraid her hope is just going to be crushed.
Yet another situation not covered in parenting handbooks . . .
Any words of wisdom out there?