Rachel Callahan

And I Thought it Was Just SYMBOLIC…

August 5, 2009 Rachel Callahan Utter Silliness, Weird Strange and True

My Wedding Ring has magical powers.

I had no idea until today.

The prong on my engagement ring somehow got bent, so I dropped it off at the jeweler’s to get repaired yesterday. Since I had to take it in, we decided that Chris and I both needed newly re-coated and shiny wedding bands as well, so I left all three of our rings.

I walked out of the jewelry store thinking about how awkward, weird and naked I felt without my wedding bands. And it wouldn’t be until THURSDAY before I got them back.

I got to my car, and as I was getting Ali buckled into her seat, a truck with tinted windows slow-rolled by. The passenger window was down, and from the out-of-sight driver’s seat, I hear a low, growly, rednecky voice say,

“Lookin’ goooood, baby.”

He then proceeded to do two more laps around our parking lot aisle.

Ew.

The irony of his timing could not have been coincidental, despite the fact that he couldn’t possibly have seen that I had no ring on.

I guess that the Redneck Eye of Sauron can sense when I’m without my ring, and Billy Bob the Ringwraith immediately closed in on me on his steed, the Chevy Silverado.

Freaky.

I think I’ll stay indoors until Thursday.

The Season of Football. It Fast Approaches.

August 4, 2009 Rachel Callahan Football and I have a Complicated Relationship

To any neighbors passing by our driveway Sunday night, I’m sure it appeared as if Chris was in the doghouse:

Yes, in fact, he WAS watching TV in the driveway, extension-corded to the max. But I didn’t kick him out – I promise! He was out, on his own accord, putting the finishing touches onto his rigged-up-satellite TV System, preparing for tailgating.

And yes, he DID, in fact, order an Alabama-logoed satellite cover for his second-hand dish:

(And yes, it is, in fact, even made of football-jersey material.)

But luckily he hasn’t stolen the flat-screen out of our bedroom yet. After all, he DID purchase it specifically for football season. We just get the perk of having it in our room out of season.

On Monday he texted me with excitement in his letters. He received the beloved tickets in the mail – and was so excited that he finished his TV System “Just in time!!!”

Something tells me that he just MIGHT be getting excited about the impending ~~doom~~ football season.

Okay, yes, it’s true. I’m not yet excited about football season, just like last year. I used to enjoy football a lot more, but I’ve lost a lot of my spunk somehow.

I think I’ll blame it on Ali. You know how they say that some women lose their…err…well, certain “drives” after having a baby?

I think I lost my football drive.

However, one thing that I AM looking forward to is the first game of the season.

Well, not exactly the GAME, per say, but the trip that gets to go ALONG with the first game of the year.

a) It’s in Atlanta. I love visiting Atlanta.

b) It’s going to be a date weekend – Ali will stay with Gramamma, and Chris and I will go stay in a fancy hotel and have a weekend of wonderful togetherness in “The Big City”.

c) Like last year, it’s the same weekend as Dragon*Con. Which means more pictures and stories of crazies. I can’t wait!

d) The game will be indoors. Need I say more?

So, that’s where I am with relation to our state’s obsession. It’s 31 days until football season, and the only thing I’m looking forward to (so far) is the good excuse to have a long weekend date in Atlanta. Hopefully I’ll soak up some passion for the season soon.

How about you? Do you have more of the football bug than I do? Or would you like to join the Underexcited Football Wives Club? Or are you in the wrong region of the country to know the craziness of which I speak?

A Love Like Ours, It Just Can’t Be Beat.

August 3, 2009 Rachel Callahan Parent of the Year, Toddlers: The Experience

We took that picture at the park yesterday. See the love that is just emanating from … both… of our faces?

Yesterday morning, I was coming down the stairs, all ready for Church. Ali was at the bottom of the stairs, swinging on the handrail and looking adoringly up at me. In her sweetest, most loving voice, she said,

“I hate you, Mommy!”

Surely I misheard. She couldn’t POSSIBLY know that word.

“What did you say, honey?”

Lovingly, adoringly, “I hate you!”

“Baby, that’s not a nice word.”

She’s shocked and dismayed. Obviously, in her mind, it was a synonym for love.

“You should say ‘I love you Mommy’.”

“Oh. I love you Mommy.”

Hmmm…a rose by any other name just may not still feel like a rose.

Weapon of Mass Destruction: A Purple Balloon.

August 2, 2009 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Toddlers: The Experience

We went to an especially friendly grocery store the other day, and they gave Ali a purple balloon.

Sure, I was a bit worried, what with the fate of the last purple balloon (she still asks where that balloon went anytime we drive near the scene of the crime).

We left the grocery store, and perused the outdoor sale tables of the toy store next door.

A tall, fit security guard and another much-less-fit guy were standing nearby engrossed in conversation where the non-security guy was describing, in great detail and drama, a car wreck that he had just been in.

We looked in vain at still-too-expensive boutique toys for a few minutes, and then headed to the car, walking by the deeply-in-discussion pair.

My sweet, innocent, two year old’s balloon did what balloons do, and floated over and brushed up against the strong, brusque security guard.

He jumped.

Twice.

While simultaneously gasping and letting out girlish, panicked yelps.

Then, in quite the embarrassed stammer, said, “oh..oh..it was a balloon!! I’m sorry..I was really into that wreck story.”

Me, teasingly: “And you’re supposed to be a security guard?”

Still-a-bit-on-the-edge-of-a-heart-attack-Security-Guard: “I know..I know..”

Me: “Well, at least now I know how to rob whatever you’re guarding…bring in a hundred purple balloons and throw them at you!”

Luckily, he didn’t arrest me right there for being cheeky (yes, as a matter of fact, half of my vocabulary DOES come from “Thomas the Tank Engine” – quit bumping my buffers about it!)

So…anyone want to help me carry out The Great Latex Bank Heist?

Toddler Experiments Gone Awry

July 31, 2009 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Parent of the Year, Toddlers: The Experience

I have mentioned the miracle of our Small Group before, but just for a refresher, we have a group of six couples that meet every Thursday night. Between the six pairs, we have 14 kids and 2 more on the way.

(Obviously, Chris and I are in last place in this race. And happy to be there.)

But here’s the miraculous part: we all arrive to one of the couple’s house around 7:15pm or so, then put all 14 kids to bed, and then have our bible study/small group after they go to sleep around 8pm. We meet/socialize/laugh way too loud until around midnight, then we all wake up our kids, take them home, and put them back to bed.

And this actually works.

The only reason it does, I’m convinced, is because the group was started before #1 of 14 was born, and so from birth, one by one, all of our kids have become accustomed to this process as a weekly part of their lives.

So anyway, what with the rapid fire at which our group is shooting out babies (two in the past two months and two more before the year is out), we’re needing to look into consolidation of kiddo-sleeping-arrangements.

So, one logical pairing is Ali and AJ. They’ve been best friends since birth, are the same age, and it would be quite handy if they learned to sleep in the same room for vacations/spend-the-nights anyway.

So last night was the trial run.

David read them a bedtime story together:
And then we tucked them in.

Ali in her Pack and Play:
And AJ in her “Big Girl Bed” across the room: And, of course, we sold it to them as a “special treat” (for them, not for us, of course), and that they had to be wise if they wanted to do it again.

As expected, there was much talking. And then, screaming.

Me and Ashley and David all rushed upstairs (Chris wisely stayed out of the chaos).

AJ was screaming.

And it stank.

Ashley got AJ, and I told David, “I think Ali pooped.”

He said, “I don’t think so – it smells like a CAT went in there.”

Umm, our hosts don’t OWN a cat. It was most definitely my child.

So I changed the cat-poo-esque diaper while they calmed AJ down.

And the story, as retold by AJ, was, “Ali started to cry and then she didn’t. So I cried. I don’t want to sleep in here anymore.”

So, Week 1: back to Square 1. Next week, I’m sure, will go flawlessly.

On to Experiment #2: This week’s Mom’s Group was at Pump It Up. In my mind, I was picturing it being like Kid’s Gym, at which we had a delightful time. So I offered to give Ashley a morning off, and take Ali and AJ.

But I was wrong. It was two rooms full of huge inflatable slides, obstacle courses, and every other sort of contraption built for BIG KIDS.

Along with a maxed out room of aforementioned BIG KIDS. In all seriousness, right after we walked in, they posted the “We are full – take your screamin’, cryin’, disappointed kids elsewhere.”

We got in an inflatable for a minute with Luke. Although Luke and AJ had fun for about 30 seconds,

Ali, in spite of her trampoline skillz at home, wouldn’t let go of me.

And then, as more kids piled in like locusts during a plague, the reality of the potentially-lethal situation hit home to Luke and AJ:

So we quickly escaped, after no fewer than a dozen knock-downs on the way out the door.

AJ then wanted to play on one of the smaller slides. She couldn’t climb through the obstacle course to get to the top, so I was allowing her to climb up a little ways and then slide down.

Stupid, I know, but there weren’t, at that time, any other kids coming down.

And then it happened: this male ~~spawn of Satan~~ child comes barreling down the slide, STARING AT AND SMILING at AJ’s back and he AIMS to run SMACK INTO HER. I run, but not quick enough. He slides right into her back, full speed, knocking her backwards and down the slide. And she had no idea it was coming.

I ran over, grabbed her up, stared the kid down and said, “That was NOT nice” in my most ~~evil~~ controlled tone of voice.

I turn around, and his mother is walking up (she couldn’t have heard me over the blaring music and screams of various kids, including but not limited to AJ’s.)

She had seen what had happened and said rather judgementally and snottily, “I could see THAT one coming.”

Seriously? No apology – just a very-unveiled implication that I was careless? Nice.

So that was it. 10 minutes in, multiple falls, the girls were too scared to do anything – it was time to find new fun. I gathered up the girls, and as I was doing so, the employee in charge of safety wasn’t looking where he is going and ran right into me while I’m carrying AJ – so hard that we almost fell over.

As if I wasn’t already planning on leaving.

We went out, I told them that we had been there long enough to find out that it wasn’t age appropriate, and could I please have my money back. They must have been able to read my expression and quickly gave me my money.

So we, along with Christen, Luke, and Aubrey, AND Julie and her four (they were just getting there and we told them the bad news about it being maxed out AND a Danger To All Of Society) went to Chick-Fil-A.

Now I must admit: I normally do not care much for the enclosed scream-fest that is the Chick-Fil-A Playplace. But after Pump It Up, it was as calming as taking a Bubble Bath while being serenaded by a Strings Quartet.

(Although that’d be a bit intrusive for my taste.)

Anyway, the girls and their friends had a MUCH better time:
AND, as an added bonus, AJ was even able to meet her idol, SuperWhy:

She paid that kid no attention until he put on his mask and cape, and then it was all swoons, stares, and giggles as far as the eye could see.

Not that the poor kid is going to get a complex about just being himself or anything.

A Matter of Taste.

July 30, 2009 Rachel Callahan Don't Listen to my Fashion Advice, Shopping: A Girl's Best Friend, Toddlers: The Experience

**For the record, this blog post is Husband Pre-Read and Approved, and is only meant in fun.**

I am, in general, not that hard to please, but there are certain items that I have very particular taste about.

Bedspreads. I hardly EVER see one I like, so much so that I am surprised when I do. (And YES, for those of you who noticed the fact that my bed was unmade a couple of posts ago (ahem, Lianne) – just because I don’t MAKE my bed doesn’t mean that a nice comforter isn’t important to me.)
Jeans. (Obviously.)
And, shoes. Mine AND Ali’s. ESPECIALLY sneakers.

You see, sneakers are annoyingly bulky and inappropriately bold, in my humble opinion. In fact, I’ve bemoaned this before. So if I’m going to buy sneakers, they need to be understated, calm, and not make-my-thighs-look-huge bulky.

(Yes, that’s right. Shoes CAN make your thighs look big.)

And yes, these rules apply to me AND Ali.

Only problem is, Chris gets these “ideas” about Ali’s shoes.

He’ll see a pair of shoes, and decide that she NEEDS them. And, of course, they are always ones that I would NEVER buy her.

But, like our “Love and Respect” bible study is always saying (which is basically the Christian-ey version of “Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus”), “It’s not wrong, it’s just different.”

It’s not wrong. It’s just different.
It’s not wrong. It’s just different
It’s not wrong. It’s just different.
It’s not wrong. It’s just different.
It’s not wrong. It’s just different..

The last time this “difference” happened, it was at the Carter’s Outlet Store. He had been eyeing a pair of light-up, bright pink sneakers with flowers on them. I had clearly stated that I would never in a million years purchase that pair of shoes by telling him, “They’re okay….”.

He waited until I had to visit the Ladies Room. At the outlet center, you have to walk at least 10 storefronts away to the public restroom. When I returned, he had a guilty look on his face and a Carter’s bag in his hands.

And so, she got her first pair of light-up sneakers.

Obviously, that’s been a while back. So, of course, it was time for a sequel.

And what better opportunity than while Mommy is gone to Blogher?

Ali and Chris took a trip to Target. And, apparently, he had noticed the fact that we don’t have any sneakers that she currently fits into (too bad that those light-up ones got too small. . . I cried and cried. . . )

So they went and looked at sneakers. He later described to me the pair that he picked out for her, and they could not have HAD any more red flags of “I would totally hate them.” They sounded a million times worse than the light-up sneakers ever were (which, I have to admit, grew on me a bit over time.)

After the fact, I found them on Target’s website so that you could get a proper visual image. And the picture alone made me want to go dig out and kiss the former light-up sneakers:

Yes. Sparkles. AND hearts. AND butterflies. AND metallic. It was my nightmare pair of sneakers.

(If you’re thinking to yourself right now, “My, she’s picky”, just remember – this is one of MY quirky picky categories. You know you have them too. They may not be shoes, but you have them.)

So. He had painstakingly figured out what her current shoe size was, and found a pair that was the next size up.

(I guess he didn’t like how quickly I was able to “outgrow her” from her light-up pair.)

He tried them on her. And she mercifully matured in that very moment and did something she’s never done before:

She shook her head, and matter-of-factly said, “I don’t like them.”

And so, he didn’t buy them.

When he relayed their full shoe shopping experience to me, I felt an overwhelming rush of pride in, AND gratitude to Ali.

And, I promised Chris that I would buy her a pair of Mommy-Approved sneakers, as long as he promised to IMMEDIATELY cease and desist ALL shoe shopping.

Parking, Dating, and Baking the Deceased.

July 29, 2009 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Blogging: the therapy., Can I get a copy of that recipe?, Weird Strange and True

I’m still recovering from my Blogher Adventures, I must admit. I’m This week has been made up of day of dizzying tiredness, followed by a day of relative normalness where I thought I was recovered, only to be followed by a day of dizzying tiredness.

If you can have jetlag from flying within your time zone, then I have it.

So, that is my excuse for this very disjointed post of random bits and pieces of life.

First of all, I have a confession. I have a guilty conscience and I must purge it to find recovery.

I parked here at the Galleria today:

My self-justifications were as follows:

a) TECHNICALLY, I still have a small child. I’m not QUITE sure what constitutes a small child, but she’s still shorter than Jen from The Little Couple (whom I’m assuming isn’t allowed to ride any rides at any theme park), so that’s my justification.

b) It was ~~starting to sprinkle~~ raining.

c) There were TWO open spots. I only took up one.

However, despite my justifications above, I still find myself feeling guilty for parking in the special spot.

Maybe it’s because we’ve just advanced beyond the stroller-at-the-mall stage. Maybe my conscience is berating me that if you don’t have to lug a stroller in and out, you don’t deserve special treatment.

But the problem is that the sign is too vague. Most of these spots are only reserved for pregnant women (I remember parking in one of the preggers-only spots THE WEEK that I found out I was pregnant with Ali – and sticking out my stomach and putting my hand on my back as I walked into the store, so as to illustrate that I fully deserved my reserved spot.)

At any rate, this situation begs the question:

What constitutes a small child?

Or, more appropriately, at what point do you no longer deserve prime parking?

Secondly, since it has been a total of (gasp) SEVEN days since I have had Ali on my blog, so I figure I’m due a mini-mommy-story, right?

My friend Christen is relatively new to Birmingham, and she asked for a list of places that she needed to experience that are unique Birmingham cuisine. And for our lunch yesterday, she chose Chez Lu Lu, one of mine and Chris’ favorite haunts while we were dating.

And it is a very datey-feeling restaurant, as Ali and Luke discovered:

They had a lovely time getting to know each other better, perched atop their luxurious pillow seat.

But, thank goodness, Alil kept a tight grip on the pillow of acceptable-space-between-two-people-while-they-are-dating.

And, luckily, Luke is a real gentleman. He didn’t even attempt to steal her sippy cup.

And lastly, I MUST share with you this advertisement that was on the Coke machine when Ali and I stopped by work yesterday:

I personally don’t think that “Cemetery” and “Cookbook” Should EVER be used in the same sentence. Especially with a title like “A Taste of Yesterday.”

But, since it was, I just have to go there. Don’t hate me.

“Add a dash of cremated Oliver, followed by a pinch of buried Matilda. . . stir with a pall bearer rod, pour into a casket, and bake on LOW in the crematorium for 1 hour. Once baked, sprinkle heavily with a topping of cakey-dead-people-makeup. Serves Six, but most likely none, as there will be no appetites left.”

Welcome Home From Blogher, Mommy!

July 29, 2009 Rachel Callahan Blogher, Wordless Wednesday - as IF I could be wordless.

28 Things That I Learned At Blogher

July 28, 2009 Rachel Callahan Blogher, I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Utter Silliness

28. If you are sharing a hotel room with multiple roommates and all roommates are handing out different company’s swag, don’t think you accidentally entered a mini-warehouse instead of your hotel room upon arrival.

27. However, those same roommates may make fun of you if you talk in your sleep.

26. Especially if you talk about web page design.

25. Trying to bowl like a professional will not help your score be any more professional.

24. If trying to slide your leg like a professional, you will trip and fall if you simply emulate the RIGHT-HANDED person next to you and you’re actually LEFT-HANDED.

23. If word gets out that there is a bowling event full of women from out of town, it will draw out of the woodwork leering men who say they were sent there by the Mexican Tourism Board to learn about blogging. They will invade your bowling game. And they MIGHT even have business cards.

22. Business cards are cheap these days. Don’t believe them.

21. “Swag” does not necessarily constitute great free stuff. It actually means “Lots of stuff that will take up a whole suitcase and make your walk through the airport that much clumsier, and when unpacked, will clutter up your house and you won’t know where to put it all.”

20. However, it is a KID’S paradise.

19. A bag made out of a T-Shirt is quite impractical. Ever tried putting things in and taking things out of a neckhole?

18. The only piece of swag that you will use while at BlogHer is the First Aid kit of Band-Aids.

17. Fairies aren’t always “fairies”, if ya know what I mean.

16. Everyone has at least one fan. And wow it makes the heart feel good when ONE person in a conference of 1,500 finds you on the last night right before you’re about to head up to bed and is excited to see you.

Thank you for making me feel very nearly important, Caitlin!

15. One way to get TWO pictures of yourself in the top 23 photos taken by a photographer at a party called “Mommy Needs a Cocktail” is to be the one of the only ones in attendance NOT having a cocktail.

14. However, your picture might look awkwardly sober compared to everyone else’s.

13. If your husband says “those shoes look horribly uncomfortable”, then he’s probably right. Even if they felt perfectly fine in the store. Especially after making 59 laps around a cocktail party looking for a familiar (or just friendly) face.

12. The Riverwalk in Chicago is sticky if you walk it barefoot due to uncomfortable shoes.

11. Uncomfortable shoes are just made tighter and more uncomfortable with the addition of band-aids from a swag first aid kit.

10. One of the most fun things you can do in a Little Black Dress is play Wii.

9. Copper people are mean.

8. According to all six humor panelists in the Humor Seminar, one of the funniest sounds in the human language is a very foul curse word. And to be really and truly funny, you must use it liberally.

(I hope you don’t mind that I plan on staying merely “somewhat funny”.)

7. Tim Gunn is one of the nicest, classiest, most gracious celebrities ever. But he has a weird effect on the camera lens. I think it’s his magical powers to always look 10 pounds LIGHTER on camera – the camera lens reflects out to make everything around him look bigger.

6. In Chicago, they have signs that would NEVER be in necessary Alabama.

5. BlogHer may be the only place in the world where women don’t find it revolting and disgusting to wear a McDonald’s bag on their head, and even find it “The Thing To Do”.

4. Walking a red carpet and getting photographed by the Paparazzi is fun. I don’t know why everyone complains about it.

3. Apparently, it is perfectly socially acceptable to put “Adult Electronic Devices” in the same swag bag with Children’s DVDs about Ballerinas.

2. The best friends that you will make are the informal-passing-time-while-waiting-in-line-to-meet-a-celebrity type, not the begrudgingly-let’s-get-to-know-each-other-like-we’re-supposed-to-even-though-we’re-all-introverts-type.

1. An innocent button that says “You Go Girl” may not just be an uplifting message of positivity: It may be an advertisement for a FUD, or a female urination device, for which women can pee while standing. DO NOT WEAR BUTTON.

What Happens When I’m In Charge.

July 27, 2009 Rachel Callahan Blogher, I embarrass myself just for your amusement., I'm a Glutton for Adventure

My husband and I get along amazingly – we seriously rarely argue or disagree. (Which is one of the reasons that I Missed him so badly while I was gone.)

However, we approach a lot of things very differently. Especially vacation planning. But because ~~I’m lazy~~ I like to keep things flowing smoothly, I always let Chris do things his way and I go along with it.

However, I was in Chicago. By myself.

And the stark differences between MY way and HIS way were really fleshed out quite obviously.

I decided to skip the after-lunch session of seminars on Saturday, because there wasn’t anything that sounded beneficial to my blogs, and I wanted to get out and walk around.

Specifically, I wanted to go the “The Ledge” on the Sears Tower:

I adore heights.

Now, if Chris were planning such an outing, these are the steps he would have gone through:

Research end destination on Internet.
Mapquest it.
Decide on the best means of travel to arrive at said destination.
Find out if and how much it cost.
Find out how to EXACTLY get to it once inside of the building.
Read other people’s opinions on it.
Find restaurants nearby at which we might want to eat afterwards.
Research other tourist destinations to make sure that this one was the best, and also to see if there is anything else worth seeing while out.
Figure out the least crowded time of day to go.
Find out if we needed to take motion sickness pills or possibly extra oxygen for the height that we would be traveling to.
Print ALL of the above information out and insert it into a 3 Ring Binder (And I am NOT kidding – we ALWAYS have a “Vacation Binder”.)

Here’s how I went about it: I had been out on the Riverwalk the night before and had seen the Sears Tower, and that it appeared to be only a block or two away:
So I just set off walking.

I like adventure, you see.

On the way, I saw this guy:

Only problem is, he saw me too:

His bucket said “Take Pictures, Leave Donation.” I assumed that suggestion was meant for people who got their picture taken WITH him.

However, he did not. He yelled at me, whistled at me, and in general cursed me until I was out of sight – literally several minutes.

Dear Mister Copper Cowboy: Yelling at Southern Women in a rude and angry manner will get you nowhere.

So I kept walking, crossing busy streets, crossing the river, rubbing more and more blisters on my toes, and taking pictures of my destination as I got closer and closer:

And then I arrived, and saw the sign:
Yeah. I’m an idiot.

I MIGHT not be a good person to use as your Life Line if you’re ever asked to identify Important American Architecture.

So I looked around, trying to spot a taller building:

But there were too many tall buildings in the way.

At this point, I felt totally exhilarated by the hilarity of my adventure, even though I wasn’t meeting my end goal. I mean, how many times will this ever happen to me in life?

Not many, if Chris has anything to do with it.

So I pulled up the address of the Sears Tower on my phone (which is barely internet savvy), and it was South Wacker Street. I looked around:
West Wacker Street and East Wacker Street.

A lot of Wackers, just not the right Wacker.

My phone wasn’t nearly savvy enough to pull up directions, so I ended up finding a bench and calling Chris, in an uncontrollable fit of giggles at how ludicrous I knew he would consider my lack of preparation to be.

Later that night, when my friends and I went to Greek Town, my wiser-than-me friend Cara showed me the real Sears Tower:
They’re practically twins, don’t you think? Obviously, Mr. Trump was copying Mr. Sears.

I really did love the adventure of setting out with no information. But I must say that the most embarrassing part of the adventure was that I had told a bunch of people where I was headed as I left the hotel. They asked, “Really? Is it close enough to go to?”

And I had answered, “Yes! If you go out to the Riverwalk and look right, you can see it!!”

I sure hope none of those people tried to emulate my adventure.

Or if they did, I hope they don’t remember who gave them the idea.