Rachel Callahan

Jumping Into The Future

June 28, 2009 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Parent of the Year, The Blissfulness of Life

We have been discussing whether to get a trampoline or a swingset for a while now. We finally decided on a trampoline because:

a) Ali really seems to love all things gymnastics.
b) We can play with swingsets at any park.
c) It was surprisingly much cheaper that a swingset.
d) Chris had one growing up and loved it.
e) I always wanted one growing up because I wasn’t allowed to play on them.

Which brings me to an interesting aside. I find parental safety rules quite hilarious, because all parents have different (and quite contradicting) ideas of safety.

For instance, Chris had a trampoline. I wasn’t allowed to even jump on them because my Dad deemed them unsafe.

HOWEVER, Chris would have NEVER been allowed to ride on a motorcycle with anyone, yet my Dad would take us flying, airborne, and WAY faster than the speed limit on his motorcycle.

Granted, he also taught motorcycle safety courses and had ridden as a policeman on a motorcycle. I don’t know if that makes it safer, or if it just makes it more ironic.

Anyway, you get my point. Parents are funny. And I can’t wait until we’re old enough to have opposing safety regulations with Ali’s friend’s parents. I can hear it now: “But Mooooommmmm, AJ is allowed to ride HER skateboard in the road!!!”

Oh, the joy.

So. Back to the trampoline. We finally bought one on Friday night, in the box, and decided that we would put it together Saturday morning.

Of course, Ali woke up Saturday morning, and the first thing she said was, “I would like to jump on my trampoline now, please.”

So to help pass the time for her and hopefully keep her entertained, we got out her pool and a ton of pool toys, and set her up to play:

Which was, I’m pretty sure, the most brilliant move we could have made. She can play in her pool, by herself, for hours.

Or, in a more mathematical equation, she can play in her pool for the exact amount of time that it takes two people to assemble a trampoline, minus 15 minutes. And those last 15 minutes will be sure to be filled with exclamatory statements of exactly HOW VERY DONE she is with her pool.

The trampoline came like this:

And included a very intimidating 96 springs:

Chris and I got all of the base pieces laid out:

While Ali was quite happily and uncaringly playing in her pool.

Then we began assembly.

We worked great together as a team. We did the springs together, the legs together –everything. We were feeling really proud of our teamwork, until we realized that we made one tiny little mistake. . .

We put the netted enclosure on inside out.

Oops.

To fix it, we would have to undo almost the entirety of our last two and a half hours of work. Undo every spring, every eyelet hook-in. . . all of it.

Luckily, I’m married to an engineer. And if there’s one thing engineers know how to do, it’s how to engineer AROUND a screw-up. So he figured out a workaround, and we went with that.

So don’t come over and sue us because our enclosure is inside out. You WON’T be invited back.

We got it all put together, and, like a good Daddy, Chris gave it the first test jump:

And when it was deemed safe, Ali and I gave it a try:

As much as she is obsessed with jumping in her bed, she got a bit spooked.

Of course.

That always happens after we expend amazing amounts of energy to make something special. So we sat, and laid on it, and took our time. . .

AND we didn’t let her off when she begged to get out.

And sure enough, in about 10 minutes, she was having a perfectly glorious time:

But there’s one thing that can always make a new toy more fun:

A best friend.

AJ came over Saturday night, and they jumped, and ran, and played rosies, and crawled until they had both sweated out 99% of their body weight.

Yes, this is going to be a fun, fun family activity.

Until, of course, my Dad is proven right, and someone gets hurt.

But, for the record, Trampolines are made MUCH safer than when we were the kids – there is no way to fall out, or to get tangled in the springs.

So there. We made a logical decision and this in no way is me living out my rebellious Junior High desires.

And with that, I’m going to stay out past curfew tonight.

The Secret Lies with Charlotte Pink Dial Foamy Soap.

June 27, 2009 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, The Magical Perfume, Utter Silliness, Weird Strange and True

So if you’ve been around for a while, you might remember that my husband has a crush. If not, go click on that link and catch up. The basic idea is that there is a perfume, somewhere out there in the world, that my husband smells periodically, and finds it the most romantic aroma in the world.

So, obviously, I NEED this perfume.

We searched high and low for it at Christmastime to no avail. And, as luck would have it, he hasn’t smelled it since (as he has told me that he now understands the gravity of the situation and is willing to ask a perfect stranger, at the risk of looking like he’s trying to pick her up, what perfume she is wearing).

However, we have our first clue in this treasure hunt of alluring aroma.

We had dinner at David, Ashley, AJ and new baby Tessa’s house Monday night. Chris met us over there after work, so we were in separate vehicles. When he got home, he told me, “I have a lead.”

He then went on to explain to me that on his way home, he was “picking his nose or something” and he caught a hint of whiff. . . very similar to THE whiff.

He smelled his fingers, thought about it, smelled his fingers, and thought some more. Then he remembered that he had washed his hands in David and Ashley’s kitchen. We both remembered that they had pink foamy soap (I am quite partial to foamy soap, so it always makes a good impression on me when people offer it).

So he told me that I MUST call Ashley the next day and find out what kind of soap it was in order to help us in the narrowing down of scents to identify THE scent.

So I called Ashley, she laughed (obviously), and told me that it was Pink Dial foamy soap, but she didn’t know the flavor. I remembered that it was a funny shaped bottle – not the traditional Dial foamy soaps, of which we have all over our house.

So, with knowledge of color and bottle shape in mind, I set out on a search.

Wednesday:

Publix. They had the funny bottles, but only in white soap.

Thursday:

Walgreens. They had the regular bottles, but no funny bottles.
CVS. They had absolutely NO Dial hand soap AT ALL. And I thought they were my favorite. Sheesh.

Friday:

Target. They had the white funny bottles like Publix, but still no Pink Dial Foamy Soap.

And then finally, on my FIFTH stop in the search for Pink Dial Foamy Soap, I went to Wal-Mart.

And there it was. Standing tall like the Holy Grail of Soap:

The mystery flavor: Cranberry.

I of course bought three bottles. Because one, somehow by buying three bottles, it made FIVE stops seem more justified. Two, because if it takes that long to find it, it must be worth buying in multiples. And three, because it was under $2.

So I brought it home. I stared at it: Could this innocent looking bottle be the secret key to unlocking the mystery that has haunted me for half a year?

I washed my hands and smelled it. Nice, fruity, relaxing. Sure – I could wear that.

Then when Chris got home, he washed his hands. He smelled it. He said it needed to wear off a little first. He continued to smell my hands and his hands at 30 minute intervals throughout the evening.

Finally, he declared that this was, indeed, the same soap that Ashley had, and it could, indeed, be a clue.

So what’s the next stop?

Well, I suppose we find the snootiest, most high-falutin’-est perfume counter lady in Birmingham (or a special trip to Atlanta, perhaps?), walk up to her, squirt $1.97 soap in her hand, and say, “Find me a perfume zat smells like zees.”

The Deadliest Catch…terpillar?

June 26, 2009 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Just My Luck

As I’ve mentioned before, my parents live about 20 minutes out of town in the “country”. They have seventy acres of land split between them and three other families.

Despite the way it sounds, no, it’s not a compound. So don’t go reporting them to the FBI. Anyway, if you did, Mom and ’em could take ’em.

Not that it’s a compound.

But if it were, it would make a good one, because it is surrounded by a mountain on one side and a creek on the other three sides.

So, due to that, there is plenty of wildlife to go around. And with wildlife, of course, comes dangerous wildlife.

Sure, they’ve found snakes of all sizes, but not as often as you’d think. In fact, the most surprisingly poisonous creatures to be found have been. . . caterpillars.

Who knew? I always assumed that caterpillars were innocent little creatures. I had no idea that they could be so cruel and vindictive.

A couple of years ago, I got one of those hair-raising calls from my Dad: Your Mom’s in the ER, she’s been bit by something, nobody can figure out what, but she says that the pain is a “10” on a 1-10 scale, and no pain medicines are relieving it.

Mom had been picking up piles of brush that afternoon, and whatever stung or bit her did it on the inside of her arm, so it was assumed that it was in a pile of brush pressed up against her arm. Of course, they were thinking snake, but it didn’t look like any snake bite they’d seen before – it was a double row of red, raised dots, something akin to this:
Mom had to stay in the hospital overnight, and the doctors could never determine what stung her. However, one of her property-sharing neighbors did some research and they were able to determine without a doubt that it was the very unique sting of this creature:The most poisonous caterpillar in the world, a Puss Caterpillar. According to www.bugsinthenews.com,

The larval stage of this insect is a small, wooly, pussycat-appearing caterpillar covered with rows of long, venomous spines embedded in a coat of soft, cuddly hairs. The toxin usually, but not always, produces an immediate onset of excruciating, unrelenting pain, radiating to the lymph nodes in the armpit or groin, and then to the chest. Though rarely a true medical emergency, these symptoms have the feel of a serious, life-threatening event. It is common for victims to visit emergency rooms.

The underside of the caterpillar looks like this:
And besides his tentacles under his fur, he stings with his toes, which is apparently what got Mom and left the double-dotted row of stings.

It took Mom quite a while to completely recover from the sting, and has since kept her eyes out for furry, sweet looking caterpillars.

Ali and I have spent several mornings in the past couple of weeks riding around in Mom’s new golf cart (purchased due to her latest injury, which happens to be only the second time I ever remember my Mom going to the ER) and picking blackberries, blueberries, (one) rasberry, and vegetables on the ~~compound~~ property.

On one of the jaunts, I was deep into a blackberry bush when my gloved hand brushed up against a HUGE and fascinating caterpillar. He was black with white spots, and then he had branch-like tentacles coming off of him, and in between those, he had starburst-like tentacles.I had a rubber glove on to minimize the blackberry thorn injuries, so I pulled him off along with his branch to show him to Mom. We stuck him in a bowl, took him inside, and Googled him.

And guess what?

He is the SECOND most poisonous caterpillar in the world. Right behind the aforementioned Puss Caterpillar. . .

And you wanna know how freaky-homeschool-Mom my Mom really is? She kept him, made him a little home of blackberry branches, is feeding him bugs and misting him with water in hopes that he will spin himself into this:
Ew. I sure hope he doesn’t have the side effect of making Mom’s arms as hairy as whoever is holding THAT specimen.

So, to recap, I have now effectively ensured that none of you will ever want to visit my parents.

Oops. Sorry, Mom and Dad.

Bits O’ (Girl) Life

June 25, 2009 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life

I had another day of frantically cleaning out the fridge and freezer AGAIN. There’s another smell. I don’t know why smells have been bothering me so much lately (or why our house has been plagued with smells), but it’s going to drive me mad!!

However, in cleaning out the freezer, I found out that Chris was right about an important point. He’s been joking with me for months about there still being frozen breast milk in the back of our freezer. He’s suggested it for ice packs, for emergencies when we run out of milk, for the munchies, you get the idea.

I keep telling him that there is NO 20 month old breast milk in our freezer.

But he was right. Oops.

I found three bags of the stuff – waaay back the the freezer.

Needless to say, we NO LONGER have breast milk in the freezer. That 18 Ounces of “Liquid Gold” is WAAY past it’s prime.

Ali and I had some time to kill the other day, so we went to the mall. And I must say, the first sight that hit my eyes about made me scream “Holy Hallelujah!!!”:

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen (or really just ladies, because I’m sure I lost all the guys at “breast milk”), a “short skirt” is now defined as a skirt that hits the knees!! AND that was in the JUNIOR’S department!!!

I have to say that I LOVE that long dresses in general are back “in”. I’ve just never been a fan of my legs (especially knees and above). I wore my first dress purchase in years on Sunday (my “Pretty Pretty Princess Dress“), and I have to say I am thrilled that I can get away a dress like that without being mistaken for someone who dug something out of their early 90’s pile of clothes.

Except for one tiny little thing.

They could REALLY use some help in marketing this rebirth of the long dress.

What fashion guru in a tall, tall office building somewhere in Paris came up with the term “Maxi Dress”?

Seriously?? Because when I hear the term “Maxi”, that’s NOT the first thing that comes to mind.

Maybe it got lost in translation. Maybe in French, the term “Maxi” does not implicate feminine products at all.

Now, back to our mall trip, now that I’ve most definitely lost that last guy hanging on through this post.

I was in search of a new purse. I love my purse, but I’ve finally decided to jump a bit more into Mommyhood and combine carrying items. Now that Ali doesn’t need a large diaper bag (until we potty train, I guess) and doesn’t need a stroller when we are walking at the mall or other long distances, it has become a nuisance to carry my purse,

AND her lunch/spare diaper bag,

so I’ve been considering getting a purse big enough to put it all in one.

NO, this doesn’t mean I’m going to give in and get a minivan to go with my Mommy purse. I’m just trying to lessen the number of items that I have to carry around.

And I found the perfect one. It’s Franco Sarto, which I have always LOVED the design of their purses. And this one is nylon, so it’s easily wipeable/washable for sippy cup spills, AND it has two distinct compartments: one for me and one for Ali. AND lots of pockets and zippers:

Yes, it’s loud, but I like loud purses, most of the time. Plus, when Ali saw the plain black one, she informed me authoritatively, “I don’t want to like that one.”

So, that’s it. A random meandering through frozen breastmilk, poorly named clothing, and Mommy purses. What? You didn’t expect cohesiveness, did you??

Magic.

June 24, 2009 Rachel Callahan "Deep" Thoughts by Rachel, The Blissfulness of Life

I remember being very young. . . still small enough to ride in the seat on the back of my Mom’s bicycle. We would ride, along with my older brother on his own bike, a few blocks from our house to Marsh’s Bakery. We would go inside and stare in amazement and delight at all of the delicious looking treats.

Then Mom would give us the amazing news we were hoping to hear: “You can pick one thing out – whatever you want.”

I always chose the most brightly colored pastry in the cabinet – the Frog Cookie. After receiving our choices with excitement, we would ride our bikes to the nearby park and eat our magically delicious treats.

20+ years go by. . .

Ali and I found ourselves in a bakery this week. She was stunned and amazed by all of the delicious looking pastries in the cabinet. After letting her run back and forth a few times oohing, ahhing, and pointing with delight at the amazing assortment of goodies, I told her that she could pick out one treat – whatever she wanted.

She looked up at me with stunned, wide blue eyes. She couldn’t believe her amazing fortune.

Much like myself at her age, she picked the brightest treat in the cabinet, except this one was a bright orange smiley face cookie. The man behind the counter got it out for her, put it in a little baggy and then leaned all the way across the counter, stretching as far as he could to reach her little hand.

She looked up at him with beaming eyes and said, “Thank you!!”.

As wonderful as it was to be a kid and get to experience the magic and wonder of receiving an unexpected treat, it is infinitely more wondrous to be the one to get to create the magical moment.

I’m pretty sure that moments like these make parenting as magical and wondrous as being a kid ever was.

Cosmetic Mystery

June 23, 2009 Rachel Callahan Wordless Wednesday - as IF I could be wordless.

Wha. . .?
Are those lipstick marks on a SIPPY CUP?!?!

(runs off in search of culprit)

Aha! Caught!
I especially like that perfect lipstick-heart on her nose. I don’t think that could be done if one tried.

But, unfortunately, she doesn’t seem very penitent at all.

I’m sure that THIS felony will be repeated.

Check out everyone else’s Wordless Wednesdays at 5 Minutes for Mom.

A Meandering, Long-Winded Giveaway Winner Announcement

June 23, 2009 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests

Today is the day to announce the winner of the June Appreciation giveaway!!

I plugged you all with your appropriate extra entries into my nifty excel spreadsheet this morning and let it pick a random winner, and the winner is Laura!

Congratulations, Laura!

I can’t wait to design your blog! And in the meantime, you all need to go visit Laura’s blog – she’s a PhD Student at Yale studying Chemistry – now if that’s not a unique blogger, I don’t know what is! She’s got some great posts!

And I feel a special connection with her, because she decided to go back and read my ENTIRE BLOG (she might be the only person to ever read it all – I don’t think even I have done that. You know, I sleepwalk through some posts) earlier this year while she was studying for her PhD Entrance Exams (for stress relief, I suppose), AND she still passed!!

So I take personal credit for helping her study, of course. Because I KNOW my Chemistry. Especially since I managed to make it through High School AND College without ever taking a single class of the stuff.

At any rate, I’ll be sure to show y’all a before and after picture once I finish her design.

And, if you didn’t win and are still interested in a blog design, let me know.

Also, I like the idea of doing blog designs as giveaways, because I love doing them but don’t have time to start a business at this point. BUT at the same time, it’s not really fair to do that for all of my Reader Appreciation Giveaways since the prize wouldn’t apply to all of my readers.

SO what I was thinking, is that for all of my Reader Appreciation Giveaways for the near future, you could either a) pick the prize offered (usually a gift card of some sort) OR b) you could choose a custom blog design. Does that sound workable? Or does anyone else have a better idea?

At any rate, Congratulations, Laura!!!

Father’s Day Makes Me Look Bad.

June 22, 2009 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Toddlers: The Experience

Ali and I started off the day yesterday by dressing up in our Pretty Princess Dresses for Daddy:
Or, more accurately, I threw on a dress and went to get Ali up for Church, at which point she about fell all over her crib with excitement, saying “MOMMY has a pretty pretty princess dress on!! I want to wear a pretty pretty princess dress like Mommy!!!”

And so, we wore them together.

After Church, we had lunch at our house for both of our families. While Chris grilled out a triple-meat-man-feast (HIS choice to cook on Father’s Day – I’m not that terrible of a wife), Ali was discussing with the whole family what their favorite colors were.

She was careful to ask everyone individually what they were, and would make a mental note of their favorite color, along with their shirt color. (She thinks the two should always be the same, so she’s a bit judgemental if your shirt and your favorite color don’t match.)

Then Mom asked her what Mammaw’s favorite color was. Ali looked at Mammaw,
And then without asking Mammaw, without hesitation and with authority said, “White!”

Of course. Because she obviously DYES her hair that color.

So I’m sure you’re wondering if Oreo has been peeing on my bed since Mom came over for the first time. Thankfully not yet, because my Mom is still being a wuss and using her walker.

However, besides the positive fact that it doesn’t upset our sensitive cat, Ali absolutely LOVES it.

Seriously.

Hours of entertainment.

It makes all of her gymnastic dreams come true. . .

. . . and even makes a nifty Big, Big, Bridge for Gordon and Spencer.

Yes, Ali thinks that Gramamma plus her Walker rocks. I’m pretty sure she’ll be disappointed when Gramamma heals up and doesn’t carry a gymnastics kit around with her.

Mom also brought her wheelchair, which Spry Mammaw decided to give a try, to see what it would REALLY be like to be old:
She obviously loved it. I’m pretty sure she’s going to feign a broken hip any day now.

Speaking of love, I’m pretty sure that Eli could live on dirt cake, and dirt cake also lives nicely on him:
(Chris ALSO made dessert. Am I a horrible wife or what? Or he’s the most low-maintenance Father on the face of the planet. For the record, he wanted to do that for his Mom’s recent birthday. I’m saying that so that not QUITE as many of you judge me. So stop judging me. I made the corn on the cob. And cut the watermelon. Oooh and I mixed the tea.)

And now, for the one and only photographed token Father of the Day, here’s my Dad playing with his two favorite Grandkids:
So that was me yesterday. I didn’t cook, nor did I photograph the honored Fathers appropriately, but hey – at least I wore a pretty pretty princess dress.

Life Lesson #660: Why To Put The Lid Down.

June 22, 2009 Rachel Callahan Toddlers: The Experience, Utter Silliness

If you have a singing-when-tinkled-in potty for potty training purposes, always close the lid.

And especially don’t leave the lid up while you’re showering.

The shower steam will build up in the potty and make it think that someone just tinkled, thereby giving you a loud, rousing song of accomplishment and congratulations.

Which will scare your still half-asleep wits out.

On the other hand, it might help in the waking-up process.

The Woeful Tale of Laguna Seca Girl.

June 20, 2009February 17, 2014 Rachel Callahan Dad, Guest Post, Weird Strange and True

This is a guest post by my Dad. He told me this story a few weeks ago, and I have been cracking up about it ever since.

In a sympathetic way, of course.

So I asked him to write it up for me, which he graciously agreed to do. I find it fitting and an honor to have my Dad as a guest blogger on Father’s Day weekend!

A bit of background: Among other professional pies that he has his hand in, my Dad is a Tech Inspector with the American Le Mans race series. He has also had such adventures as rebuilding and navigating antique race cars from one end of Mexico to the other (several times!!), and one very grand 45 day race from Beijing, China to Paris, France (in a 1950 Ford – they went through India, Iran, Tibet. . .you name it!). I am definitely going to be bugging him for more guest posts in the future!

By Vic, aka Rachel’s Dad

Have you ever had one of those days? You know what I’m talking about. Nothing seems to go right. The toast lands butter side down, or the socket you are using (sorry girls, this might just be a guy thing) falls off the ratchet and rolls to the exact geographical center under the car you are working on.

Yeah, one of those days.

Whenever I think I’m having a bad day, I remember back a few years ago to a young lady I “met” at the final American LeMans Series race of the year, at Laguna Seca Raceway in Monterey, California.

When I say “met”, well, let me explain.

I was walking through the crowd behind the grandstands as I headed to the starting grid for the pre-race activities. You know, when they do the flags ceremony, the military fly-by and the “gentlemen, start your engines!”

There was a set of stairs off to the right leading up to the backside of a raised podium where the celebrities, dignitaries and the like would do their thing. A young lady was ascending the stairs wearing a sash, some type of blouse, high heels, a tiara, and some very tight white pants.

As she reached the next to the last step, where her feet were about eye level with the milling crowd, the zipper on the back of her pants decided that enough was enough, and decided to let go! There had been no panty line because, well, you get the picture. She immediately turned her back to the wall to hide the “situation” and our eyes “met”. Of all the people in the crowd below, she looked me straight in the eyes before disappearing into a sort of anteroom behind the podium.

It embarrassed me, so I could imagine how she must have felt.

I worked my way out onto the racetrack and took up my position at the start/finish line for all of the pre-race activities. When it came time for the National Anthem, who do you think was going to sing?

Right.

The television cameras were doing a close up and her image was on the jumbo-tron TVs all over the racetrack, not to mention live broadcast over most of the western world! Well, she did a spectacular job, that is, up till the last note, when she choked.

You could see and feel everyone in the crowd trying to help her out, but no, she just flat couldn’t be helped. Luckily a couple of F-18s did a low fly-by and the TV cameras moved to them. I felt so sorry for her! As I watched the tears come down her face, she looked me straight in the eyes, again. I mean, I must have looked like “Where’s Waldo” in the enormous crowd, but our eyes met!

The race went off relatively smoothly, ending up four hours later, well after dark. I was assigned to go to the winner’s circle and secure the class winning cars to be sure they were not modified in any way before post race inspection. I have learned over the years just how far back in the crowd to stand to stay out of the spray of champagne, but still be in control of the cars.

Well, to my surprise, (and dismay), there she was again, on the podium to assist in ceremonially passing out the trophies. She had straightened the tiara, apparently fixed the zipper and removed the streaks of mascara from her face.

I say to my dismay, because I had already been admiring the beautiful cut glass trophies that were to be awarded to the winners.

What could go wrong here?

Well, it did.

The very first trophy she handed off slipped from either her or the recipient’s hands and crashed to the floor, with the expected results. She kept a large, rather pained smile until she looked out into the crowd, and, yes, our eyes met! She immediately burst into tears and ran off the stage.

I’ve been back to that event many times, but have never seen that young lady again. But her image is burned in my mind forever:
(I black-boxed her face so that she could one day, maybe, just maybe, forget about this woeful day.)

Whenever I think I’m having a bad day, all I have to do is remember what a bad day can really be like!

Thanks, Dad!! And Happy Father’s Day!!