Rachel Callahan

Diary of a Tired Mom.

February 16, 2015February 21, 2015 Rachel Callahan "Deep" Thoughts by Rachel, A Day in the Life, Diary of a Tired Mom, Kids: The Experience., Parent of the Year

Why is the most overused song lyric in the history of the world “All Night Long”? The phrase spans decades and genres, has been in more songs than the words bae, shawty, and boo combined, and IT IS A LIE.

You know what happens all night long?

Not what they’re talking about.

No.

Uh Uh.

The things that happen all night long are stomach viruses.
And raging diarrhea.
And colicky babies.
And rocking inconsolably screaming babies.
And feeding newborns.
And neighbor’s car alarms.
And backaches.
And croupy coughs.
And work, when there are impossible deadlines.
And you know what else happens all night long, sometimes, if we’re lucky?
SLEEP.

THAT’S what music should be celebrating.

Here’s a list of things that do not, in real life, happen all night long:

1. Sex,
2. Partying,
3. And getting down on the dance floor.

I want to know what superpower Dads possess that allow them to completely tune kids out while trapped in a moving vehicle.

I hear every word, every breath, every candy wrapper dropped to the floor, every silent bad attitude, and certainly every argument. If Chris is trying to talk to me and there are conversations going on in the backseat, my head nearly explodes with the inability to process both at once and greater inability to only listen to one or the other.

Yet the children can be saying, “Hey Daddy? Hey Daddy? Hey Daddy! DADDYDADDYDADDYDADDY” and I finally have to say “CHRIS. The children are trying to talk to you. PLEASE ANSWER THEM SO I DON’T JUMP OUT OF THIS CAR RIGHT NOW WHILE YOU ARE DRIVING SEVENTY MILES AN HOUR ON THE INTERSTATE.”

“Oh – sorry! I didn’t hear them.”

Whatever that special DNA twist is, I will pay anything for it.

Can I get on a transplant list?

My husband is the sensitive sort, rarely offending and almost always spoiling me in every way.

But he’s still a man.

And he doesn’t understand all things of women. So sometimes, I attempt to explain The Feminine Plight to him.

A few weeks ago, for instance.

We were driving along, and I mentioned, sadly, that I had started my period.

He thought for a second, then made a practical and completely unemotional remark about how I should feel better before such and such future plans.

I grew silent, brooding about his lack of empathy toward the currently occurring crushing of my internal organs.

That night at bedtime, I tried to teach him a new level of understanding women.

”Here’s the thing, babe. A period is always a tragedy and should be treated as such. It doesn’t matter that it happens once a month and that us women usually know it’s coming. It’s still a tragedy. Every time, no matter what. It is not an item to be practically planned around, it is an item to show mournful sympathy towards.”

I could see the cogs in his brain jerking and steaming, trying to process what exactly it was that I expected from him.

“So….I need to…mourn it…every time.”

“Exactly.”

“Is this something I should share on my Facebook, perhaps? I could have a status like, ‘It sure is sad to see this Uterine Lining go. It was like a member of the family.”

“Well, that would show a lot of respect…but probably not.”

“Or what if I named them like storms? You know, in alphabetical order each year. This month’s could be Uterine Lining Ava, and next month could be UL Belinda.”

“You might be missing the point a little bit….”

“Would referring to them by number be better? ‘UL12’?”

”You know what. Never mind.”

There is nothing more detrimental to a parent’s mere existence than that light-sensitive Melissa and Doug puzzle.

You know the one. The one with the animal sounds.

The pieces get lost within seven minutes of obtaining ownership, leaving those shining dots just waiting to register every change in lighting in your life.

Then the kids leave the puzzle in your bedroom floor, so the rooster alerts you to daybreak. Followed immediately by the pig. And then the kitten and dog and duck, in a chorus of murderous cacophony.

Or that stupid cow moos in the middle of your One Quiet Moment Of The Day and nearly makes you wet your pajamas.

(Because you never got out of your pajamas.)

(Because you were rocking that baby. All night long.)

Here’s a list of other things that make parents consider buying a one-way ticket to Fiji:

1. Play-Doh. Because why did they have to make it so crumbly? WE HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY TO OVERCOME CRUMBS. Use it.

2. Balloons. Children become unnaturally attached to balloons, somewhat like Wilson the Volleyball in Castaway. And no matter how shrunken they become, how long they’ve been missing their helium, and how annoyingly they float whimsically all over your house, your children will insist on keeping them.

You know what I do? I murder balloons after bedtime. There is nothing more satisfying than taking a steak knife to a balloon and then carefully hiding the evidence.

3. Glitter and Glitter Glue. They are the Gift from Satan that never quits giving.

4. Bubble Bath. It’s the ultimate tool in a Stalling Child’s arsenal. It stretches out bath time, makes it harder to rinse their hair than finding the pieces to that blasted Melissa and Doug puzzle, and intrinsically allows them to stay up later. Don’t let them use it against you, parents of the world.

5. Toys that use up 90% of their battery the first day of use and then hobble along on the remaining 10% for the next six years, consequently singing woefully off-tune and with painfully distorted cadence. They plan them this way, you know. It’s a conspiracy theory I could believe.

6. All Children’s Music. Except for Silly Songs with Larry.

7. Paint. It’s the item that they always want to pull out at the most inopportune time, and it never goes where it’s intended. And does children’s paint ever dry? No. Because they pile it on in the thickest, goopiest, most bleed-through-the-paper way possible.

8. Capri Suns. Did you know that it is scientifically impossible to stab that stupid straw into the thinnest part of the foil pouch without causing a tiny, sticky geyser? Because it’s true.

9. Stickers. No matter how conscientious your child is, those stickers are magnetically drawn to hardwood floors.

10. ALL Sippy Cups. It’s twenty-freaking-fifteen. We can’t invent a sippy cup that doesn’t mold?

May you all get some sleep tonight. All night long.

Gifts for the Lego Lover

February 13, 2015February 13, 2015 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Lego Love, Shopping: A Girl's Best Friend, Stuff I like

Thanks to a swarm of Christmas and birthdays, I’ve been tipped off to, have searched for, and have randomly found a plethora of Lego-Themed gifts. A bunch of it showed up in Chris’ stocking, to which he kept exclaiming, “How did you even find this stuff??”

So, in order to help you all find Lego goodness, here’s my comprehensive list of Lego, Lego-ish, or Lego compatible goodies I’ve discovered lately.

1. Oyo Sports Lego Sets – a friend messaged me on Facebook about these one morning in December. I woke up, looked at my phone, read her message, and literally ordered them before I got out of bed. As expected, they were pretty much my Best Present Ever for Chris. How else could I combine the two most integral components of my husband’s personality? Yes. Fully licensed Alabama Football Lego-compatible bricks.

They also have many other college football teams (including Auburn), along with NFL teams, hockey, and Baseball.

But Alabama Football was enough for my family, and they are enjoying their sets immensely.

I got Chris two Endzone sets and a couple of extra players (yes, they have actual players – but only the ones who have graduated off the team – stupid NCAA rules and all), but I was distressed over the fact that they had no mid-field sets. Of course, right after Christmas, they released mid-fields. I’m sure I will be buying him one for Father’s Day or some other such excuse.

(But he’s still fully entertained with his endzones.)

2. Buildable Mug – I bought one of these for Chris, waiting expectantly for what all fantastic creations he’d build onto his morning coffee.

Image via Amazon

He loves it and consistently drinks his coffee out of it,

but has yet to build a single blasted creation onto it – His mug still looks like this:

I can’t say that I’m not disappointed. HORRIBLY disappointed.

But I shall continue to wait in hope and expectation of greater things still to come.

3. For Birmingham Lego Lovers, you absolutely MUST procure family Lego Vulcan T-Shirts.

I cannot express how excited I was when I happened across these shirts by Optik Citizens on Instagram – to combine our city’s unique pantsless statue with our love of Legos…it was a moment of inspiration.

Aren’t they fabulous?

They also have stickers for cars and computers or whatnot. To order any of these, you will need to email the artists directly – ocbham (at) gmail (dot) com – especially for the kid’s shirts, which had to be specially ordered (but still only $15.) But they’re easy to work with and quick to fulfill orders.

4. Lego Card Making Kit – Seriously I am on a roll with combining passions. Ali loves Legos and crafts, especially sending people cards. So I knew she needed this set.

Image Via Amazon

…Though I haven’t actually seen any cards come out of production yet – I think she may have hidden them all in one of her many undisclosed hoarding locations.

5. Emmet Jacket – we bought this for Noah for our Halloween outfit set, but it has become his favorite winter accessory. He would rather be Emmet than “boy-wearing-nondescript-jacket” any day.

And I don’t blame him one bit.

6. Unikitty Crocheted Hat – Speaking of our Halloween outfits, Ali has also become quite accustomed to being Unikitty – I hope that she can break the trend before spring, or her head is going to mildew.

We got her hat custom-made at a very reasonable price by a long-time blog reader, Stephanie, who has a serious crocheting talent. I texted her a picture of what I wanted, and she made it within a week – without a pattern. She has the Unikitty hat available in her shop here. She also makes a wicked awesome Lego Scarf, if you ask nicely.

7. Silicone Lego Molds – These can be used to make Jell-O or Candy – both of which I’ve done and my children have adored. Click on either picture for more details:

You can also use the molds to make soap, candles, crayons, or anything else you can think of to melt and pour in them.

There are now also sets with bigger molds that would be great for making cakes – I might try that next. Or I might just stick with….

8. Lego Head Cake Pops. Made by my good friend Jamie (and shippable anywhere in the U.S.), these dreamily delicious treats are my family’s favorite cake. Chris has gotten them in his stocking multiple times, and Noah had them for his birthday a couple of years ago. Did I mention they’re adorable?? Especially when your husband custom-builds a stand for them.

Jamie takes special orders and can literally make anything into cake pops – from snowglobes to tacky Christmas sweaters to the poop emoji. She also recently tried her hand at Lego Movie Cake Pops, and they were fairly brilliant.

Image by Jamie

9. Lego Minifigure Sets – My husband readily admits that minifigures are the best part of Legos. I’ve already bought him all of these sets, or I’d totally keep buying him one a year. But they’re his fave, and the characters included are quite fantastic.

Image Via Amazon

10. Lego Candy Blocks – Noah’s favorite treat, he gets these anytime he can find them. In fact, it may be one of my chief bribery tactics to get him to go for a run with me…

Image Via Amazon

11. Lego Brick Slippers – We do not own these because we are not a slipper family, but if perchance you are a slipper family AND love Legos, well, here’s your stocking stuffer.

Image Via Amazon

12. Lego Crayons – if you don’t have time to make your own but need them for a birthday party, then Amazon has you covered, as always. And who doesn’t want to color with a Lego minifig head?

Image via Amazon

13. Lego iPhone Case – If my husband didn’t insist on as slim of a case as possible, he would definitely have this. I kinda love it and I’m the only non-Master-Builder in our family. Just think of the handle you could build to keep your iPhone comfortably snug in your hand!

Image Via Amazon

14. Lego Candles – No Lego Birthday party is complete without these. Enough said.

Image Via Amazon

15. Lego Business Card Holder – For the man that’s not afraid to show his true passions in the workplace, this should go right next to a photo of him making out with his wife.

Image Via Amazon

What great Lego-Themed gifts have you found?

She’s That Kind of Mom.

February 11, 2015February 10, 2015 Rachel Callahan Just My Luck, Kids: The Experience., Parent of the Year

Sometimes you get lucky, and it’s sunny and 60 degrees on a Saturday in February. It might even look miraculously green outside, as if your dream of stepping into a time machine to take you to Spring actually occurred.

You get even luckier when you have the time and the forethought to go on a hike with your family at a fantastic nature park in your city, including countless mining ruins and treehouses with views as beautiful as your heart could want.

You might find yourself taking dreamy photos of your kids walking along fantastic abandoned railroads, wondering why every family in Birmingham doesn’t get their family photos taken here instead of the overused Railroad Park and Morris Avenue.

You think your day has been made when your children willingly pose, looking appropriately ecstatic for the cool find and beautiful day and just simply being in your delightful company.

Then, as you turn to move on, your husband points out that there’s actually a pretty fantastic photo op happening behind you. And you take your favorite picture of the year, which becomes your new iPhone lock screen photo.

The ethereal beauty of the moment overwhelms you, and you’re so happy that you brought your family on this adventure.

Your family continues on the hike, everyone happily enthused about the day’s events.

Until.

Your four year old accidentally finds – and becomes one with – the one and only mud puddle in the entire park.

And you realize that you were wrong.

THIS is the kind of photography you were born for.

Those other pictures now mean nothing to you compared to capturing the slumped shoulders of utter despair,

The deathly wails of muddy underpants,

The racking sobs of being one with the earth in an extraordinarily unsettling way,

THIS is your moment.

Because, quite simply, you’re just that kind of Mom.

Disclaimer: No children were [permanently] harmed in the making of this blog post. Car seats, however, are a different matter.

Top Secrets Learned about Rachel.

February 10, 2015February 10, 2015 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Guest Post, I embarrass myself just for your amusement.

Here’s the thing. When you’ve never met someone in real life or even had a single phone conversation with them, but then come and live at their house for five days, you learn a lot about them in a short amount of time. In a normal friendship, these peculiarities are spread out over such a long period of time that the person in question might seem normal. Perhaps not as much in the friendship of Heather-The-Blog-Reader-From-Mozambique and myself.

Ergo, this list was born.

A guest post, by Heather The Missionary.

19 Secrets I Learned about Rachel.

1. Her basement is a death trap.

2. She bathes her kids even less than she claims.

3. She has serious angst when hitting publish on her blog posts.

4. Hospitality is not her gift. (But it is her husband’s.)

5. She enjoys listening to “Dreaming with Jeff” and can be found late at night giggling along to his “soothing” voices.

6. She drinks energy shots like a teenage boy.

7. She enjoys a good fruity cocktail at the end of a long day (but then.. who DOESN’T?)

8. Her back porch is an accident waiting to happen (yet she sends her hubby out there to BBQ.)

9. She has pet names for her SUV (and all SUVs like it.)

10. She doesn’t know why anyone reads blogs. For real.

11. It’s a good thing she homeschools because she would NEVER have her kids at school by seven every morning! (Eight would be pushing it too.) (And also nine.)

12. If she had a chance at another career…. Graffiti Artist is a completely viable option.

13. She loves to show off all things southern – especially food! But only if she doesn’t have to cook it.

14. She stinks at fast forwarding in a manner that doesn’t frustrate the entire room.

15. She’s having an affair with Chick-fil-a.

16. She is the strangest mix of introvert/extrovert…Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde only neither side of her is a psychopathic villain.

(That she knows of.)

17. She freaks out in the middle of the night approximately one week before she has visitors and sends long, rambling disclaimers via Facebook about how she is not as much fun in person and really quite high maintenance.

18. She runs over a lot of curbs.

19. She collects lint from the dryer on her windowsill.

Bonus one added by me…

20. She simply cannot HANDLE a list of 19 items. 19?! An odd number, a prime number, AND one away from a nice even number? Unacceptable.

Valentine’s Day For All.

February 8, 2015February 8, 2015 Rachel Callahan Picture Birmingham

Most of you know about my side project Picture Birmingham – it is a site where I sell items made from my photography so that I can give all of the profits to The WellHouse, a ministry that rescues and cares for victims of human trafficking in the United States. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, get caught up here to find out how it was exactly that God made it so clear to me to start this ministry. Thanks to many of you, over $6,000 has been donated to The WellHouse so far.

There are currently 20 ladies at The WellHouse – a record number of women finding healing and recovery at their facilities. One of the hardest types of healing that these ladies must travel through is emotional healing – to understand that God loves them and that there are people who love them, without wanting anything in exchange. Trusting people, trusting love, and trusting affection is excruciatingly difficult to relearn. Or, perhaps for some of these women, to learn for the first time.

So for Valentine’s Day, I want to do something special for these ladies. I want to give them a Valentine’s Gift that will let them feel cherished. I’m looking into different items to include in these gifts, and am definitely open to suggestions and donations.

To make this project possible, I’m offering a discount code at Picture Birmingham – please consider using the code SHARELOVE to save 10% off of everything in the Picture Birmingham Shop, and as always, 100% of the profits go to The WellHouse, but in February, we will use those funds to send a special gift of love to the twenty ladies at The WellHouse. So you could buy a gift from Picture Birmingham for someone in your life, and the money which you spent will go to buy a gift for someone at The WellHouse. Gift Multiplication!

In the shop, I have canvases, note cards, prints, and sets of prints. I even have a few 2015 Calendars left that are deeply discounted. If you’re wanting to buy a Valentine’s gift for someone in your life but not sure what they want, I also have gift certificates!

And for those of you that aren’t local, although a lot of the pictures are from Birmingham, many are of other places, or are just serene water scenes (like this one at Callaway Gardens),

cool waterfalls,

…and even a Castle.

If you would rather just donate to help with the Valentine’s Gifts for the ladies at The WellHouse, click here. Or if you have items that you would like to donate to be included in their gifts – jewelry, skin care, clothing accessories, or anything else you think they would like, please email me at rachel@picturebirmingham.com – I would love any ideas or donations!

Thank you so much for your partnership thus far in this project – your support and encouragement has been invaluable!

When Readers Come to Stay.

February 6, 2015February 6, 2015 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, I'm a Glutton for Adventure

When it comes to me being a real person (which I am, by the way,) there are several different kinds of blog readers.

1. The Voyeuristic – This blog reader sees me out, watches me while I eat an entire meal, studies my interactions with my family, and then happens to mention two weeks later that they were sitting right next to me at dinner that one night.

This person scares the crackers out of me. Because then I have to frantically try to remember back a fortnight and analyze what kind of mood I was in, did my children have boogers smeared across their faces, and was I wearing leggings as pants (after a run of course), and did it fall into that half-week where I had a zit so big that I looked like Cyclops’ favorite girlfriend?

But then again I can’t be too indignant because I’ve totally done the same thing.

2. The Opportunistic – When this blog reader sees me out, they come over, say hello, and introduce themselves.

I seriously love it when this happens, because I get to meet someone new, and oftentimes put a face to a collection of comments that I have tucked away in a box in my mind. I remember most fondly the blog readers I’ve met like this.

3. The Aggressive – This blog reader contacts me and asks if we can meet up. At the park, at lunch, or to photograph sunsets. Or even out of state – I’ve met blog friends in Atlanta, Mississippi, and in various cities that I’ve travelled through.

I also adore this blog reader, as I so enjoy the relational side of blogging, but don’t always have the time or mental capability to reciprocate by asking them on a second date, so then I feel horrifically guilty and torture myself for being a terrible friend.

4. Heather Neufeld.

Heather earned a category all to herself because she asked if she could come stay in my house.

For five days.

From Mozambique.

Although we have never had a single phone call (this relationship is so twenty-teens), Heather and I have been chatting for a few years now, she’s shared stunning stories of her and her husband’s missions work in Mozambique (she’s actually Canadian and is home on furlough so technically she only flew from Canada to see me…but it was in the works before that), and I’ve gotten to see all of her amazing pictures and read more stories on her blog.

Without meaning to, she’s challenged me in much-needed and impactful ways – there have been a few nights when I’ve been fed up with all the things that went “wrong” in my day, and we’ve started chatting on Facebook, where she offhandedly mentions what happened in her world that day – mothers whose babies died in childbirth because the hospital staff was on strike and refused to perform an emergency c-section, school children getting eaten by crocodiles, fires threatening to overtake their missions compound….ours is a vital perspective-righting relationship for me.

I’ve been able to send her clothes for her kids, especially after they adopted Ryan, their second, and he came to them with no clothes, in a country where there’s not exactly a way to buy decent children’s clothing (I consider using my bombtastic shopping skills at my local outlet mall as a ministry – if I can send $600 worth of clothes for less than $100, I figure it’s better than sending that same missionary $100, plus I got the gift of going shopping.)

They have no electricity. (They have a generator.)

Or any sort of postal service. (She drives two full days to another country to get her mail.)

But they do have dang good internet service and even 3G in the middle of the river where her husband hunts those crocodiles to keep them from eating the locals, so internet relationships are kinda perfect.

So anyway.

When Heather asked if she and her oldest child, Tendai, could come visit us, I went to Chris and said, “Hey…uhhhhmm….I have a blog reader that wants to come stay with us. For….five days. How do you feel about that?”

Since he’s been around the internet block a few times with me, and he’d heard many of Heather’s stories through me, and his gift is hospitality (mine is not, which I was sure to tell Heather multiple times as a disclaimer and warning), he readily agreed, and helped me plan their visit and changed the sheets and other stuff that I would never think about.

Because my gift is not hospitality.

I picked Heather and Tendai up from the airport on Thursday afternoon, we immediately went to eat at Nabeel’s, because we take all people there first to fully experience the wonder that is Birmingham Greek Culture, and within minutes of arriving back at home, our kids were bonding like kids do these days – glowing faces.

We took them to our small group that night, where Heather shared all of her best missionary stories, and then we left the next morning for a road trip.

Because Heather had a list of things I’d blogged about that she wanted to experience. Specifically: Unclaimed Baggage. In fact, I’m nearly positive that she actually came to Alabama for Unclaimed Baggage and I was just a good excuse to make that happen.

It did not disappoint. I swear the iPad prices get lower every day…

The kids were fans, too, finding the most interesting items, and not getting any dread diseases, since Unclaimed Baggage dry cleans everything.

The climbing apparatuses were also a hit.

(This behavior is not recommended by nor endorsed by Unclaimed Baggage.)

But whatever it takes to keep happy kids throughout a shopping experience is what I recommend and endorse.

…Including blowing kisses back and forth from this precarious situation.

For the overnight portion of our road trip, we stayed at my favorite, The General Woods Inn. There is something magically calming about their porch – I am re-amazed by it on every visit.

Tendai got her exercise,

Noah showed his disdain for Orange Juice,

And all three kids got to experience the grace of being Southern Royalty.

We then drove 30 minutes north to Chattanooga to visit the Tennessee Aquarium.

Tendai and Heather enjoyed the touch tanks, although my kids preferred keeping the relationship between themselves and sharks as observational only.

The penguins were my favorite, and I think they were Noah’s, too.

(And yes, I did buy the girls matching Tea Collection dresses. We were, after all, going for “All of Rachel’s Favorite Things” trip. And the matching was beyond adorable.)

We arrived just in time for the Scuba show, and the presenter blew kisses in response to Tendai’s affection toward him.

They saw butterflies,

Waterfalls,

And got to actually enter into the Spider Crab exhibit.

The aquarium was definitely a happy place for all three kids, and delightfully uncrowded.

After eating lunch and checking out some local graffiti,

(Where we were all disappointed at not finding a single Moist,)

We rode the Incline Railway – because you can’t go to Chattanooga without going on the world’s steepest railroad.

I didn’t have a good enough seat to get a decent picture this trip, but here’s one from my last ride up in 2009:

After having to duct tape my car back together, because that’s what you do in Alabama when a piece decides to fly away on the interstate,

Photo by Heather

We headed back to Birmingham, where we did a whirlwind tour of all of my favorite things: city overlooks, Silvertron, went to my church, ate Jim N Nicks BBQ, went to the Outlet Mall, ate twice at Chick-fil-a (GUYS – Heather didn’t even know how to pronounce Chick-fil-a. It came out something like “chick-PHIL-uh”….needless to say, her life is changed), watched her first Super Bowl while eating Conecuh Sausage (okay the Super Bowl is not on my favorites list), had family lunch where we ate my Mom’s Chicken Pot Pie and chocolate cake, had a successful spotting of several Moist tags, and took the kids to McWane Science Center.

Photo by Heather

Although a bed of nails is always fun,

The bubble room ended up being their favorite, where we got some really fun pictures,

and slo-mo video.

And of course, we forced her to take proper Bama gear back for the entire family,

And we went blue jean shopping – because, after all, she’d originally found my blog via my butt – like everyone else.

Which, may I say, was shockingly the thing she was most surprised about.

“I can’t believe you’d take me blue jean shopping!”, says Heather.

“I let you fly all the way around the world and stay at my house for nearly a week and the BLUE JEAN SHOPPING is what surprised you?!”, said I.

Although I immensely enjoyed my time with Heather and am always challenged and motivated by her perspective of the world from living in a third world country, the kids were the most precious part of the trip. They bonded so tightly that they will all be talking about each other daily for years.

Ali’s already written Tendai a pen pal letter,

And Noah ended each night of the stay with a giant hug.

One night, they were yelling back and forth between their rooms after being put to bed.

“GOOD NIGHT, TENDAI!!!”

“I LOVE YOU, NOAH!!!”

“I KNOW YOU SO MUCH, TENDAI!!!”

I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I kinda loved it.

And this is why I blog. Because what other medium can create such fantastic friendships – for me and my kids – from literally the other side of the earth?

But don’t all book your trips at once. It’s time that I go back to being an introvert – at least for a little while.

Returning to Eufaula.

February 4, 2015February 4, 2015 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, I'm a Glutton for Adventure, The Blissfulness of Life

A couple of weekends ago, we returned to Lakepoint State Park in Eufaula, Alabama, because I tend to get antsy in January. After surviving the holidays and both my children’s birthdays, I find myself desperately needing to leave town.

Plus, for the last 365 days, my kids have begged me at least once a week to return to Eufaula, despite my repeated explanations that it will never snow in Eufaula, ever, ever again.

But I love the fact that our previous trip had been such a magical experience for them – especially considering how it started.

Despite that, though, I toyed with leaving them at home. I hadn’t had a night alone with Chris in a couple of months, and we were desperately needing some quiet time to reconnect.

Step in: amazing grandparent. Mom and I concocted a plan: she and I and the kids would go down Friday morning, then Chris would come Friday after work, she would leave with the kids Saturday early afternoon, and Chris and I would stay until Sunday late afternoon. A win for everyone – family time, vacation for the kids, for Mom, and a date for us.

Friday, unfortunately, had the forecast of rain over the entire state of Alabama. It was just drizzle, though, and there was no chance of it freezing and forcing me to re-learn how to use my defrost. We arrived around lunchtime to a fog-covered, beautiful landscape. The lake was so foggy, in fact, that it actually looked like snow after all.

The kids immediately forgave Eufaula for the fact that there was no snow and set out to play on the beach.

Oh wait – that’s a picture of geese, not my children. Close enough.

The effect of the weather was especially creepy at the “Caution Alligators” sign, and the crows added a nice touch, as well.

The temperature outside was nice, despite the on-and-off drizzle, so we set out on a walk.

Leading nature walks is what my Mom does best, and it doesn’t matter where we are – she identifies every plant and makes it exciting for the kids.

In fact, if you can’t have snow, having Gramamma is a great substitute.

…As well as a breakfast buffet.

Another reason I had wanted to visit Eufaula again is that last time, due to the snow and ice, we hadn’t been able to go to the actual city of Eufaula – we had just stayed at the state park. I’d never been to Eufaula, which I had heard was a beautiful relic of southern history, and had been featured in the movie “Sweet Home Alabama”. I wanted to see this city for myself, especially since the state had just won a victory against the city to tear up their most historic and beautiful boulevard to four-lane it – I needed to experience it before it changed forever.

(Thanks a lot, Alabama.)

So the next day, we all headed into the city. It was just as I had hoped: I was only in need of a hoop skirt to feel like I’d traveled back 150 years.

We went to the Shorter Mansion House Museum,

where a lady with the most fantastic southern accent I’d ever heard (I mean seriously it was straight out of Gone With the Wind – not a trace of “modern southern” in it – she was absolutely an 1800s Southern Belle somehow transported to 2015) gave us a delightful tour.

The house was paid for with the fortunes of the S.S.S. Tonic, which was basically 5 Hour Energy + 12% alcohol – loved by 1900s housewives everywhere.

Also, apparently, they kept Rumplestilstken in the attic.

We then took the kids to George T. Bagby State Park over the line in Georgia, where the Spanish Moss flanked the lake in a most haunting way:

And drove across the dam, further enhancing the “school day” value of this trip:

Of course yet another reason I wanted to go back to Eufaula was for the unprecedented fantastic view of sunset and sunrise – both over the beautiful Lake Eufaula.

Neither disappointed.

Sunset…

And sunrise.

After Mom and the kids left, Chris and I ran eleven miles together. Eufaula has a beautiful running trail, going over the water and through the town, yet…we seemed to be the first runners that Eufaula had ever seen.

…The only other person we saw on the entire trail was a guy halfheartedly walking his dog.

…I got honked at by two women when we ran through town – the only explanation we could come up with was that it was Sunday and I was wearing leggings and they have Blue Laws against that sort of behavior in small town Alabama.

…Chris got heckled by a lady driving by, headed for the Big H Chicken Buffet.

…And everyone else gave us quizzical looks, long stares, and cocked eyebrows.

But maybe one person in that town saw us and thought, “Huh! Moving ones legs fast for seemingly no reason. That looks fun! Maybe I’ll try that.”

Or maybe they didn’t.

But either way, we were proud to be Eufaula’s pioneer runners.

It’s worth noting that the bridge going over the lake on the running trail (that has never been used except by out-of-town city slickers) was closed.

We couldn’t for the life of us figure out why – it looked plenty sturdy to us – so we walked across trepidatiously, saying our goodbyes as we did so, but miraculously surviving.

The walking trail is a Rail to Trail project, so there were leftover relics of days gone by, adding charm and character,

as did my husband.

We ran past every fantastic and amazing house in town,

As well as ancient (for Alabama) churches,

a Carnegie-endowed library that has been in service for over 100 years,

And charming city squares.

The trip was perfect and just what I needed to refresh and unwind.

So if you ever need a break from the usual, I know a great collection of cottages along a lake in South Alabama.

With or without snow, with or without kids, they’re fairly fantastic.

One Oil to Rule Them All.

February 2, 2015February 2, 2015 Rachel Callahan Rachel's "Brilliant" Marketing Ideas, This is TONGUE IN CHEEK People - Don't take me Seriously., Utter Silliness

At Young Living Essential Oils, we pride ourselves in being on the cusp of technology, purity, and usefulness with our oils and oil blends. My Step-By-Step Guide can help you find all answers to life’s questions of health, well-being, prosperity, and immortality.

But now, your life will be reinvented with our new line of oils, The Galactic Power Collection.

The GPC will change the way you think of your health and of treating all of your family’s ailments. It is a highly researched set of blends that will help you learn to align your body with The Universal Rhythm.

Jupiter will bring peace to the rhythm of your soul, Mercury will bring into focus the rhythm of your mind, Venus will speak to the rhythm of your muscles, Mars will create a rhythm in your relationships, Saturn will bring rhythm to your bowels, and Neptune will normalize the rhythm of your emotions.

But the most powerful oil ever created and ever imagined will change the way this universe operates. Uranus.

The Oil of Uranus is formed from precious minerals deposited by asteroids found deep in the bowels of the earth. To retrieve them, we had to spelunk some of the world’s darkest and most dank caves, finding rocks that had previously never seen the light of day. To create Uranus, we ran the rocks through 200 feet of twisting, moist tubing that squeezes the oils out of the rocks as they pass by. The rocks are then ejected from the tubing and recycled in our composting bin.

Now. What can Uranus do for you?

Uranus can do an infinite number of things – with its pleasing aroma including slight chocolate tones mixed with florals and a fresh soil aftertaste, Uranus will intoxicate you at the first whiff.

If you find yourself with any kind of head cold, just rub Uranus onto your temples, and within an hour, you will find yourself healed and free and singing praises about Uranus. Also, just two drops of Uranus can and will cure all Fungal Infections of the foot. Uranus literally squeezes out the toxins.

Your children will also highly benefit from Uranus – in fact, Uranus can improve the health your entire family, pets and all!

If your baby gets an Ear Infection, just a tiny spritz of Uranus into the ear canal will immediately stop the pain. Use caution, though – Uranus can cause diaper rash if not mixed with a carrier oil.

When your toddler inevitably contracts the dreadful Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease, add a little Uranus to the mix and they will feel better by morning.

And for those school-aged children, nothing kills lice like Uranus. Forget about those pesky lice combs – massage Uranus into their scalp twice a day instead!

Swimmer’s Ear can also be prevented with Uranus, so don’t forget to bring it along next time you drop the kids off at the pool.

If your adolescents struggle with acne, Uranus can help them, as well. Just rub Uranus into their pores and you will see the transformation. As a bonus, Uranus erases freckles and tightens up wrinkles.

If one of your children is struggling with Attention Deficit Disorder, just leave two drops of Uranus on their school books and be amazed at the difference it will make.

Uranus can even help around the house. If your sinks get clogged or begin to develop an odor, drop a bomb of Uranus down each one for a fresh, happy, clear drain.

But there is no power so great as keeping Uranus diffused throughout your house. The aroma of Uranus will bring rhythm and harmony to your family like you’ve never experienced. Your husband will swoon under the power of Uranus, your children will become kind, obedient angels, and will even pick up after themselves. And as a bonus, cockroaches will scamper out of your home at the first trace of Uranus.

Knowing how to properly utilize and employ Uranus will change your family forever.

Try it today!

What Really Happened In Eufaula.

January 29, 2015January 29, 2015 Rachel Callahan I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Just My Luck, Kids: The Experience.

This past weekend, I felt compelled to return to the scene of the crime. My crime.

The Place: Lakepoint State Park in Eufaula, Alabama.

The time: One year ago.

My conviction: Utter selfishness.

My sentence: a year of guilt.

I never really told my story. How I actually felt that weekend…because it would have been grotesquely insensitive. But it’s been a year now…maybe the trauma has departed enough for me to not seem like such a detestable person.

Or maybe not.

One year ago, I was itching for adventure. For winter wonderland. For snow.

A snowstorm was being predicted several days in advance – a massive one. 9-12 inches perhaps!

The only problem? It was definitely not coming to Birmingham. It might go anywhere around Birmingham, but there was a zero percent chance of Birmingham seeing more than a dusting – a dusting that definitely wouldn’t stick more than two seconds.

No way, no how.

So I made the only logical decision: I decided that I MUST go to the snow.

For the children.

For adventure.

For LIVING.

First, I spent 36 hours chasing the predictions. As the target moved, I changed my plans. I was going to Charleston…Columbia…Augusta…Atlanta…Middle-of-Nowhere-Georgia…

I invited every one of my friends and relatives to join me, one at a time, trying to get someone in on our grand adventure. But everyone had plans that week, or didn’t want to take their kids out of school, or had some reason that they needed to stay in Birmingham.

Finally, the night before, the weather experts said that the Ground Zero of this massive snow event would be…Eufaula, Alabama.

Three hours southeast of Birmingham.

It seemed unlikely and made no sense – Eufaula has probably never seen more than a handful of snow in its history. But the experts were decisive, so I obeyed. I made reservations at a state park, and I dragged the children out of bed and set off early in the morning, because they said the snow was coming quicker than expected.

Some were happier than others.

It was a harrowing journey, for a southern driver, anyway – I dealt with flakes of snow and drops of sleet and needing to actually use the defrost for its true purpose for the first time in my life.

As we grew closer to our destination, the snow turned to sleet, and the sleet turned to rain…the temperature gauge in the car kept rising…and I began to feel very nervous on the inside.

As we arrived, the tweets began coming in.

“You should have stayed in Birmingham. My yard is covered in snow.”

“It’s snowing hard here! There’s already an inch on my yard and it’s just started!”

“It’s a shame you didn’t just stay put!”

I HATED MY FRIENDS.

I WANTED TO TELL THEM TO SHUT UP FOREVER.

It was above freezing and raining where we were, with no hope of that turning to snow anytime soon. But the state park attendants assured me that the snow was still coming to Eufaula. LOTS of it.

And so we waited. Extraordinarily nervously.

Then the reports began surfacing that Birmingham didn’t just get snow – but a massive ice underlying the snow that destroyed all transportation in progress. The fact that Birmingham was indeed getting snow was a last minute realization, so the entire city left work to go home and/or pick up their children…which turned the entire city into what was the most massive, epic, city-wide stranding situation ever experienced. The scenes were out of an Apocalyptic Movie. Or The Walking Dead on a snowy day.

…Photos which I couldn’t TAKE, because I was stuck three hours away. With nothing but rain and melting icicles on an alligator sign.

The smug tweets turned into panicked tweets. Stories began rolling in about thousands of cars being stuck on the interstate. No possible way for emergency personnel to get to them. And this wasn’t thawing soon – Birmingham was officially iced in – and at the most inconvenient of times. The city’s children were stuck in their preschools and schools with teachers that were now emergency caregivers.

~ My Dad’s cousin was stuck in her car for eleven and a half hours.

~ Noah’s Godfather (who is an elder at our church) was trying to drive uphill, but had to abandon his car in the parking lot of a rather infamous liquor store (called Tootie’s, no less,) and walk ten miles home. In the snow, up the mountain, on a solid sheet of ice.

Meanwhile, I was panicking. Not about them – not about the actual human suffering going on in my city – but about the fact that I had spent all this money…done all this planning…dragged my kids away…and now we were stuck in this tiny cabin, iced out of our city for who knows how many days, in the rain.

I did care very much about what was going on in Birmingham, but I also cared very much about my own mistakes.

Not only were we in the rain, but we were in the only rain in this entire blasted storm. We were supposed to be in the epicenter and we were in the exact spot where the snow ended and the rain began.

If we had simply stayed home, we would have the winter wonderland I so desired.

But could I tell anyone this? Could I bemoan my situation and find comfort?

Um, no.

Because everyone I knew was having The Biggest Crisis of Their Lives.

~ My pregnant neighbor had to walk up a mountain, and met another pregnant walker along the way.

~ A blog friend Adrienne had to go door to door asking anyone if they had a breast pump, and my friend Maree recounts this experience:

Everyone had a story of hours of chaos, tragedy, panic, and having to urinate in their cars.

My parents, however, had felt like they should stay home that day. And sent my kids a video of them gleefully sledding down their hill.

Which was just great. Because my children, doe-eyed and pitiful, asked dozens of times thereafter, “Mommy, why didn’t we just go to Gramamma and Pop’s?? It was a lot closer….and they have SNOW!”

Regret drowned me.

I paced, stuck in the tiny cottage, rain pouring outside, children bouncing off the walls, cycling between sadness about this ridiculous adventure and guilt about being so emotional about my own situation. Then more regret. And more guilt.

Meanwhile, other people had real problems.

I read tweet after tweet, status after status about what was going on in Birmingham, trying to tune out my frantic and antsy children, watching every radar in hopes that our rain would turn to snow.

FOR TEN HOURS.

Ten hours is a long time to be stuck in a warm cabin with rain beating on the windows.

Okay it’s a longer time to be stuck in a freezing car on an interstate with ten thousand other commuters while one’s kids are stranded at school. Which is why I’m the worst person on the earth. And why Birmingham may disown me for this confession.

All I had wanted was snow and all I had gotten was the opportunity to try and keep my kid from breaking the overly fancy glasses at the state park restaurant.

I finally put the children to bed at 8:30pm, after a long day of stir-crazy in Eufaula.

And as I walked out of their room from tucking them in, I looked out the window.

And the snow had begun.

I nearly cried.

I went and jerked those kids out of bed, shoved their rain boots on over their pajamas, and tossed them out the back door.

It was beautiful. It was snow. We had finally arrived.

It only snowed for two hours, but I watched every flake fall from that sky. We ended up with as much snow as Birmingham, minus the underlying ice and tragedy. We were in a picturesque place, with beautiful views of both the sunrise and sunset, a frozen shore, and a breakfast buffet – it was the absolute utopia of Southern Snow.

Which only compounded my guilt about my ten hour attitude issue.

Oh and also? People were still stuck. Just watch a little of this video to see how stuck Birmingham was:

Tens of thousands of kids had spent the night at their schools, roads were filled with thousands of abandoned cars, my husband spent two nights sleeping at his office, all those people who had too many plans to join me on their adventures found their plans cancelled and their lives upturned, and in general my city remained in shambles for about 36 hours.

Meanwhile, we were playing blissfully, exactly where we wanted to be.

Worried about those at home, but fully enjoying our two inches of winter wonderland.

Digging up puddles,

And making snow angels.

My kids even made friends with the one other family at the state park, who had driven up from Florida for the same purpose as us.

We had snow cream,

A warming station,

And perfect happiness filled every moment.

Except when it didn’t.

When we drove home two days after the storm had hit, I lost count of the cars still abandoned on the interstates, and we made it home just one hour after Chris – Who had been at his office, which is 20 minutes away, for about 55 hours.

Armageddon had hit my city and I’d missed it – instead, I spent that time worrying about the demise of my personal adventure, and then enjoying it fully.

(For the children, of course.)

I’m sorry, Birmingham. I deserve your wrath.

What really happened to you that weekend?

Where Shopping is Not A Pleasure.

January 28, 2015January 27, 2015 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Just My Luck, Kids: The Experience.

Editor’s Note: “Buggy” is the correct way to say “shopping cart”. I know that not all of you agree, but I cannot force myself to type shopping cart twenty-four times. That’s exactly 168 more characters than are needed. A character savings that I just lost with this explanation.

1:40pm: Walk through the parking lot of the grocery store, two kids trailing. Not looking forward to what I know lies ahead, but at least I only need ten items.

Boy Child: “Can we get a race car buggy can we get a race car buggy can we can we can we??”

1:41pm: Locate giant and unwieldy race car buggy, attempt to steer it into the door, run into sides of door several times. Meanwhile, boy child is in a constant, panicked repeat of “Putmein!Putmein!PutmeIN!”

Because it’s so like me to want the most inconvenient, inefficient, drastically reduced capacity buggy – just to let him watch me push it.

1:42pm: Boy child is secured and driving happily. Head to the produce section.

1:44pm: Cannot find pesto. Why wouldn’t pesto be near the herbs and guacamole? But no. I have to ask the strawberry stocker, who explains that the pesto is on the aisle with the oranges.

Of course it is.

1:48pm: Boy Child begins demanding to get out of the buggy. The ridiculously insanely inconvenient buggy that I got just for him. I say what any mother would. No freaking way.

1:50pm: Need cauliflower. WHAT THE CRAP. Cauliflower is $3.99 a head? Nobody even likes cauliflower! I’m basically doing cauliflower a favor by trying to cook it into my recipe and fool my family into thinking it’s not cauliflower. I should get a community service credit, not have to pay nearly eight dollars for the amount of cauliflower I need!

So I find the biggest most beefy heads of cauliflower in the store to justify this insane expense.

1:55pm: Try to get down the pasta aisle. A woman wearing leggings as pants has parked her buggy in the EXACT center of the aisle, and is on the other end of the aisle comparing brands of spaghetti. Her purse is sitting open on the top, so moving her buggy may make me look like a thief.

I don’t like looking like a thief.

I try to maneuver around it, but The Architect of All Publixes designs their aisles to the exact width to never allow this.

She finally looks up and realizes her abuse, and moves her buggy so I can continue on.

1:58pm: Boy child ramps up his demands for freedom. I finally let him out, telling him to stay near me.

He does not.

Girl Child, meanwhile, has noticed that candy is in every conceivable spot that her eyes could land, and is asking for each individual item. It’s as if the store designer measured the fifty-three inch height of my daughter and constructed the entire store around her being able to see all available in the entire universe that includes High Fructose Corn Syrup.

2:00pm: Boy child hooks onto the side of the buggy to ride – since he’s tired of walking. Making my already impossible job of steering into an Elite Olympic Sport.

2:01pm: I try to get sour cream, but another stocker is in the way. And my sour cream isn’t there, despite his restocking. I move on, vowing to come back in hopes that he finds some. He never offers to help.

2:02pm: Girl child forlornly asks if she can ride on the side of the buggy like her brother.

2:03pm: Encounter second person that has left their buggy directly in the middle of the aisle – they are not visible, so I do the moving for them, then manage to not scrape Boy Child’s back while squeezing past. Or at least not scrape it so hard that it bleeds through his shirt.

2:05pm: Head back to the produce to get what I missed. Boy Child takes this moment at the loose leafy vegetables to remember that he has an impressively juicy cough.

He walks up to the vegetables and leans over them so that he has better trajectory.

“Do NOT cough on the lettuce!”

The entire produce section turns and looks.

2:06pm: Boy child begs me to put him back in the buggy. His legs are so tired.

2:07pm: I try to leave the produce section, but a THIRD person has parked their buggy in The Impossible Spot, and on one aisle over, the strawberry stocking lady has now knocked over her load of strawberries, making the entire produce section my own personal Alcatraz.

I finally find the one exit in this Human Maze of Hell.

2:08pm: Boy child is so desperate to ride now that he has crawled up under the buggy and is sitting in the under basket.

I instruct him to get up. AND WALK.

2:09pm: Both children now think that it is their responsibility to pull my buggy. They each grab opposite ends of the front of the buggy and pull in opposite directions, creating a ten-foot berth and distressed shoppers at every intersection.

2:10pm: I try to get to the sandwich meats. Yet another clerk is restocking. IT’S 2:10PM, Publix. Restocking the entire store should happen at 2:10AM.

2:11pm: This reminds me that I needed to check back in on the sour cream. Restocking is still happening, my brand is still out, but I stand there, awkwardly close to the stocker, attempting to get another variety, but alas – he has perfected the art of blocking every canister of sour cream at once.

I wait.

I say, “Excuse me – I’m going to grab that sour cream. I was waiting to see if you had the light variety…”

He ignores me, not offering to check his stocking cart or even move so that I don’t have to brush up against his chest to retrieve my dairy product.

2:13pm: We finally head to the check-out line, where I begin taking notes on this Trip to Remember. Leggings as Pants walks up behind me as I’m writing about her superior aisle blocking abilities.

Meanwhile, Girl Child is still begging for every item she sees (“Why don’t we ever buy Apple Jacks? Can I have Swedish Fish? I sure would like some more chocolate…”)

And Boy Child is still begging me to put him back in the buggy.

I realize that I’m never going to make it to the car with him out of the buggy, so I put him in, telling him in no uncertain terms that he cannot get out until we arrive at our car.

So he begins to sit on the side of the buggy. To spite me. To make me wish I had a fork to eat my own eyeball.

Meanwhile, Leggings as Pants is asking me questions about how the sales work.

“If it’s 3 for $5, do I have to buy three, or can I buy one?”

I assure her she can buy as many or as few as her heart desires and still get the deal, but she turns to the cashier and asks again – in case I’m lying to her, obvs.

The cashier agrees with me.

BOOM.

2:20pm: Boy child is performing Pommel Horse on the side of the buggy, begging to get down.

2:21pm: The groceries are all finally bagged and paid for, the bagger does not offer to help me to my car and won’t even make eye contact, and I literally run out of the store, hoping that Girl Child can keep up and that Boy Child sticks his landing, if he does fall.

2:25pm: Load the groceries into the car, notice that the buggy return is one aisle over, attempt to get to it when the blasted behemoth of a buggy gets stuck under my rearview mirror. AND IS STILL NEARLY SCRAPING THE CAR ON THE OTHER SIDE. Not because I’m a bad parker but because this buggy is wider than a full-sized Hummer.

2:26pm: I squeal out of the parking lot, simultaneously mentally cursing Publix and creating a business plan to start a Grocery Delivery Company.