Rachel Callahan

There’s No Place Like Home.

May 2, 2013February 17, 2014 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Chris, Guest Post, I Love Birmingham, The Blissfulness of Life

This is another guest post by Chris the Husband, Contributing Editor and all around good guy.

I don’t know a ton about cars. Or racing. But I hear that we have a super cool race track here in Birmingham. Barber Motorsports Park has a giant motorcycle museum, a road course, and tons or beautiful scenery. I highly recommend a visit.

On a recent Saturday, I took my 2 young adventurers to meet their Pop for a morning soaking up the ambiance of the Indy race weekend. The little one was in heaven. Everything with a motor – wheels, sirens, wings, etc. was seen and admired.

The lovely one, however, was bored out of her six year old mind. But she wanted to come along, so fun was going to be had.

See! Fun, right?

Noah couldn’t get enough of it.

Ali, not so much. I’m sure these will be treasured memories.

I swear, this was not a posed photo.

Sitting down for a rest and a snack was the highlight of the day for all.

They really pull out all the stops for Indy weekend, with a fair area that included – and I’m being totally serious here – THE ferris wheel from Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch.

Grandstand climbing is also a featured activity.

Eventually, you do have to talk your little people into letting you put foam earplugs in their ears, because race cars, although really cool, are a lot louder than you think they will be, or want them to be.

But it was an absolutely glorious day.

After awhile, even my motorsports enthusiast was close to a breakdown, so we bailed on Barber’s and headed home for naptime.

After completing a morning of Superdad activity, I headed off for my alone time, which is pretty much always running.

I’ve documented some of my best runs, like San Diego, New York, Lake Saluda, and the Mercedes Half-Marathon, but I’ve never done my typical once-a-week local Birmingham route, which has been tried, tested, analyzed with apps for distance and elevation, and optimized in general to take in some of the best scenery available in town while maximizing trails & sidewalks and minimizing flirting with disaster on the shoulder of the road.

This route has a few variations, from 8-10 miles, and would be great for a 2 hour walk-and-talk if running wasn’t in your fun zone. I’m a pretty slow runner, and sometimes I have to turn it up to blow past the mall-walkers like I think I should. Anyway, it starts and ends at Robert Jemison Park, a common place for walking and running in the ‘Ham.

You get the trail & nature start, just to feel the breath of fresh air and the crunch of earth under your feet.

It quickly turns into sidewalks and up a hill and through pleasant neighborhoods full of more professional landscaping.

The first village (Crestline) takes you past a few open restaurants with sidewalk tables and happy eaters to remind you that they are doing the opposite of what you’re doing. This should make you feel good. Somehow.

There’s a lot of running water around Birmingham, so you can usually find a creek to look at if you need to stop for a minute and gasp for air.

After a potentially brutal hill or two you are rewarded with one of our city’s more quirky landmarks, (no offense to bare-bottomed statues of mythological dudes.) A large graffiti-painted piece of artillery…

…pointed at the city…

…theoretically unloaded.

You catch a few glimpses of the downtown skyline along the way, and work your way through older, even nicer neighborhoods, again with professional landscaping.

This neighborhood provides a peek into Birmingham’s distant past, into homes built by turn-of-the-century iron & steel barons, scary looking dudes whose portraits hang in local attractions and name the roads & parks.

At the top of the mountain, you get the best view in town, at an elevation 330 feet higher than where you started. Luckily, its all downhill from here.

Another village (English) includes more happy sidewalk eaters, and a frozen yogurt place that hasn’t yet lured me in mid-run, but there will be a day.

Creative yard art is a hallmark of the modern south, but demanding yard art – well, that’s just awesome. Note to self, go before you run.

I end up going through the Birmingham Botanical Gardens, the most professional of professional landscaping, which brings some of the variableness to the distance. If you aren’t in a hurry or worn out yet, there are myriads of trail options to make loops around the gardens. (Bonus: a public restroom and water fountain.) This spot, in the center of the rose garden, is always inspirational to me. Something about the form of the figure on top is lighthearted and free, the way running feels when it feels like you want it to feel.

Certain seasons of the year bring hordes of well-dressed, camera toting people to the gardens. Springtime provides a flood of wedding parties, fully-loaded prom limos, Easter children, and fussy toddlers all photobombing one another. Good times.

One more village (Mountain Brook), one more ice cream shop, and one local pizza parlor that will knock you down with airborne butter if you happen to run by when the door is open. But I like the charm of it all.

Past the last wafting elegant odor of the cigar shop, the trails pick back up, and you are almost back.

One more stretch of sidewalk…

One more creek view…

One more beautiful old house…

One more Birmingham landmark (this is an actual occupied privately owned residential dwelling, with rotating water wheel)…

And one unique foot bridge, that only once I have found impassable to due high rushing water.

So there you go. I’m certain that reading about running 9 miles burns at least half the calories of actually running 9 miles, so go enjoy a treat!

If you’re interested in the exact route, here is one variation, but feel free to ask for more details.

The Rise and Fall of a Ballerina’s Career.

April 30, 2013April 30, 2013 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Ali Blogs, Kids: The Experience.

For the past nine months, Ali, Noah and I have been making weekly treks to Ali’s ballet class. It took us a while to find our place in this world, and Ali has gone back and forth, wavering between whether ballet is the most fun she has all week or something to be avoided at all costs. But we accomplished the year.

And our reward for our dedication was recital and all of it’s containing pomp. And circumstance.

We had dress rehearsal on Friday night, and the four-page recital instructions commanded that everything be done just as if it were the performance.

Which was good, since it took me three applications of (the very specific) makeup for Ali to get used to the idea.

(Mascara ungraciously intruded on her idea of personal space.)

(And I still stink at making a proper ballet bun.)

(But wow – hair nets make all the difference. The fact that I didn’t discover hair nets until the very last day that I would ever need them is more farcical than realizing that all I had to do to get my two-year-old to quit pooping in the bath was to tell him not to.)

Since dressing up like a princess is basically her profession, Ali adored her outfit, enjoying the poofy tulle,

And spinning power.

She basically floated on air the entire weekend.

Friday night dress rehearsal was our only chance to take photos and video, so I did an extraordinarily thorough job.

All of the classes, each representing a different country, lined up and sang. Because what is a ballerina if not a singing ballerina?

Since it was her recital (or, in the case of the photos, dress rehearsal,) I thought it only fair to let Ali do the blogging. So I interviewed her about the experience and typed verbatim what she told me. Her answers are in bold.

It was fun to sing and my favorite was Oh How I Love Jesus. It was hard to do the hand motions without hitting other girls so I just had to do it behind their back because I wasn’t up enough and I didn’t realize it so I was behind a little bit and didn’t realize it.

(Ali is the third Yellow tutu from the right – the one looking around analytically rather than doing the appropriate girl-smacking hand motions.)

Well it was very fun watching the other girls, but in the dress rehearsal, I…um…didn’t know that that there was another girl before us after the blue girls that danced but I think they were five, and, um, that’s all I can say about the other stuff about my recital.

Each country did it’s own performance, causing much outfit envy and outfit relief in the Mommy Section, and, as I found out later, from the ballerina section.

Oh – that’s Ireland. I liked their outfits and, you know, they went first, right?

Brazil was pretty too and they had rainbow skirts. And I liked watching them and they were, Uh…which flag were they?

Uh, Spain. Spain was pretty, but it really wasn’t…the prettiest.

(Upon later reflection, I think that was actually Italy, not Spain. But I don’t blame her for her not-so-unfounded conclusions.)

Um, well, we were Germany. I liked watching the other girls better, and my favorite – I liked watching the…the um…the Russia…because they were pretty and then blue and they had their skirts up. And I liked wearing my outfit a lot..and…after it I really felt like I wish I wanted to be..to be…to be in the Russia class and I wanted to wear a Russia outfit.

Part of her class’ performance included a little acting, where Ali came up to her partner and asked her to dance. So I asked Ali,

Did you like asking her to dance with you?

Well…it wasn’t really my favorite.

After you asked her to dance and you danced together, was that fun?

Um, yes. But it wasn’t my favorite. I liked watching…nevermind.

Did you like it when you lined up on the stage on your knees?

Well, it was kind of hard.

How about when you got to go behind the other girls and have a little bit of a solo dance?

Yeah, I liked doing that and I liked spinning while the girls were around me. It was…um…kinda…my favorite part. (nervous laughter)

Did it make you feel special?

Yes.

Did it make you feel like a Princess?

No. Noah’s making me nervous.

What about when you asked your partner to dance again and she told you no? Did you like that part?

Not Really. But all the girls did that, because that was what our teacher told us to do.

Japan was also one of my favorites. Umm…well, they were very pretty, but why didn’t they wear pink I mean orange instead of blue, and blue on their sleeves instead of pink?

I don’t know.

Well, it…it wasn’t really normal at all, but they were very pretty.

I pulled up the photo of England…

(Six-Year-Old Spittake)

Well, I ummm….did…did…did…I, well their outfits weren’t as pretty, but…but they did do…I liked watching them.

Next was USA. Did you like their dance?

Aren’t they American? Well, they were pretty, but, um…why did the boy…why did he do different stuff than the girls?

Because he’s a boy.

Oh.

Did you like Arabia?

Alright. They…one girl in my class said something about them and she said that she was jealous that they were wearing pants and not a skirt but I liked them a lot. What’s that thing that was on their head?

I can’t remember what country they were. Well, they were very pretty and I think I looked at the TV on every country, but…maybe not.

(I believe that they were actually the previously mislabeled Spain, for the record.)

What about Scotland?

Um, we did do a pose like that, but we decided to do the sitting on the knee thing instead. Their outfits were…kind of…the least that I liked. And that’s all I can say about them. Incept what I just said right now.

RUSSIA WAS VERY PRETTY And they have the same first position and let’s see…they were very pretty and I liked watching them too and they looked like kind of a little bit older than me. Well, she does.

Now Iceland. They were very pretty and I don’t remember really watching them and I don’t remember what they danced. I don’t remember what any of the girls danced. So they were very pretty too…and they have pretty, you know, sleeves and…are those sleeves or what are they called? Hand pieces?

So. How did it feel for me to put makeup on you?

uuuummmm….heh… (girlish giggle creating a dimple situation) …I liked it.

And what did you think about the day of your performance, when everyone came and watched?

I don’t really have anything to say about it. But I liked getting my flowers.

And next year, I want to take Art Class instead.

For The Budding Car Guy.

April 29, 2013April 29, 2013 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, The Blissfulness of Life

Noah’s favorite book in all the world is this one:

He has a name for every car on every page, and can quiz me tirelessly on the location of each one of them.

The basic idea is that all of the pages are snapshots of one grander layout of rows and rows of cars. And, since my son lives for cars, nothing could be better.

Except, perhaps, the same book made with his beloved cars.

I got this idea one night as I was reading his book for the tenth time, and just couldn’t let it go.

(Plus, I find great pleasure in lining up all of his cars.)

So I did just that – I got out all of his cars, airplanes, motorcycles, and the like (everything but trains – a girl’s gotta draw the line somewhere) and created the traffic jam of the century.

(Yes. He has an insane number of cars. But that’s all he ever wants, so he gets them from everyone for every holiday, and he is well-pleased.)

Me and my limited camera skills had issues capturing crisp-to-the-edges photos of the cars (F-Stop and I have yet to formally meet), so on the day that Mary Jo came over to photograph my finds at the Wish Collection, I also got her to snap pictures of my lineup,

all at different angles,

and of different sections of his cars.

The next step was finding a company through which I could make a personalized board book. I thought this would be easy – after all, I get a PR email at least once a week for some new printing service or photo book maker.

But nobody, it seemed, wants to make board books. And I knew a regular book of this sort would get torn up too easily for all of my effort.

I finally found two sites that I’d never heard of that were set up to make board books, but neither looked currently active, and both had horribly clunky uploading widgets, and I don’t have time for clunky.

Finally, I found someone on Etsy that would do it – and not only would she do it, but she was happy to design my page layout, too – something else that I didn’t have time for. I immediately paid for my book and sent her the photos along with a link to the book that had inspired me.

And within 24 hours and four easy email exchanges, my first children’s book was completed.

And five days later, I received my copy in the mail.

It was exactly what I wanted.

Each page talked about some of his favorite cars, and even though he can’t read the instructions yet, his sister can.

I couldn’t wait to give it to Noah, so even though we were walking out the door to go eat when I got the mail, I presented it to him anyway.

And, as I had hoped, he was completely mesmerized.

Later, I desperately wanted to capture a moment of he and his sister sharing it together, but this is the best that he gave me:

(Notice the glistening tear on his left cheek.)

Because it’s not like I just MADE HIM HIS OWN KEEPSAKE BOOK or anything. Out of his FAVORITE TOYS IN THE WORLD.

Clearly, taking a photo is too big of a price to ask.

But, overflowing gratitude or not, I’m glad I did it. Because it was really dang cathartic to line up all of those cars.

The Complete Saga of Sam the Cat.

April 25, 2013April 25, 2013 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Blogging: the therapy., Every Now and Then I Can Be Sappy Too., I embarrass myself just for your amusement., I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Just My Luck, Kids: The Experience., Mystery Solved, Storytime

Last Friday evening, as the kids were getting ready for bed and I was addictively glued to CNN while the police were finally closing in on a stowaway in a boat in someone’s backyard in Boston, Chris went down to our garage for a minute.

In the process, he inadvertently created a stowaway situation of our very own.

To help translate, the cute, white, and fluffy parts were sarcasm. The no-kitten-is-cute-enough parts were not.

For the past two years, Chris and I have harbored an extreme aversion to the idea of pets, as our last cat’s illness was difficult and long both for her and us, and managed to nearly ruin all of our carpet, and did take out both of our couches in the process. And, neither of our kids are animal people, so we decided that we would just be a pet-free family for at least the next decade or five.

But it was a cool night, and I felt bad. As did Chris, since before he came upstairs, he fixed up a cozy box with old baby pajamas he found rooting around in the basement, then put the cat and the box outside.

But I suppose my maternal instinct is stronger than his gift of mercy, so I went down to check on said kitten. The minute I opened the door, he ran in, purring loudly.

He was fluffier than I had imagined. And smaller. And devastatingly cuter.

In a moment of weakness, I scooped him up and took him upstairs to let the kids see.

He was fairly clean (except for some eye gunk,) had no noticeable fleas or ticks, and was seemingly fed, but didn’t have any signs of being owned.

And he was extraordinarily and puzzlingly friendly to the children,

(Or at least to Ali – Noah, although he liked the novelty of a “titty tat” in the house, wanted nothing to do with him.)

I assumed he was a stray, put a photo up on Facebook, and tried to woo the general public into wanting him.

And the general public responded by telling me that our daughter had already claimed him.

So I texted our cat-owning neighbor, borrowed their cat box and some food, and Chris set him up a home for the night, complete with a litter pan made out of an extra wet wipe box.

We put him to bed in the warm basement, and said something like, “We’ll figure out what to do with you in the morning.”

Chris and I retired to the couch, both of us with running noses and inflamed eyes. Cat allergy is strong with us.

But the next morning, Ali’s first words were, “Can I play with the kitty again?”

So we brought him upstairs, somewhat surprised that our kid, who had zero interest in any animals, seemed so attached to this cat.

And he was cute.

Noah, however, still preferred to be left alone.

And tried to communicate this in any way possible.

But usually lost the war for solitude.

Ali was in heaven. She played with the cat with no complaints, difficulties, or sounds, for hours on Saturday.

The cat’s friendliness continued to be puzzling – it didn’t seem to have been born in the wild. But I couldn’t find any neighbors who were missing a kitten, and there were no posters out.

Saturday night was also supposed to be cold, so we locked the cat up, again promising, “We’ll most likely figure out what to do with you in the morning.”

I was starting to feel very Dread Pirate Roberts about my nightly promises.

On Sunday, we decided to experiment. It was going to be a warm day, we were to be gone for a while, and he came from outside, so why not let him back out for a while? He might find his owner if he had one, if we were lucky. We left him some food and watched him as he sadly watched us drive away.

When we returned at 3pm, he was excitedly waiting for us, jumping at the kids legs and purring loudly.

So I let Ali play inside with him again during quiet time, and Chris and I came to terms with the fact that:

a. No one was begging us for this cat,
b. He didn’t go back home, and
c. Perhaps he could stay on as an outside cat.

Also, my text messages with Chris were starting to subtly expose the turning tide of my anti-cat resolve…

So on Monday morning (after testing Sam’s outside-abilities by letting him sleep out the night before,) I asked Ali:

“What do you want to name him?”

“Can he STAY???”

“If he doesn’t claw at the window and meow outdoors all night, he can be a mostly-OUTDOORS cat.”

“I think his name should be Sam.”

“Sam? Why Sam?”

“Well, because I have 2,000 Party Friends and they all have different names and it’s hard to find a name that one of them doesn’t have and none of them are named Sam.”

“But I thought your first Party Friend ever was named Samuel?”

“Yes…but that’s not Sam.”

“Oh, I see your point.”

Ali was elated at the turn of events.

Noah was…eh.

A minute later, Chris texted me, the worry in his tone betraying his own change in emotional attachment.

We headed out to visit my parent’s that morning, so we let Sam out to play again, confident that he would be waiting excitedly when we returned.

But he wasn’t.

Surely he’s just on an adventure…

But we didn’t see him for the rest of the day. Or the night.

Ali missed him greatly, and even Noah asked a couple of times, “Where’s Sam??”

Chris and I felt guilty. Sad for the kids. And maybe a little sad for us…because we’d gotten more attached than we had intended.

That evening after the kids were in bed, we turned on a random episode of The Big Bang Theory.

The episode was The Ornithophobia Diffusion, in which Sheldon spends half the episode desperately trying to shoo a bird off of his windowsill, and then the other half overcoming his fear of the bird who managed to fly into his house.

Of course, right as Sheldon has fallen madly in love with the bird and vows to take care of her and all of her progeny until the end of time, she flies back out the window.

He stands, leaning out the window, screaming at the long-gone bird, “COME BACK AND LET ME LOVE YOU!!!!”

The irony was not lost on us. But we dared not discuss it with each other for fear of showing our deep emotional vulnerability over the loss of a tiny kitten.

The next morning, our catversations continued.

A couple of hours later, Chris’ deep cat ponderings had taken a shocking turn.

Although I wasn’t to the level of remorse that Chris had apparently delved into, I did feel a measure of sadness all day, as if I’d let my child down. Should I have never let the cat out? Should I have coddled him and allowed him to stay indoors until he was full-grown?

We prayed for Sam at breakfast and lunch. Ali prayed that he would come back. I just prayed that we could know he was okay.

That afternoon, we were in the yard when a neighbor that we don’t know was driving home. He had a new car, so I was half-interestedly watching as he pulled up in his driveway.

His tween daughter met him at the back fence, and from a distance, I saw her hand him something small and fluffy. He held the fluffball up excitedly, then handed him back to his daughter.

I ran across our yard while carrying Noah, and with Ali curiously trailing behind me.

And I yelled.

“Hey!! Random question – was that a kitten you were holding?”

“Yes! He went missing and we didn’t know where he was. Just showed back up!”

I quickly told him the whole story, thereby confessing to inadvertently stealing his daughter’s cat for 72 hours.

After spilling the story, I ended with “Over here his name is Sam. Who is he over there?”

“He’s Sorn over here. I’m sure he’ll come visit you again sometime! …But we’ll be sure to lock him up better at night.”

Ali took the news very well, oddly okay with the fact that SamSorn belonged elsewhere, and later, simply asked if we could visit him sometime.

“Absolutely we can. As long as the neighbors agree to visitation rights.”

So. What did I learn from this?

1. Never try to give away a kitten on Facebook. Because no matter how cute he is, no one will want him. Also, he might belong to your neighbor.

2. I can no longer use the excuse of “my kids don’t like animals anyway” as to why we don’t have a pet. Must inject them with allergy shots. And by that, I mean shots full of allergies.

3. Even though Chris and I were both tempted, naming a cat based on the events happening when you found him is not always the best decision – Both Dzokhar and Tsarnaev make awkward pet names. Let him be Sam.

4. Sometimes, God chooses to answer my prayer over my daughter’s. And then I feel guilty. So I should just pray her prayer instead.

5. Stealing your neighbor’s beloved pets is a great excuse to meet them.

Giveaway: Adventure With Us at Red Mountain Park! {$100 Value}

April 24, 2013May 6, 2013 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests, I Love Birmingham

As soon as Chris and I first heard of the Red Mountain Park Project, we were elated. We’ve been known to explore random wooded parts of our city just to say that we could, so a giant park (1,200 acres!) with multiple trails and scenic views…we couldn’t wait for it to open.

And then it did open…but we had a new baby…and life was busy…and we have not spent nearly the amount of time that we wanted exploring our city’s gorgeous new greenspace. But we intend on righting that situation this spring and summer.

Besides just being a park with multiple trails and beautiful views, they have an exciting zip line tour of the park (in which even children over 6 are allowed to participate,)

and, opening on May 1, the Hugh Kaul Beanstalk Forest.

I’m excited about this one-of-a-kind experience, as it will be a sky-high adventure including bridges, zip lines, and obstacle courses. You can decide what activities you want to accomplish and do them at your own pace, and will get to experience Red Mountain’s beauty from an entirely different level.

I wanted to start with the Zip Line Tour, though, because I’ve always wanted to try one. So I was thrilled when the Red Mountain Park Organization contacted me and invited me to try it, as well as bring a couple of you with me!

So. Chris and I will be zipping through the forest on Sunday, May 19 at 2pm, and we have two extra tickets for you to join us. I will be giving away the pair together, so whoever wins can bring the guest of their choice.

If you would like to be entered to win the pair of Zip Line tickets, simply comment on the post and tell me your favorite thing about living in Birmingham (or whatever city you live in, but I kind of assume it will mostly be local people who will want to win this prize. But feel free to drive from Africa to zip line with us if you’d like!)

After you comment, make sure you click that you have done so on the Rafflecopter widget below, and it will also give you more options for extra entries:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

This giveaway is open until Monday, May 6 and the randomly chosen winner will be announced on Tuesday, May 7 on my Giveaway Winners Page.

I look forward to Zipping through Red Mountain Park with two of you – best of luck!!

Disclosure: Red Mountain Park provided tickets for us and for you.

What A Mommy Wants.

April 23, 2013April 23, 2013 Rachel Callahan Anal Retentivity to a Fault, I'm a Blog Geek, Survey Says. . .

So Ladies.

Mother’s Day is quickly approaching. I asked Siri about the specifics, and she reported duly:

And, you know, I’m not all about encouraging Mothers to be selfish and to demand what is theirs and all, but MOTHER’S DAY IS OURS.

I’m not sure which is better: having children too young to understand the gravity of the situation and therefore being dependent on their father to ensure proper giftage from said unappreciative children, or having children old enough to understand their duties on such a momentous occasion and then smelling the scent of obligation on their breath.

But whichever it is, I do hope that you get what you want this year.

Not what they think you want (bunny-headed house slippers,) but what you really want (diamonds or gold or the finest of all materials, a period of solitude.)

So this year, I know what I want, and I decided that the best way to get it would be to put it out there and hope my husband reads it.

(Actually he’ll probably ask what I want and on his sixth or thirteenth inquiry I’ll finally tell him what I want but I felt the need to share in my moment of complete self-absorbedness with all of you first.)

So we’ll just have a little Mommycentric Party together and tell the world what we really want.

(What we really really want.)

So I’ll tell you what I want.

(What I really really want.)

I want the boxed set of The Big Bang Theory.

(Or at least the first five seasons. The sixth season is currently too expensive on its own for me to justify it as part of my gift – it’s is JUST Mother’s Day, after all.)

(If Mother’s Day had a Santa Claus, he’d say I’d been good, but not that good.)

Although we’ve caught episodes here and there over the years, Chris and I just truly plugged into the show for the past couple of months, and I’ve been living in a world of pining for more Sheldon, Leonard, Penny, Amy, Bernadette and Raj ever since.

(But not Wolowitz. No one should pine for Wolowitz.)

So we’ve been watching multiple TBS-DVRed episodes a night, but they’re all out of order and…I want to experience it like it was meant to be experienced, first five episodes that were out of character for Sheldon and all.

Because there has never been a show that our geeky souls has more related to – especially to the closet ST:TNG fan that resides in both of us.

And you simply cannot be a fan of an OCD show without watching it in an OCD, in-order fashion – It’s just not right.

(And because Downton Abbey has so completely crushed my soul and trampled my heart that I need a new show to love me.)

The Big Bang Theory boxed set has been sitting in my Amazon Shopping Cart for weeks now, but I haven’t mustered up the courage to do that last one-click.

So that’s what I want, and hey – it benefits my husband, too, because I’m not the only one who loves that show.

Oh – and the last few bags of my most amazing and fantastic find of the year, Easter Edition White Chocolate M & M’s, wouldn’t be too bad of an add-on, either.

(I just ordered two bags so who knows how few are left. The sooner the better.)

So tell me what you want.

(What you really really want.)

And then leave this blog post up on your computer for your husband to accidentally happen upon.

(Or give me his email address and I’ll send him a copy.)

But there’s one rule: don’t go saying something like “Oh, I’ll just be happy with all of the handmade cards from my kids and burnt breakfast in bed – motherhood itself is enough of a gift for me!”, because that’s just totally unnecessary and caustically vitriolic against my own Momentary Mother’s Day Selfishness.

So. I’m waiting. What do you want?

Noah, In Memes: Deuce.

April 22, 2013April 21, 2013 Rachel Callahan I'm a Meme You're a Meme, NoahBlogs, Toddlers: The Experience, Utter Silliness

The original version can be found by clicking here.

When Toddler Dreams Come True.

April 19, 2013April 18, 2013 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Kids: The Experience., The Blissfulness of Life, Toddlers: The Experience

Last Saturday, we took Noah and Ali to A Day Out with Thomas.

We were cautiously thrilled for a redo, since we took Ali when she was two, and she had a severe form of Baby-PMS that day.

In an attempt to do things as opposite as possible as we had done with Ali (to whom we hyped the meeting of Thomas for months,) we decided to completely surprise Noah.

Therefore, he knew nothing except that we were “going to a surprise.”

When we arrived and were walking up, I saw Thomas from a distance and got all giddy on the inside on his behalf.

I very nearly shed a tear at the sight of that big blue engine.

I asked Noah excitedly and expectantly, “What do you SEE?”

He looked around, then said nonchalantly, “I see cars. And I see people.”

Finally, as we got a little closer, he spotted him.

And we got the reaction of which we had dreamed.

A shrill, exuberant shriek and, “It’s…it’s THOMAS!!!!”

There he was in all of his glory, train engineer and all (which was a nice touch, since the presence of humans in Thomas really confuses me. Exactly what are the separation of duties between a talking train and his Human Counterpart? I totally should have asked him when I had the chance.)

But Noah had no such meanderings. He was thrilled to be on the train tracks,

Thrilled to be “big” and go in the bouncy house with all the bigger kids,

Thrilled to climb on all of the other trains,

(as was his sister, who thankfully had no recurrence of previous attitudinal disturbances,)

and thrilled to get an inside peek at the train’s engine.

Ali looked so memory-making, being all Titanic-Like at the front of the train, so I naturally requested a family photo op.

But all I got was a free nose-picking show,

and Chris trying to get out of the shot…or make himself more easily photoshopped…or something.

When it was time to get in line for our ride, Noah realized the full weight of all of his hopes and dreams coming true before his eyes.

And was also obsessed with his ticket,

which reminded me of Ali at her two-year-old Thomas ride – perhaps her favorite part of the whole experience.

Ali, who didn’t remember her last trip nor her dream-ruining-attitude, was also delighted with this year’s adventure, thereby making amends for her last slip-up altogether.

The conductor came up and down the aisles ensuring that all children heads were inside the windows and offering to pose for photos (perhaps that’s that human’s role in Thomas?)

And, as they say in the Thomas Books, with a Peep! and a Poop!, Thomas left the station.

(Seriously. They say that.)

And both of my children were mesmerized.

And Chris and I made sure to revel in that golden parenting moment – the one where our children’s reactions actually measured up to our own expectations.

Because We Need to Laugh. Or at Least Snort.

April 17, 2013April 17, 2013 Rachel Callahan Photographical Oddities, Weird Strange and True

It’s hard being a writer at times like these, because there is so much tragedy, so much seriousness, and so much going through my mind. Yet my thoughts are not coherent enough to have anything helpful to add to any of it. And when I have nothing worth saying, I’ve found it’s better to say nothing at all until I have something worth saying. And just pray instead – because I seriously doubt that God misunderstands my incoherent thoughts.

So instead, I’ve decided that this week is in some serious need of random ridiculousness, so I went through my iPhone camera collection to find what all I’ve saved for later.

Let’s start with Facebook ads. They rarely make sense and even more rarely make me desire to buy the product.

(Except for one ad, one time. And I love what I bought.)

But this one was NOT that one.

So…if I become a counselor and make a median income of $53,380 a year…do I have to get my neck barcoded? And…um, why, exactly, is that supposed to excite me about my new career?

Speaking of Facebook Ads, I want to know how much McDonald’s paid these 62.2K people to actually like this picture.

Because all I can think about is…has that hook been in a real fish before it was in my Fish McBites?

Thank goodness for Shaun White bubble gum. Because we really think a lot about a snowboarder in Alabama in the Spring during an off-Winter-Olympic year.

Yes. I desperately want a swimsuit that will make me look skinny.

No. I don’t think that this will help create that illusion.

However, I’d take a visible coccyx over this T-Shirt any day..

And I’d take both over matching my 40-pound six-year-old daughter. Which will NEVER help me feel slim on the beach.

I found this tag on a pair of jeans:

I stared and I stared. Then I stared. And stared.

Finally, I hit up Google Translate to help me understand.

Levanta = “up”

Cola = “queue”

but,

Levanta Cola = “derriere”

So either they’ve upped the queue on their pocket placement (of which I do not approve,) or they’re explaining how their jeans offer a derriere lift (of which I do approve.)

I love a good diagram that most likely has no scientific backing. I saw this one on Facebook or Pinterest or who knows where but certainly not on WebMD:

But you better believe I got Chris to check.

I saw this one on Facebook. It seems like a fairly fabulous idea,

Especially if people would understand the yellow ribbon to mean the same thing when tied around my toddler’s finger on an especially cranky day.

Or on me during certain…seasons.

Speaking of seasons. I’ve been using an app to track that lately, and I have a few complaints.

First of all, on a “Regular Day,” I would really appreciate some fine print.

Such as,

Regular Day – but if you feel bloated, emotional, ravenous, hysterical, or any other potentially hormonal symptoms, it’s completely understandable and not at all your fault.

But on a “Non-Regular Day,” I have some serious issues.

Although I appreciate the respect of a slight color change in the center of the flower, it is CLEARLY not appropriate to still have a cheery flower and bright background.

That screen best be turning into a dark storm cloud and stay that way until I say it’s okay to go back because that lying happy flower is as bad as Always telling me to Have a Happy Period.

Or, if using a storm cloud would be politically incorrect (as it might upset happy storm clouds to be portrayed in such a manner,) This could totally be the icon:

And finally, on one of the many ridiculously fantastically adorable photos that I put up of my children on Facebook,

(along with the rest of the world,)

(who puts of fantastically adorable photos of their own kids, not mine,)

I got this comment:

I double-heart autocorrect.

The Close of, and The Best of Yittle Fings.

April 16, 2013April 15, 2013 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Kids: The Experience., Toddlers: The Experience

On my now somewhat defunct tertiary blog (this being the primary blog, Alabama Bloggers being secondary, and B-Sides being tertiary,) the best thing I ever did was run a series of forty-seven posts called Yittle Fings. Spanning from July 2009 to August 2012, I recorded all of the most funny, ridiculous, random, and profound things that Ali said.

But, sad as it is to say, Ali has grown out of Yittle Fings.

Now at six years old, she certainly doesn’t pronounce the phrase “Little Things” in a toddler voice anymore. And also, her thoughts and meanderings are much more mature, less flamboyant, and some are more private than they used to be.

But that’s okay – because Noah is now the exact age that Ali was when I began Yittle Fings, and has quite suddenly started talking in full sentences and interacting conversations, so it’s time to start him his own collection. I’m not sure if I’ll record them here or try to revive B-Sides (it seems like a grandparent-only thing to want to read every silly thing a kid says – tell me if I’m wrong after reading this,) but I’ll definitely collect them somewhere.

To properly close the chapter on Ali’s Yittle Fings, I slurped them all into a fifty-six page glossy printed Blurb blog-to-book (I used to do this with my entire blog but kinda ran out of time and energy to keep up with myself.)

I presented the book to Ali and told her that it housed everything funny she ever said as a toddler. She was hooked.

We’ve been reading through it together, and she is both amused and reminiscent, as she actually remembers a lot of her thoughts.

We also bought copies for all of the grandparents, and I told Ali that she should autograph each copy, since technically, she is the author of the book.

And in the process of creating the book, I pulled out my favorite quotes and photos to share with you. I love how they get deeper, longer, and better as time goes on…

July 2009 – 2.5 Years Old.

Ali was bemoaning not wanting to share her snack with some friends that we were about to go see. I explained that she should share, and used her stuffed Minnie Mouse, whom she was carrying, as an example:

Me: “Are you going to share your snack with Minnie?”

Ali: “No. She doesn’t have a mouth.”

Me: “If she did have a mouth, would you share your snack?”

Ali: “But she doesn’t have a mouth.”

September 2009.

When we were coming back from a football game in Tuscaloosa, Ali in full cheerleader garb. She was bemoaning that she needed to tee-tee, and she whined, “I don’t want to tee-tee on my Alabama A!!!”

A few minutes later, she announced sadly, “Alabama caught my poop.”

January 2010 – 3 Years Old.

I was trying to get her coat on her, and explained, “It’s F-F-F-F-FREEEEEEZING outside!!!”

She answered, “It’s not f-f-f-f-freezing. It’s just a little cold.”

~~~~

Chris was getting Ali in the car, and I heard the following conversation:

Chris: “Ow!”
Ali: “I scratched you.”
Chris: “That’s okay, it was an accident.”
Ali: “No it wasn’t.”

February 2010

I did something Ali didn’t like. Twice. And so she told me sternly, “You did it again. Don’t do it anothergain.”

~~~~

Ali found a piece of ribbon, and she kept pulling it around mine or Chris’ wrists. We finally asked her what she was doing.

“I’m measuring you.”

“What are you measuring us for?”

“I’m measuring you to see if you’re a girl or a boy.”

March 2010

We were reading a book, and there was a picture of an angel in it. Ali explained, “We don’t eat angels.”

~~~~

Ali was playing with her Cinderella and a Prince when she had a startling realization.

“That’s not Cinderella’s Prince!! That’s somebody else’s Prince.”

Me: “Whose prince is it?”

Ali: “It’s Prince Phillip. It’s Sleeping Beauty’s Prince. She won’t be mad.”

April 2010

Among the typical stalling methods of probing questions at bedtime, Ali asked, “Is Daddy going to wear HIS princess nightgown to bed??”

~~~~

“I’m Tinkerbell. I have on a fairy dress. I’m a princess. I have bogeys in my nose.”

~~~~

“I just talked to Cinderella. I saw her on Facebook.”

June 2010

Ali: “There were ten disciples.”
Me: “No, there were twelve.”
Ali: “No, Jesus had twelve, but I have ten.”
Ali: “…And you have three and Gramamma has six.”
Me: “What are disciples?”
Ali: “They’re colors.”.

July 2010 – 3.5 Years Old.

Ali was protesting putting on her panties without my help… “But Mommy, I’m a pretty girl and you’re a regular girl, and only regular girls put on panties!!!!”

~~~

“Gramamma would look silly if she took her hair off. She would look all skankily.”

~~~~

We’ve been having a lot of conversations about Noah, naturally [I was halfway through my pregnancy at this point.] I’ve been trying to get her to think about him and what he’ll be like. We had the following conversation:
Me: “Do you think that Noah will have light hair or dark hair?”
Ali: “Light hair.”
Me: “Do you think he’ll have straight hair like me, or curly hair like you?”
Ali: “Straight hair like you.”
Me: “Do you think he’ll have blue eyes like you, or hazel eyes like me?”
Ali: “Blue Eyes.”
Me: “Do you think he’ll like making biscuits with you and Pop?”
Ali: “No! He will like to stay home with YOU when I go make biscuits with Pop.”

[For the record, all of her predictions were right. Except for the last one.]

August 2010

I looked in the backseat on the way home one day…

“Ali, WHY are you sucking on your toes???”

“Because I’m thirsty!!”

September 2010

“Wow Daddy!! Your toot was so loud it hurt my ears!!!! Do you have a picture of it??”

~~~~

Ali, jabbering in the backseat… “I really, really, REALLY like Daddy. Daddy and Poppa and Nana and Gramamma and Pop and Amanda are my favorites.”

Me: “What about me? Am I one of your favorites too?”

Ali: “No, you’re just regular.”

Me: “I’m not one of your favorites????”

(Long Pause)

Ali: “I think you’re one of Daddy’s favorites, though.”

November 2010

Ali is often creative with her after-bedtime-callbacks. Only once has she ever done the typical-kid “I’m Thirsty!!”.

Last week:

“Daddy!!! Daaaaaadddddy!!!!!!!”

Chris goes in… “What, baby?”

“Daddy, my bum is too big!!!”

December 2010

As Ali was sitting on the toilet, she informed me, “Usually poop is brown, and brown is just NOT my favorite color.”

~~~~

Ali is very excited about pink and blue bows on mailboxes, and always points them out and informs us as to what type of baby those people just had. Then, after one of these sightings, she informed us thoughtfully,

“I remember when I was born and there was a pink bow on the mailbox.”

“Oh really? Do you remember being in my tummy, too?”

“Yes!”

“Was it dark?”

“Yes!”

“Was it comfy?”

“Yes!”

“Was it gooey?”

“Eww, No!! Only PUMPKINS are gooey on the inside!!”

February 2011 – 4 Years Old.

Ali kept scratching all over the other day, so I asked her if she had an itch.

“No, I don’t itch.”

“Well why do you keep scratching, then?”

“Because there are ladybugs inside the blood of my skin and when I feel them, I
have to scratch to get them out. And that’s how it works.”

“How many ladybugs?”

“There are four of them.”

“How did they get into your blood?”

“Well, there’s a little hole that opens up in my toe on THIS foot. They crawl into the blood of my skin through that hole.”

“But when you scratch them it gets them out?”

“No. I can’t get them out. They have to get out on their own.”

“But you said…”

“Only they can get out. They have to go back out the hole in the toe on THIS foot. Then after they get out, they close the hole up REALLY tight behind them so it doesn’t hurt me anymore.”

May 2011

“When was Jesus a baby?”
“Two thousand years ago.”
“TWO THOUSAND?!!?!?!? Was that before my nap???”

~~~~

“Mommy! I’ll help you give Noah a bath, because I like to see the circle thingy in the middle of his parts wiggle back and forth when I pour water on it.”

September 2011 – 4.5 Years Old.

Ali was in the backseat, and she started making a siren noise. Then she explained, “That tells you there is something that will get you. A tornado or a bear or a monster. Or a bad robot.”

~~~~

We were out at my parent’s house, and Mom and Ali were picking flowers. All the while, Noah and I were getting swarmed by mosquitoes.

Gramamma: “Okay, Ali – let’s be all done now. Your Mom and Noah are getting eaten up by mosquitoes.”

Ali: “But we can pick some more because that would take FOREVER! Mommy and Noah are big and mosquito’s mouths are teeny tiny. They won’t be eaten all up for a LONG TIME!!”

November 2011

“Sometimes when I’m in my bed and I call you and you don’t come, I think you might have been turned to gold.”

January 2012 – 5 Years Old.

“What if I ate that whole bag of fruit loops?”

(I held it up to her stomach) “Look – it’s bigger than your tummy!! You couldn’t eat it all!”

“If I did, would I die?”

“No, but you might throw up.”

“Well, at least it would be very colorful throw up.”

~~~~

“What if when babies pooped, they pooped out stinky computers full of poop?”

May 2012

“Hey Ali – what’s that all over your shirt?”
“Hmm. Maybe bird poop?”

~~~~

“I had the baddest dream anyone could ever have. I dreamed a wolf was trying to eat me. Then I had the most exciting dream anyone could ever have!! I thought I was in this world and I was downstairs and I was flying all around the house.”

Then she got really quiet and leaned over and whispered, as she was bursting with excitement…

“And, now that I’ve done that in my dream, I’m pretty sure I know what I need to do to fly in this world.”

“Seriously?? How awesome!! What do you have to do?”

“Well, I’ve got to flap my arms really hard – like this. But before I try that, I have another idea too. If I start out running really fast, I might just take off.”

August 2012 – 5.5 Years Old.

“Sometimes, when I’m in the bathtub, I tell the waves to be calm like Jesus – just to see if I can do it too. AND – after a minute — they are!!”

~~~~

And that’s it…three years, reduced to quotes and photos.

I’ll be sniveling over here in the corner if you need me.