It’s Guacamole Not Guacamagic

It’s Guacamole Not Guacamagic

My goodness, do I love Chipotle! They have the best guacamole in the city. I’d say the state but Little Donkey in Homewood has the best in the state. Their guacamole is like magic. I don’t know if you have a Chipotle in your neck of the woods but we have one right around the corner from our house. We go there WAY too much.

It’s crazy crowded at lunch time and you usually end up sitting by strangers. It’s one of those restaurants that has long bars to sit at instead of tables. Since I’m a big extrovert I don’t have a problem with that. Bring on the strangers! The more the merrier and all that.


Last week though? Even though it started like your typical visit to Chipotle it didn’t end that way. The restaurant was packed so I sat down at the corner bar. No sooner had I arranged my stuff when a young guy and girl sat down right beside me and began to shoot the breeze with each other.

At first it was the typical stuff. ‘How have you been?’ and “How’s your brother?’ Then, without warning, the girl looks at the guy and says:

“Remember when we used to date? Maybe we should try that again.”

Like a boss, girl! You go!


“Even I know you’re not supposed to eavesdrop.”

Shhh. Go away, child.

Well, of course, I was all in on this conversation. I didn’t even have to try and eavesdrop since the girl was talking so loudly and we were packed in so tight.Their conversation started out perfectly. It was like magic and romance and stars in the sky and, darn it all, the cutest Taylor Swift song you can imagine. They brought up all the good times and remember how even grocery shopping was fun together. I just knew they were going to reconcile and the Chipotle guacamole was going to work its magic!

And then came Rochester.

Now I don’t remember who brought up Rochester. I don’t know whether they were talking about Rochester, New York or Rochester, New Hampshire but where ever it was, it did not go well for them in that city. In fact, it sounded so bad I don’t even want to go to a city named Rochester, like ever.

Things got even chillier after that. The mere mention of Rochester soured them both to the idea of ever getting back together. Finally he said ‘don’t ever mention Rochester to me again!’

I thought they might part on peaceful terms at least but then he had to go and complain about her dog.

‘Well, at least my dog doesn’t disrespect me in front of my sister!’

And that friends, was the end of the idea of getting back together. She picked up her trash, swished her ponytail, and walked out of that place with her head held high.

What can I say? It’s guacamole, not guacamagic.

Sunday Coming Not So Softly…

Sunday Coming Not So Softly…

Saturday night we saw Mad Max in the theatre. I spent 50% of the time being in awe of the movie and the other 50% thinking of ways to get Billy to agree to let James, the twelve year old, see it. Alas, it’s not going to happen.


Fifty percent of the people in this picture are allowed to see Mad Max. 

Sunday we went to church. Church cracks me up. Not because the preacher is particularly funny, even though he is funny enough as preachers go, but because I catch myself behaving like a general lunatic whilst attending.

Here’s your example:

The pastor will say something along the lines of ‘it’s good to pray for one another‘ and in my head I immediately think ‘that’s right! Billy does need to pray for me!‘ Or he’ll say ‘spend some time reading the Bible‘ and I’ll think ‘Uh huh! Billy sure does need to read his Bible.’ Basically whatever the pastor says I turn it around and use it against Billy.

I’m sure that’s exactly what the pastor intends when he preaches – for all the people out in the audience to  think of reasons their friends need to hear the sermon. I’m just the worst. What the heck is wrong with me?!

If I’m not casting side glances at Billy I’m trying to make Stella behave. Lately all my kids have been boycotting their classes and attending the sermon with us. I have no clue why. Their classes are great. Bible, Beer, and Babies is all about her kids being in the sermon with her – its a new thing for me, though.

So, Stella drives me nuts by standing up and squirming, and dropping a thousand things and asking to go to the bathroom. The bad news is we sit smack dab in the front. That’s my fault. I have ‘can’t pay attention in big church’ issues.

The positive news is that we sit directly in front of a large contingent of hipster singles so, hello, birth control for them!

An added bonus to having her in the sermon? She’ll randomly pick up on things the pastor says and loudly make remarks on them while he’s talking. And she’s the absolute queen of taking things out of context.

“Did he just say dat da world hates us? Why does da world hate me? Dat is so sad!”

Every Sunday after church we go to Phil Sandoval’s. A couple reasons for this, the first being, hooray for Mexican food. The second being it opens at 10:45 and we get out of church at 10:30. So a win on both counts.IMG_3728

Being home by 11:45 on Sunday makes the day seem so long. Plenty of time to go to the creek, ride our bikes, and listen to the kids complain.


The complaining? That’s because last year we instituted a ‘No Screen Time Sunday’ rule. We just needed one day where we didn’t have to hear ‘can I get this app’, ‘can I watch this show’ and ‘is it my turn on the X Box.’ Mercy, we hear it enough!

The problem with it being on Sunday is then the kids have this dread of Sunday. It’ll start Saturday night. ‘Ugh, tomorrow is Sunday!’ they say. ‘The worst day of the week. No screen time!’ 


Well, we’re a work in progress.

Kinda like me listening to the sermon…definitely a work in progress.

La Dolce Sunday: May 17

La Dolce Sunday: May 17

Time for another edition of La Dolce Sunday. Where I give a shout out to the coolest stuff I came across this week!

Let’s just get this one out of the way: Is this the greatest t-shirt ever? Yeah, pretty much. It’s from the Trendy Sparrow on Etsy.


Billy and I had a rough Mother’s Day so I felt justified in paying the $40 for it. Yeah, I’m super mature like that.

As for my favorite blogs of the weeks…

This was a beautiful and uplifting piece about losing and finding your mother by Jessica Hoover: 

It frightened me how the grief choked me to my core. 38 weeks pregnant, lying on my bed fending off a cold and all the questions rolling around in my brain. Sobs rocked my body and threatened to crack me down the middle.

My husband tenderly asked me what was the matter and after what felt like a short eternity of tear filled gasps I managed to lisp out, “I just miss my mom so much. I want her to be here to take care of me.”

My mom didn’t die last year. No, she died when I was twelve. I’ll be thirty-one in two weeks.

Colleen at Blessed are the Feet has a fantastic piece this week about celebrating your kid’s growing up instead of bemoaning it.

And all I could think was how I wanted to gather all the mamas who have walked this journey with me and are snapping shots of these almost adults and shake them and say, “Y’all! We did it. I mean, not all the way, but we are doing this thing! This motherhood thing. And we are doing a darn good job too! Look at these amazing people we grew inside ourselves and then grew outside ourselves and who are now almost all grown! They are incredible. And we raised them!”

Yes, we will grieve for their growing up and growing away, but, mamas, this was the thing all along. And we are rocking it!

And finally, let’s all take a moment of silence for this beautiful ponytail. I just couldn’t take the heat anymore and chopped it off.


The ponytail is dead. Long live the ponytail.