Black Friday

We loaded up the Loser Cruiser (aka Mini-van) and headed to the Mamaw's house for Turkey Day. It was nice to see the family again and visit with everyone. It was also nice to eat that turkey and dressing (that I didn't have to prepare). :-)

We came home and did a big bunch of nothing the rest of that day. Probably gearing up for what was coming the next day, because Black Friday rolls around and the Mild Mannered Charlotte Ann (stop laughing) is a Sister Sunshine Shopping Maniac!

I got the bug for shopping on the day after Thanksgiving two years ago when I went with Memaw Joyce, and we tore up the town, overflowing the backseat and trunk with treasures reaped at bargain basement prices. Before that day, I'd been one of the people pooh-poohing the entire day saying that I'd pay double for everything not to go and fight the crowds. That was until the day I scored that dual screen DVD player for $149.00 (which at the time was almost half what they were going for) and I got The Fever.

So, Friday morning, I dragged three friends out the bed at 4:00 in the A.M. and off we went! Summer, Joyce, Betty, and I hit the road in the pre-dawn hours to track down the savings. (Well, that was after Charlotte spent oh, like 30 minutes driving around the countryside of Randolph looking for Summer's house which she couldn't see from the road in the dark and ended up traveling all over the county on dirt roads until she stumbled upon the house with some help from The Husband on the phone. And it's shameful to admit, but her house is something like, oh, maybe 1/2 a mile from mine. Sheesh) :-)

After we secured everyone in the vehicle and prayed, we went first to the place of all things necessary...Wal-Mart. We set a time to meet back at the van and off we went into the sea of scowling faces. Now, I make it a personal policy that I AM going to behave as a Christian and I AM going to be smiling and laughing and I AM going to be nice at all times and compliment the cashiers and let others go before me and hand off my buggy to other frustrated shoppers and do all that is within me to behave myself (said committment saved several rude people from a melt down). Of course that's the prayer at 4:00 in the morning before I am coherent and actually have to put that into practice. ;-)

Seriously, it's so much more fun if you just enjoy the hunt and don't get disappointed by whatever comes your way. So, for example, when the $49.00 portable DVD players were all sold out because I made us late to the Wal-Mart, it didn't surprise me one bit when we found them available in abundance at $54.00 in the Target an hour later. Yea!

After those two major retailers, it was time for breakfast. Now, there are some of you out there who are so serious about this shopping thing that you think that the drive through is the way to go, but you are missing out on one very important point of the entire trip. You are out of the house without kids and without your husband. Think for a second. How often does this actually happen in the life of the Mother Bear? I'm not wasting that opportunity on a biscuit in any drive through, no, no, Dear Friend, not me. The best part about shopping on Black Friday is the I-Hop that just happens to be located by Divine Providence on the way to the Galleria Shopping Mega Mall. :-) Food with no Shortie hands in it. YEA!!!!!

Another topic of note, on the thirty minute ride to civilization, i.e., the shopping mall, we passed a carload of folks from our church (hello Alex, Martha, and Melanie!). We then ran into the craziest people from my last church (hello Audrey and April!). Then at the I-Hop we saw another crew (Mitzie, Nannette and their family!). Here's something to think about...in the car with me were three of the craziest people I know. Then we drove past, shopped next to, and ate in the same place with the other people in my life who would make that list of Completely Crazy Fun People. Hmmm...something to think about...so, if you aren't a Black Friday shopper, maybe you aren't very much fun... Ha-ha!

It was a great day for everyone in the van! We got home by 11:30 and the vehicle was so full that we almost couldn't fit ourselves in there. Success!!!

Griswold Christmas

As you can tell by the lack of blogging, it has been a wild and crazy week. :-).

On Wednesday we put up the Christmas decorations (which is always an adventure). This is our first Christmas in this new house, and I wanted to change themes from I-just-had-a-baby-and-didn't-have-time-to-decorate-at-all to "Griswolds". So, after I purchased the amazing gingerbread yard art at the Christmas Village, I decided that it would look really cute to decorate the whole house like a gingerbread house.


Notice the major flaw in this plan is that "I" decided, not "We" decided.

I think that a man who will hang Christmas lights for his wife must really, really, really love her. No one else is stupid enough to do it without large sums of money being exchanged.

The Husband has one Major Christmas Issue and that's with those icicle lights. He hates them with a passion--he has a valid arguement that in our neck of the woods it's common place for at least half of the trailers in the area to just leave the icicle lights hanging year round as some sort of decorative statement of laziness. As a result of this aversion, so we have always hung this single strange of very large white globes along the roof line, which really looks like some sort of stage lighting and not Christmas lights. It certainly doesn't look Gingerbread House, so when I saw the colored icicle lights on the Wal-Mart shelf, I hesitated only a fraction of a second before purchasing and bringing them home.

I also got colored strands of lights to go on the poles in the front of the house, but once I'd put them up, I then took them down to outline the picture window and front door (adding about two hours to the project). It is beyond me how people figure out the wiring for these big yard light-em-up jobs in town. I almost went insane orchestrating the extenstion cords for a string of icicles and four strings of colored lights.

Anyway, here's the end result...


I'm still working out some huge lollipops on the windows and wrapped candies on the side of the house and putting in the candy canes that line the driveway. Elaina suggested on the ride home today that what we really needed was a huge sign that says, 'Happy Birthday Jesus'. She's right; that's exactly what's missing. :-)

Hazard Pay

Last night I hosted the WMU at my house. For those of you who don't speak Christian-ese of the Southern Baptist dialect, that's the Women's Missionary Union. It's basically a group of women from church who get together and pray for missionaries, organize mission projects and outreach events, and we do devotionals based on missions. Oh, and we eat. :-)

So, last night I put my kids in the basement playroom with two youth and let them at it while we conducted our group meeting upstairs. Everything went well. Taking into account of course that Lily peed on one of the babysitters. But this is exactly why we overpay anyone who babysits in the first place. If you are brave enough to care for my wild heathens, you will probably be a) thrown up on, b) have peanut butter/jelly/cheese/apple juice/pizza on some part of your body and/or clothing that wasn't there when you got to my house, c) need a band aid/cold compress/Tylenol at some point in the festivities (not just for the kids, but probably for yourself), and d) before you take the gig you need to grasp that getting peed on is a reasonable job hazard.

This is also why we over tip. The second we are seated in a restaurant I give this same speech to the server, "You have a 45-minute window of opportunity here. I can keep all four of these babies under hand and voice command for exactly 45 minutes from the second we sat in these chairs until we are paying the check. After that, it's Thunderdome, Baby, so let's go ahead and get that pen and pad out because it's Go Time and we are ready to order. Either way we are tipping well to compensate you for the noise; for the eighteen times you will have to refill milk, chocolate milk, tea, and juice; for the cracker smeg we are going to be leaving on the table and under it in such quantities that you will have to find and run a vacuum; and well, just because we are Johnsons."

If things aren't going well or the service or food or chocolate milk happens to be taking a particularly long time, I'll smile and add, "Oh Miss? In almost, oh, 17minutes I'm setting these kids free in this restaurant." That usually does the trick. People from neighboring tables start screaming, "For the Love! Give that table our food, and we'll wait for you to cook our order over again!" (Inside Joke Alert: Shout Out to Walter B. from the Land of Vandiver who will give me a rousing chorus of Amens right here. Walter wakes from his sleep cold with sweat at the mere thought that he might be seated next to us in eateries. In fact, he once suggested that we fax him our weekly dining schedule just so he would be apprised of our whereabouts.)

So, we notoriously overpay for childcare and for restaurant service. Hey, you'd want hazard pay if there is a chance someone is going to pee on you on the job too.

In another funny, we ate at I-Hop with the in laws last Saturday and my children were behaving smashingly well. At a nearby booth, there was a young couple struggling with one ornery 2-yr-old (and that's scarier than a hungry bear, my friend). So, the mother had done everything she could do and she finally turned to her husband and hissed, "Look at that table!" (gesturing wildly at us) "That woman has four kids and they are perfectly behaved and we can't keep this ONE KID in check."

On the way out I stopped at their table and said, "Don't worry, it gets easier the older they get," and smiled my best sympathetic smile. I know it's wrong to lie like that, but if I told her about the Cracker Barrel Incident of 2004 when we left prematurely because of the syrup fight and exploding diarreah diaper that covered two children and me and the booth and carpet and server, she might never procreate again.

Hair-Do

As fate would have it, ten minutes before our family portraits were made on Wednesday night, Lillian Grace got a wad of bubble gum stuck in her hair. No, not totally true. During her nap, she must have gotten the bubble gum stuck in her hair because it was dried firm when we found it. And of course, the wad of gum was not at the bottom of the length of her hair, but about five inches up.

So, after a screaming fit about no more gum in the house ever again as long as we live (which is like the fifth time The Husband has given this same ultimatum), I struggled with the gum for about five minutes (seconds) and then got a pair of scissors and hacked away at her head. It looks like a dog chewed the child's hair off at the ends. So, I have difinitively proven yet again that we can safely scratch "hairdresser" off of my list of accomplishments. We may have to shave her head like we did Carter's after he scalped his bangs off last year...

All the news that's fit to print.

So, I’m reading the "news" this morning, and this is an actual headline on MSN: "How to Date While Pregnant" Ummm...I’m not sure when pregnant and dating became an acceptable, newsworthy story item. (And everyone thought I was crazy when I proclaimed that the Bratz dolls were a plague on our society. No shocker there, when we have Hooker Barbies on an entire aisle of the toy store, we then aren't allowed to be shocked and mystified about birth control being passed out without parental consent in the Middle School to 11-yr-olds and MSN giving us "pregnant and dating web tips" as "news".)

(Note to self: no more caffeine after 9:00 a.m. The rants are starting earlier and earlier.)

And in other news, I’m speaking at our local County Ministerial Assistants Banquet in December and in the advertisement they listed me as: "Enjoy Bible teacher, speaker, and humorist Charlotte Johnson."

I got tickled because that is pretty good--"humorist". Usually when people ask me what I speak about or what I do in these programs I say, "Ummm...well...I sort of...hmmm...tell funny stories...not jokes...because I'm not a comedian exactly, but I tell real life stories, but they are really funny stories, and then I apply them to a greater principle...blah, blah, blah." It sounds like I have no idea what I "do" (maybe because I don't).

I think that now I’m going to steal that descriptive: I’m a Humorist. :-) Cool.

We're sort of running crazy right now at the house with so many things going on at one time (humming a few bars of It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas under my breath)

Our church is doing a new directory, and we are having our family portraits made tonight; our church also sponsors an Upward Basketball league and evaluations are ongoing this week at night; Steve is helping a family with a funeral today/tomorrow; he's also speaking at a local elementary school tomorrow afternoon; I'm hosting a women's meeting at my house tomorrow night that involves a full house cleaning and making food (thank goodness for those dip mixes I bought at the Christmas Village, whew); we're having kids sleep over at the house on Friday night; we have a youth mission project on Saturday afternoon; we've got the big Thanksgiving service coming up Sunday evening; and the youth project continues on Sunday afternoon as does the training for coaches and referees for the basketball thingy right after morning services.

And then we have a second grade field trip on Monday (which is going to require its own rant because they are asking parents to follow the bus and drive their own vehicles up there 45 miles from the school and then, oh, hey, we're real sorry, but there isn't room in the actual planetarium for you, so you'll have to wait outside with the other parents while the kids and teachers go in and see the program and parents, don't forget to bring your own lunches and pay your way in. Funny, we can't figure out why we can't get chaperone's, do-de-do-de-do...[note to self: try not to rant pre the actual rant anymore]) and then we have flu shots and I have no earthly idea when exactly am I going to put up the Christmas tree and decorations and bake and shop and wrap and, and, and...?

Wait, I can't type anymore, my left eyelid is twitching. I think I just blew a fuse or something. Speaking of that Wife Swap thing a few posts ago, anyone want to trade? Anyone? Anyone? Hello? (tap, tap, tap on screen) Is this thing on?

Various Illnesses

I've been out of pocket for a few days with a wicked stomach flu. Lovely. I was supposed to speak at a youth event on Saturday night and had to ditch them at the last minute because I couldn't stand up straight. Ugh.

To the youth at The Springs: I promise that I'll make it up to you and Ms. Marilyn and Ms. Tracy! I'll be extra special funny at the next opportunity! But rather than infect the entire youth department, perhaps it was best that I stayed home. :-)

So, I thought I'd share this brief funny and call it a night...let's play a game: I have one free-spirited twin and one very literal twin. So who did which craft? Elise or Elaina?




Elise: "Mom, she can't even get her craft right. It looks all stupid and stuff because the leaves aren't on the ends of the branches."

Elaina: "Well, duh, it's fall and they are 'falling leaves' so mine is more right than yours is. Now who is stupid and stuff?"

On Friday, Steve and I cleaned the house together (ahhh...so THAT'S why I'm so sick--housework aversion). Anyway, these are photos from Saturday morning that I took for fun since I was so proud that the girls got up and made their beds...




And this is exactly 22 minutes later when they got dressed to go out and play...


I'm pretty sure what made me so sick. Now you know why I laugh at those stupid shows like "Wife Swap" cause no one could hang over here, Baby.

Pumpkin Patch

I went with my son's kinder-garten class on a field trip to a pumpkin patch working farm in our area. It was really a great outing--the school and teacher were very organized and the Old Baker Farm was lovely. The kids had a ball--Carter slept the hour-long ride home and that's always a good indicator of how it went.
We got to do interesting things like pick cotton (which was only interesting because we were doing it for 'fun' and not to make a living). Mr. Baker told us that a pair of jeans has about $1.30 of cotton in it and a shirt has about $.60. Whoa.


It's not every day that you get to pet a chicken. Some observant mother made the comment that it was sort of ironic that they hauled a bunch of kids who are from the country to look at the country. Most of the kids in the class own chickens and pigs and cows and horses. (Obviously not us.)

There was a big corn maze for older kids, but we were happy going through the hay bale maze...


Picking the 'perfect' pumpkin. Carter got his home and named it Carlos Johnson. Then his sister proceeded to draw the Four Faces of Carlos on it with a Sharpie: happy, sad (crying), angry, and sleeping. Then they wrapped Carlos in a baby blanket and took him to gymnastics class and to Memaw's house for dinner. Okay then.