Paint my front door

There are very few rooms in this house that I am willing to paint. As much as I would love to have color on our walls, I hate hate hate taping baseboards, cleaning paintbrushes, and I never seem to have ANYthing resembling luck with that blue paint tape. Those commercials are beyond me, where they peel off the little strip of tape and they have this glossy white line where absolutely NO PAINT has seeped through. Really? I've painted before, and it just doesn't work like that. So the one thing that we ARE going to paint is our front door. It's currently white and it's so BLAH. Our attached neighbors' door is still white too, but they've completely painted the inside of their house, so I'm sure it's only a matter of time before they hit up the door. Our other next-door neighbor's door is purple. A few people did odd red-white-blue artwork on theirs. I've seen one up the street that's bright green. SOME people (the very All-Army gung-ho folks) paint the door in the same pattern as their battalion insignia/flag/WHATEVER, and while it looks good on their house, it's not something that we want to do with ours. To refresh your memories, here is a picture of our house, circa 2 weeks before we moved in.

The front interior door is open, so what you are seeing is the outside storm door, which is something we can't change the color of. We have this strange orange-y stucco-type stuff around the door and stoop, as well as on the side and back of the house. So there's that to consider too. I'm thinking that the only plus to this ugly orange-y stucco is that we could paint our door some type of blue and call ourselves "school spirited."

Thoughts? Suggestions? Should we go with something other than blue? Didn't I look so well-rested back then? I'm noticing minimal baggage under the eyes.

Like I really expected him to say something else

Sam is now calling Steve, "Dada."

"Dadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadada!"

.....

He is still communicating with me through high-pitched squeals and bird calls.

Food fight

Getting Sam to eat lately has been somewhat of a challenge. No, that doesn't describe it accurately. More like an EPIC BATTLE that no one wins. Since the dawn of Cheerios on our household, Sam does not want to be fed ANYTHING off of a spoon. He can stuff those Cheerios in his mouth on his own, why does he need me feeding him pureed sweet potatoes on a spoon?? (Because you can't pick up pureed sweet potatoes with your fingers, THAT'S WHY, SON.)
So we have been having these screaming tantrums (yes, both of us) when it comes time for his three daily feedings and they usually end up with me covered in a lot of pureed food while Sam sits there eating a lot of Cheerios. After having a leftover BBQ chicken breast from last night's dinner, I decided to cut it up into tiny, little, OCD-like pieces and give it to Sam for lunch today.

Hm. So far, so good.

What is this?

It's barbeque chicken and you're going to love it.

Yeah Mom, I'm not so sure.

It takes my snaggleteeth a lot longer to chew this up than it does my Cheerios!

Oh look, a bird!

Focus Sammy. Lunch shouldn't last three hours.

I knew that giving you a seat with a view was a mistake. Remember, if you eat some more chicken, you can have some.... Cheerios!

But I don't WANNA eat any more chicken!

I need CHEERIOS. NOW.

You won't get anything pitching a fit like that.

Nope. That's still considered a fit. Just a more silent one, which I appreciate.

I just had a rare siting of Sammy No-Neck's neck! OMG!

Huh? Where? I didn't see it.

Strange. Hey, maybe you should try another piece of chicken. You know what they say, the eighteenth time is a charm.

Ok Mama.

It feels kinda funny. Not like Cheerios.

I know, baby. It's better than Cheerios. Try a bite.

 

Ok. Here goes nothing.

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

Sammy, say something! All of this chewing and judging Top Chef-style is killing me!

Oh I like it, Mama. I like it a lot. But can I have some Cheerios now?

<sigh> Ok. I guess. You did throw a lot of chicken on the floor. And down your pants. And a few pieces made it into your chomper.

Mom! I'm done! Get me out of here! Spending two hours on lunch is ENOUGH!

And for all of you who I know are just DYING to get your hands on that chicken recipe, well, here it is:

Pour the BBQ sauce of your choice over some chicken breasts. Cook at 350 for 45 minutes. Voila. Dinner.

Two years deserves a lot of food apparently

Steve and I celebrated two years of marriage on the 8th. Of August. (I know, it's been since JULY that I've posted anything on here.)

Here we are, all pre-kid and pre-Army and pre-disastrous honeymoon (THANKS DELTA).

While we were down in south Alabama this past week (I know, where else would we spend August 8 of every year?) for my friend's wedding, we had the opportunity to drop off the nugget with my folks and head for the beach! White sand! Clear water! Cool breeze! Gulf shrimp! Naps and UNINTERRUPTED SLEEP as far as the eye can see!!!

It. was. AWESOME. We went to Destin and stayed at a (ironically) very kid-friendly hotel on the beach. We had scheduled to go on a deep-sea fishing trip, but got word the day before that it was canceled due to strong tides and currents and whatnot. I was somewhat relieved that it was canceled because Walmart did not carry the anti-puke-over-the-side-of-the-boat-patches that I had been looking for. And I didn't want to be that person. I was bummed for Steve that we didn't get to go though because I knew he was really looking forward to catching some giant colorful fish and talking about his fishing experience for months on end when we got back. We still managed to have fun though. (Duh!)

We ate at the Melting Pot on our anniversary. I have a couple of things to say about that. First of all, cross it off the list. Secondly, they really should make a few changes. Maybe a little booklet of What To Expect When Eating At A Fondue Restaurant For The First Time, since the waitress looked at us like we were from another planet when we said that we had never been there before. Also, they want you to cook your meat in this little pot of boiling liquid for two minutes. But.... there is no timer device given to you. So we used my phone (I know, everyone has a phone timer these days), but while we were eating the few pieces of meat that we had cooked, I would inevitably lose track of time and overcook the next thing that we had in the pot. I would also suggest that they construct some sort of indoor track for diners to walk on between each course. This might allow for folks to come wearing something other than stretchy pants (I'll have you know that I wore a stretchy DRESS- keepin' it classy).
All in all though, it was good. We had some yummy food dipped in cheese, some okay meat (not a favorite of mine since the two minutes in the boiler does not stop the clucking and mooing), and some delicious desserts dipped in CHOCOLATE. I told Steve that I would most likely need to be rolled out of the restaurant, straight onto the luggage cart at the hotel and rolled directly into bed where I could fully regret every single thing that I ate.

Steve eating cheese-covered broccoli- a decision we would all regret shortly.

The meat portion of the meal- starting with the ooey gooey (top right) and going clockwise- shrimp, tuna steak, chicken, teriyaki beef, and in the center, more beef. All surrounded by various sauces and such.

The dessert portion of the meal. My mom said it looked a little skimpy. But after eating all that cheese and meat, this looked like waaaaaaaaay too much. Obviously we found room for this. I can always make room for chocolate.

This might be the only reason we EVER come back to a Melting Pot. Dipping various goodies in chocolate and then not having to clean up the hardened mess the next day? Most definitely worth it.

We went to a place on the beach for lunch the next day that I had read wonderful reviews about. All the reviews raved about the great view of the Gulf and wonderful seafood. Since we had been on the beach all morning, we threw on some clothes over our (wet) swimsuits and headed over there. We get to this restaurant and are told that we can sit outside if we want, but it's REALLY hot and we could seat you inside? So ok, whatever, we'll sit inside. But we sit down at this table covered in a linen tablecloth and look around to see all of the other diners wearing business suits and lots of jewelry and pantyhose and such. Clearly we should have kept insisting on being seated outside. Anywhoodle, we got the lunch special and surprisingly, it was what we expected to pay for lunch (before seeing all of the fancy people in real clothes!). I was a wee bit worried at first that lunch was going to rival the Melting Pot in cost. Thankfully, it did not. We got the soft shell crab sandwich and get this- you can eat the SHELL. It was weird but good. I obviously recommend it. I also obviously do not recommend sitting in the same seats that we sat in because, well, they are most likely still drying out.

We went back to the beach, where red flags were out and kids were getting tossed around by waves like kites in the wind. Lucky for us, the people-watching was pretty good and there were also a couple of pools at our hotel that we could hop in. Poor Steve was always surrounded in the pool by the MOST OBNOXIOUS kids EVER. And it's not like it was a small pool. They were just drawn to him I guess. I, on the other hand, must put off a nice Stay The Hell Away From Me vibe that the kids pick up on pretty quickly because I had no problems with the little hellians.

For dinner (because all you really care to know about concerning this vacation is the FOOD, am I right??), we went to Pompano Joe's. It was another seafood place on the beach and we had heard great things about this place as well (though mostly, "The wait is so worth it"). So we waited for over an HOUR AND A HALF thanks to a lovely storm that blew up suddenly. These hoity-toity people were freaking out about their reservations and getting rain on their hair and how much LONGER could they possibly make us WAIT??? It was all very amusing and made the time tick by a little faster. I'm sorry I have no pictures of that meal. It was beautiful, but it was also after 8pm (which, in case you didn't know, is bedtime around these parts) so we literally INHALED it and then I realized that I didn't snap a picture of it. Oh well. We split a fish plate (Steve had an Amberjack fillet and I had JUMBO! GULF! SHRIMP!) but got our own desserts. Steve had key lime pie (of course!) and I had a hunk of chocolate-chocolate cake (YUM). It was perfect. And the storm had blown over by the time we were leaving.

Sorry! Crappy iPhone picture at sunset!

Suffice it to say, I was PETRIFIED to step on the scale this morning. But get this, after eating all! that! food! I only gained two pounds. Two pounds! So totally completely 100% worth it!

And not to completely glaze over Brittany's wedding! It was beautiful. She looked GORGEOUS and everyone's dresses fit (Amen!) and no one tripped down the aisle and I didn't even shed a tear! I had fully planned on losing it (all signs at the rehearsal pointed to me losing it in a very ugly way), but thanks to some heavy breathing (says Rebekah, fellow bridesmaid), I pulled through without a ton of runny makeup. I didn't take my camera with me, but I have no doubt that some unflattering pictures of me will surface. Give it time.