Winner Winner Chicken Dinner!

Ok, so maybe I wasn't exactly old enough to gamble when I married Aaron,

but I definitely hit the jackpot.

I totally forgot that my guy can bowl.

Which is awesome,

except that he and I made a bet before the game

and I lost.
I really don't like to lose.

Aaron scored the highest out of the 10 people we bowled with on Saturday

I scored the LOWEST.

I also came in DEAD LAST in the go-cart challenge.

So maybe I did the walk of shame in the bowling alley with an "L" on my forehead
and maybe I was so far behind on the go-cart track that I actually almost got lapped by Jimmie (I would have let him though, since it was his birthday and all)

but on Saturday, for once, I really didn't care that I was the loser.
I was the lucky girl who went home with the winner.

Does this mean I get to be the trophy wife?
I'll take it.

These are a few of my favorite things

A little Friday love...

I took this picture while out "treasure hunting" yesterday.
I think the little guy on the right needs to come live with me.


I've collected a few others. (all antique ladder back style for $7, baby!)

I can't wait to get to work on them. Crusty chair = cool.  Nasty old fabric? Not so much.
Pictures soon.

PS-I have made a whopping 0.0% progress in the table department.
I can't make up my mind on what type of wood to use, and whether or not I want to use cool, old wood with a story to tell, or take a less labor intensive route and just buy some pine at Lowe's.
I think I need to make another visit to my buddy Glenn Beck.  

Some inspiration:

 

image from here 

What would it be like to have the space for a 10 ft table? 

The words you're looking for are freaking awesome.

http://www.garyfosterfurniture.com/

 

This table is $3,300.00

and that guy is $3,995.00

Really.

Love this one:

Gonna shoot for something like this. ($2,725 here)

I'm not sure if I'm in love with the runner, and if I decide to go with reclaimed planks or aged wood for the top, I just might paint or wash the base. 

Too many choices, not enough dining space.

...and as for spending thousands of dollars? 

Get real. 

gimme 50 bucks....maybe $75.

I just need to make a decision! 

But until then...

At least I have chairs.

{Be Mine}

I felt inspired yesterday.

...I made these

...and these

...and these

Happy Valentine's Day!

Do something sweet for the people you love.

Signs of Insanity.

I do crap like this all the time.

No, really.
Like all the time.

"It's just a shimmy and a shake, oh-ho I can't fake..."

Sometimes, you have to do things that you just don't wanna do.

I pre-registered Reese for Kindergarten today.  
{deep breaths into paper bag...}
After I filled out all the online paperwork, I was emailed a confirmation number, and told that she is not actually registered until March, when they have the official registration days.

I've concluded that the purpose of pre-registration is to give moms like me time to let it sink in that she indeed will be going to school next year.

Hopefully, by march, I will have come to terms with reality and not have a heart attack at the registration counter. 

Reese Olivia age 5

Showing off her play dough snowman

and for kicks...

Megan Elise age 5 

Showing off her bad haircut

Stranger Danger

I dragged the girls all over Rogers, Ar yesterday on a wild goose chase for a Mexican supermarket.  At one point, I thought we'd finally found it and I pulled into the parking lot shouting "Victory!!!"

I found myself parked in front of a salon, an aquarium supply store (I think), an exotic plant store, a video rental place/law office (yes, really), a restaurant, and a supermarket.

Unfortunately, the directions I followed took me to little Asia, and NOT little Mexico, like I had hoped, and most of the store fronts were decorated with both letters AND chinese character-like symbols.  I'm not sure where I went wrong, but finally brought myself to accept that I was a clueless, lost white girl and went to Sams Club, where I belong, for samples and a soft pretzel.

While at Sams, my one and only Hispanic friend here in Arkansas, returned my call and gave me directions to the Mercado she uses, but I was exhausted by that point, and the kids were just done.

But the directions to the mercado ended with "and it's right next to a place called Vega Taqueria---that place has THE BEST TACO'S for only $1 each."

SOLD!

We were back on the hunt.  We found the mercado quickly, and I purchased some beans.  When it came time to checkout, Quincy spied a bucket of chocolate covered bananas in a freezer by the counter.

Now, far be it from me to refuse my children something delicious.  But these were no  DAD's frozen bananas.  These things looked nasty.  Like at least a week old nasty.  So, needless to say, I said, "No" to Quincy.

Meltdown.

Time for the car.
But dang, I want a taco! I'm so close!  I looked at Quincy, and decided it was one of those days where I needed to just be a mom and take my kids home for naps.  Tacos will be there tomorrow.

The guy at the counter then reached into a little box behind the counter, and on our way (kicking, crying, screaming, dragging) out the door, handed each of them a small candy wrapper and said, "Chocolate?" but with his deep rich voice and thick accent, it came out more like, "show-co-lah-tay?"

Crying stopped immediately. 

Nice.
Even in Spanish, they know what that word means.  Of course, had it been me saying, "cállense" or "silencio" I'm certain that those crocodile tears would not have dried up so rapido.

I was initially mad.  Who gives my kid candy without asking me first?  Didn't he see her freaking out?  Who rewards that kind of behavior?  What about food allergies?   Why are my daughters taking candy from a stranger with such free will and happiness?  This is ridiculous.  Isn't parental approval a general rule in society before you give a young child a piece of candy?
I was about to protest, but then I saw the smile on Quincy's face.  It was pure joy, and it got the better of me.  I decided that it just wasn't worth getting upset.  Plus, now that the kids were cute and happy, why not go next door and get some tacos?  She needed a piece of chocolate like I needed tacos.

We go next door.
We sit.
I order 3 carne asada tacos with avocado, and some beans and rice for the kiddies.
The restaurant is full of people, but basically silent, because everyone is busy stuffing their faces with food.
A very good sign, 'cuz after the crazy tantrum I had dealt with in Pueblo Mercado,  I needed me a good taco. 

Ahhhh silence.

"MY MOUTH IS BURNING, Mommy!!!!"

"What?  Shhhh, we are in a nice---well, shhhh we're in a restaurant!"

"FIRE!!!! WAAAAAH!!! It's BURNING!" 


and then
"Oooh, mine, too! Mommy, Gross! It's burning Mommy! I want water!"

Huh?

then:

"THIS IS YUCKY CHOCOLATE!!!"

Uh Oh.

I grab the wrapper from Reese's hand:

Um, yeah. I may have gotten a D when I took Spanish in high school, but it is my understanding that when you say "Chocolate" you actually mean Chocolate, NOT a stick of Pulpa.

Ok, so for those of you who don't know what Pulparindo is, well... Mexican's don't mess around when it comes to candy. Hot and Salted candy = friggin' hot and salty.  Pulparindo is chili powder and salt smeared on a weird piece of fruit leather that resembles the filling in a fig newton. (no, not the strawberry or apple newtons. FIG newtons....remember their slogan? "It's not a cookie, it's a fig newton."  Spot on.  Fig newtons were so nasty that no branch of the cookie family tree could possibly claim to be related.) I think the fruit leather part is made from some kind of root.

In summary: Pulparindo = not chocolate. 
Not chocolate at all. 

The waitress (bless her) brought out some chips and water, then turned on the tv in the corner.

Dora, of course.   Maybe she can teach my children that when you throw a fit in Pueblo Mercado, you can expect to get burned. 

Oh, the best part?  I wanted a photo of the candy for this post, so I googled "De La Rosa Pulparindo Candy" and that's when I found this article.  

Awesome.  

Not only are my kids' mouths on fire, they also have lead poisoning.

Throw in a one-armed-man somewhere and I think I could safely say, 

"And THAT'S why you don't take candy from a stranger."