Chunk

Mom? Do I look fatter than I did this morning?

Yes. Yes you do.

My nephews and niece are cuter than yours

That's right. I said it again. I posted it on Facebook and I would do it again tomorrow. My family is adorbs. Cutest little kids ever -- I mean, until I have some (DUH)**. First Jack came and I fell in love. I've never been so obsessed with anyone in my life. Until Chunk. Then I had to split my crazy nephew love between two people -- can't handle it!!! AND NOW ANNA? Oh my gersh. Can't handle it. I think my head will explode in March when we have two more Doak boys in the mix.

First my little Charlie Brown!

And then little Chunk. Sweet boy.

Beautiful Anna doesn't have a nickname yet, but I have no doubt she will! How could she not with that face?

Are you kidding? How adorable is he? Heartbreaker alert. This one is going to be T-R-O-U-B-L-E in highschool!

CHUNK! Just....a chunk. Look at his cheeks - are you kidding?

Such a cute toddler. So shy at first and then he gets so adventurous. So cute.

This is such a good baby and momma picture.

Seriously? Could he be any happier with his little mini pumpkin? Adorable.

And really? I mean, Chunk is certainly doing his party by just being adorable, but you've got to hand it to Anne for finding the cutest outfits EVER. Eat. More. Chicken.

I definitely need more pictures of my newest Anna. I haven't sufficiently shown her off to strangers and people at my office. I keep showing the same pictures. I can't WAIT to be in Bermuda for Thanksgiving to spend some quality time with her. I think it's safe to say hundreds of pictures will be taken. LOVE LOVE LOVE these little babies!! Life is just better when you have little ones around that you get to visit. I wish I saw them all more often - end of year resolution!!!! ;) Keep your blogging up ladies. I steal pictures on a daily basis and then brag about my niece and nephews that are cuter than anyone else's. XX!

**This will happen in 5+ years. Don't worry Mom.

Chop Chop!

I swear. Sometimes I think I can convince anyone of anything. Other days....no hope. I can't believe I got Mikael to agree to let me cut his hair. This took about an hour and I cut....ehhhhh....2 centimeters of it. Yeah girl!!! I think it's safe to say this wont ever happen again. Regardless, it was a FANTASTIC time for me. Not so much him. Oh well.

Before he knew what he was getting himself into

It's not THAT bad -- looks pretty straight, right? :)

September 11th, 2011

My 26th birthday!! I'm officially old. That is NOT good. My birthday weekend though, was awesome. Friday night -- dinner at old school Mama's pizza. Shooting back to your childhood is always a solid time -- add the family and my adorable nephews and it's a very happy birthday. I'm so grateful to have such an amazing family -- and here's the kicker -- I actually LIKE them all. What are the odds? ;)

Saturday I went to the pool with some friends. We barbequed, played beer pong, and drank some Doak Punch. (Oh, okay...technically it started as Bailey Punch...but I have now adopted it - BAM!) SUCH a good day! Later that night we all got dressed (me in obnoxious pink, right down to the shoes) and went to Katy Trail Icehouse. My favorite people were there. Unfortunately there were a couple people who couldn't make it that I wish could have (cough cough, my sisters....OKAY FINE. Amy wasn't in the same state and Anne has a newborn. Whatever. Nice excuses, ladies.)

On Sunday I woke up to a text from my mom wanting to take me out to brunch. EXCELLENT plan since I was already planning on a little Sangria action on the day of so my mom, Mikael and I all met up and had a little sparkling sangria. Besides the idiot who was playing terrible music at a ridiculous decibel - it was the same as the rest of the weekend -- amazing!

All in all -- awesome birthday. Thanks for everyone making it feel so special.

Jack + Lizzi = Mahem

I don't really have much to say about these -- I just think they are SO funny. I'm not putting them on Facebook because I look ridiculous -- but look at our faces. LOOK AT JACKS FACES! His expressions are absolutely hilarious. Glad to know I can make him laugh by acting like a total fool. ;)

Carni-Folk

I. love. the. circus. Colors, elephants, jumping, COTTON CANDY. I mean...what isn't to love.

[I feel it necessary to insert here that there is a part of me that hates the circus because of the poor little animals. I mean, no, lets be real...Edgar the Elephant does not want to stand on a podium the size of a pringle can and Ted the Tiger does not want to leap across benches like Liesel and Rolph from the Sound of Music. And lets be real, in order to get them to actually do those ridiculous things, not happy things happen. It actually is really uncool but another part of me wants to be a kid and pretend like that bad stuff doesn't happen. And you know what? I played the kid angle this year okay? Damnit, I deserve a little childhood experience.]

Back to the happy times.I thought it was going to be all kinds of ridiculous and atleast admitted the possibility of it being anti-climactic. Just in case, we decided to bring some party favors to make the experience a little more entertaining. A few bottles of champagne and whatnot later and we were giggling and running to our seats. These people, "Carni-Folk" as my friend and I called them...are crazy. CRAZY I tell you. It's like they have no bones. The tight rope walkers?? The trapeze artists?? $15.00 worth of cotton candy later and I was more hyper than I was when I was 8 years old, had a coke, 4 Fruit Rollups and a gallon of Kool-aid. I mean, it's so way fun. You better believe next year Graham and Jack are coming with.

[Side note: People who abuse animals are poopers.]

Attention Ladies!

I am obsessed with a new braid I've discovered. While I have always dug braids (messy ones in particular) I haven't ever seen this one. I've done the fishtail braids before which I also adore but you sort of have to have long thick hair to pull that one off (I believe that was popular when the infamous "weave" was around....). The latest? The waterfall braid. It's....absolutely adorable. You're welcome.

ALSO! While I'm on a hair topic, does everyone know about the "spin pins"? They're those little spiral pins that look gimmicky and dumb but are actually amazeballs. That is...if you wear your hair in buns. But a chignon? I know the Doak girls love our chignons for weddings and whatnot but they're a pain in the bum to make sure they stay! But now?...a solution to the age old problemo. For real...they're amazing. Only thing I'm really glad I did -- bought the mini ones. I have the finest hair in the world so I knew the ones that were 5 inches long weren't gonna fly so then I saw the minis. Again...another genius invention.

So stupid.

After having this sign hang above my bed for MONTHS, I was looking at it a bit more closely the other day. Notice anything absolutely moronic? Oh. Yeah. That's right -- it says GET'S. WITH AN APOSTROPHE. Ya kiddin' me?? WHAT DO I DO?! I like the sign but I feel like I have to take it down now. It's so beyond stupid I don't even know what to do about it. I'm totally baffled I didn't notice it before. I feel like my IQ just dropped a few points.

A life filled with chalkboards

After I finished my cabinets and BEFORE I started on the quilt in question, I decided I had to do something about my refrigerator. It was that ugly almond color and so boring it made me want to down a bottle of wine and pass out (sorry Mom) just so I didn't have to look at it. So my solution to everything? CHALKBOARD PAINT. Sort of. I have this thing with chalkboard paint and chalkboards in general. They're the sh!t. It can be really clean but messy all at the same time. BRILLIANT. And now you can buy paint so anything (yes, anything at all) can be a chalkboard? GENIUS. I could have a chalkboard stapler or a Chalkboard iphone cover (ooo...I should market that one). I initially wanted to have a whole wall in my apartment be painted with chalkboard paint. I figured, what better way to entertain people when they are drunk and at my house? Major flaws in that plan were A. while my landlord is chill, he might not be totally cool with my sanding the texture off the wall and B. people really don't come over to my house (sad face). I still plan on doing this in a future home of my sometime. Maybe it's not until I have kids (......) but it's going to happen so prepare yourselves.

So I get to thinking. How can I do chalkboard paint without painting my refrigerator? I mean, lets be real...my landlord would really be pissed. Solution? Chalkboard contact paper. Didn't even know it existed but I'm going to say it improved my quality of life by about 3% which in the grand scheme of things is pretty significant. So I got to covering. It took all of 20 minutes and I lovesss it. Everyone else might think it's cooky, but I don't care. Maybe this is why people don't come over...?

Jump back, Martha Stewart

So...I guess most people work better when they are busy (right?) but I REALLY work better when I'm busy. If I don't stay totally on top of being busy, having a new project, etc. I fall in to this terribly lazy slump and I don't do anything. Literally. I come home from work, and sit on my couch. I THINK, "I should clean" or "I should start that new project" but I don't. It takes some big event (or irritation) to get me out of my lazy-coma. About a month ago I had such event (that's a whole 'nother story) and decided I needed some more...productive...ways to spend my time. PROJECT!!!

Dialing landlord: "Hey, this is Elizabeth from 4105. Question. Do you care if I paint my kitchen cabinets? Let's be real...they're heinous." [27 year old kid who works for Dad (my landlord) and has really no authority at all]: "Um, no. I don't care. Josh (his 29 year old brother and even LESS authority)? Do you care if someone at 4105 paints their cabinets? No. That's cool" "Great. THANKS!

By the way...we need to talk about my appliances...but first things first..." And scene.

So...no one tells you how much of a pain in the a$% it is to paint cabinets. I thought, yeah...it will take awhile. Take off the doors, paint the insides and outside, put them back on...but, no. I have the smallest kitchen ever and I wanted to kill myself half way in to it. The only thing that kept me going was I wanted to start on a new quilt (why yes I AM 82 years old...thank you) and I promised myself I couldn't start on that until the cabinets were done. My energy for completing this project really tapered off at the end but somehow I managed to finished it. [Disclaimer: When I use the word "finished" I mean it appears to be finished. There may or may not be a few doors that haven't been painted on the inside. Shh.]

So seriously...it looks like I'm living in a different apartment. It was so heinous it was embarrassing. I guess I should also mention I did my bathroom at the same time which is why it was more of a beating than I thought. Next on my apartment improvement list: jimmy my appliances so they break and can be replaced. I think they were purchased in 1967.

Welcome, Chunk

Oh my goodness! So how have I NOT posted a blog since my sweet little nephew Graham Haymond was born. Worst Aunt ever? NO. BEST Aunt ever. I haven't had time to post a blog because I go and visit my little Chunk (I think that nickname is gonna stick...) every single day. Well. Not every single day...so maybe I'm not the BEST Aunt ever but I'm working on it. And I probably don't have an excuse for my lack of posting but whatever. I try.

I think Mom and Dad have been using the last 5 weeks (I can't BELIEVE he's already 5 weeks) to adjust to being parents. They have certainly had sleepless nights and some setbacks but they have weathered them all pretty darn well. Anne, as we knew would happen, has dressed Graham in a variety of outfits. As expected...the best dressed 5 week old little man I know. Okay...best dressed kid I know actually, but I feel like I'm tooting my own horn a little bit when I say that because he's a Doak. That's right...while he might have Robinson on his birth certificate (eye roll) ...I'm pretty sure he still came out of a Doak tummy (don't argue), so...I'm happy. However I feel compelled to say that the Robinsons are a chill group. Anywho. Not MUCH to report here...(I mean, besides the birth of my second nephew) but pictures really sum it up much better. How adorable is he? Go on...you can congratulate me all you want. Alright, go!

Baby Making Day

Exciting day!! I'm in the waiting room at Medical City not so patiently waiting to meet little Graham. Anne seems to be doing pretty well. She started the pitocin around 10 or 10:30 and it's about 2:00 now. She hasn't progressed which isn't great news, but the contractions are good, strong, and consistent. THAT is a good sign! Hopefully when the doctor comes around at 3:30 she can tell us that Anne has moved forward. We are all crossing our fingers to avoid a c-section because it's not what Anne wants. She looks adorable though which she will appreciate later. Who looks this cute when they are in labor? Very happy soon-to-be Momma. Anyway. I'll update later - hopefully when Graham makes his appearance. ;)

Eenie Meenie

I just thought this was funny. I don’t think you can actually even tell how tiny this sandwich really was. It was almost the size of a post it note. Just made me giggle.

Babies R Robinson

My beautiful sister Annie Fannie is pregnant with her very own little Doak....errrr....Robinson. It has been so much fun to see my sister pregnant. And why, by the way, are we not capitalizing on this Immaculate Conception? We should be millionaires!!

After Mark and Anne told us at Thanksgiving they were preggars, I started asking every week how big it was. “It” started as a poppy seed, then a blueberry, then an olive, then a peach, etc. Eventually “It” turned in to “him” and then “him” turned in to “Graham”. We have all watched his nursery come together (slowly but surely, in true Anne fashion). Besides Anne’s humongous cankles that look exactly like Grandma Bernie’s (ugh…), she looks amazing. She thinks she looks like a swarm of bees stung her but who am I to argue? She has the crazy pregnancy hormones running through her and lets be honest, she already shaved part of my head. What’s next? Nope. Not getting in to that with her face to face. But on my blog where I can say anything I want, I can say it. She looks great and is such a trooper. I can’t imagine having a stomach big enough to hold LeBron James and she really hasn’t complained at all. Well, I imagine maybe to Mark…but not to me. Everyone has read her blog and knows how big this butterball is. While she is a bit nervous about having to deliver this little fatty, I think this is fantastic news. Fat babies are the sh*t. I think Anne probably finds quite a bit of comfort in the fact that our mom (who was a miniature 110 pounds or something ridiculous) gave birth to 5 children that were all 9 1/2 and 10 1/2 pounds. I would think that would give someone serious bragging rights but if you ask my mom she’s like, “ohhhhh it’s nothing.” WHAT? You better believe if I had a baby as fat as Pat (almost 11 pounds…right? Just disgusting) that I wouldn’t be so blasé about the whole thing. BUT. That is one of the many things about my mother that makes her amazing. I feel pretty confident that Anne will give our mom a run for her money.


I can honestly say more than anyone I know, I think Anne will be the most amazing mom. She is fiercely protective of the people she loves. The most important thing you can give a child is love and there isn’t even the slightest possibility that her kids will ever doubt how greatly they are loved. Her creativity mixed with Mark’s wit will make them a fun set of parents to watch raise children. I’m so excited to watch Anne be a mom – it will be so natural for her. I really think some people are just born to be parents. My mother certainly was. I will always believe that her purpose on this earth was to raise children and make people smile. I can’t think of two more fitting people to do exactly the same thing.

Can't wait.

The definition of overdoing it

I come from a pretty pastey family. I’m just going to refer back to Anne’s post a while back. Now…while we can all look like we were extras on the Twilight set, our mom actually has a lot of olive in her skin. THANKFULLY I inherited a combination of my white ass father and my Italian looking mother. I can actually get pretty tan. I look like a used hand bag when I get that tan, but atleast I’m capable of it. Poor Anne can’t get a tan to save her life. She’s either white or red. Period. (No offense Roonie) All of the rest of us are atleast capable of getting a little bit of color. For the past two summers I have decided I would rather be pasty than look like I’m 40 when I’m 30. I really haven’t been out in the sun very much and I’ve gotten several comments in the past few weeks on my “see through skin”. Ugh. Okay. Maybe just a little tan. I’ll just get a little color so the circles under my eyes won’t show so much (thanks for that too Mom and Dad) and I look like I’m living in the same season as everyone else.

So I’m sitting at the pool with my friends they were like, “you’re really white…shouldn’t you really load up on the sun tan lotion?” and I say, “Nah, I put on some oil that has 8 in it…I’ll be good. I can actually get a really good tan”.


Fail.

Just Dirk it

So this picture has been floating around Facebook and it cracks me up. I’m certainly not putting it on FB, and probably shouldn’t even put it on here…but it was too good to pass up. He is so good it’s ridiculous.

A tale of six ducks

I. Love. Ducks. And elephants and penguins…but that isn’t the subject of this post. We showed up at our first kickball game at the JCC and there are ducks waddling through the dug out. I think I shrieked out of giddiness, commented on how cute the little family was, snapped a photo and walked away.

It didn’t really occur to me how they were going to get out of the fenced area (because you have to walk allll the way around the dug out to the other side) until some annoying girl started screaming asking everyone if they were “animal people”. I mean, what the heck were we supposed to do? Pick up the wild duck and her ducklings and politely carry them to a safer area? Yeah right. I like ducks but not that much. So the ducklings are jumping back and forth through the fence because they’re little enough, but the mom is flipping out. She keeps sticking her neck through the holes but then gets stuck. So then she tries another hole the exact same size because well…she’s a duck and she’s stupid. (Whoopsies)

So not only can we not play our game with a bunch of ducks behind home plate, but I’m also worried that this mom is going to kill herself trying to save her family or give herself a heart attack. – Can ducks have heart attacks? I wonder how common that is? – Anyway.

My plan is this. I will simply break the fence, hold it up and scoot the little ducks through the hole. Um. Negative. I can’t break the fence – it’s metal! Oh wait. Found a part of the fence that was already sort of broken (thank you poor city maintenance). So I’m pulling the bottom of this fence up with all my might so this damn duck can waddle under. Unfortunately me being there is scaring her…so while she gets CLOSE to me…she never actually goes under. Finally I found the first aid kit, stuck it under there to hold it up so the humans could step back. She knows something is good about what I did, but again…she’s a duck and she’s stupid so she’s jumping on TOP of the hole I made. The damn duck just can’t figure out she needs to go UNDER. Finally after probably 20 minutes (I’m not exaggerating) she finally figures out what the h she is supposed to do and jumps under the fence with her little babies safely in tow. Lizzi to the rescue. I know, I’m amazing. Who knew I would be such a duck lover? Our childhood dog Smokey scared the sh*t out of me for the whole 48 hours we owned him.

Hopefully they didn’t walk across Northaven and get run over after my heroic attempt to save their lives.

Tiny Wings

Okay, I’m jumping on the band wagon. A friend of mine told me to download the Angry Birds app. I knew about it but didn’t really care to learn how to play and I’m not totally in to video games. Except the original Mario, Duck Hunt, and Contra. DUH.
He let me play it on his phone and it was actually sort of fun, so I downloaded it. Honestly, I think it gets kind of old after awhile but it led me to the subject of this post. Tiny Wings.


It’s the same idea…a lame game that helps you kill time. But caution: This game gets addicting. It’s this little birdie (who is adorable by the way) that zooms down hills when you press your finger on the screen and then flies based on the amount of momentum he gains. It’s your job to know when to press down your finger to give him more and more momentum. If you have a “good slid” you get points. If you get him high enough (tee hee hee…) to touch the clouds, you get points. You have certain objectives and when you check them all off of your list, you get a new nest which just advances you to the next level where you are assigned new objectives. It’s way fun. I’m just saying.

Kickin' it

If you’re young and half-way normal (even if you’re not), you most likely know someone on a kickball team. I’ve always thought of doing it but never took the plunge. Amy (of course) called me a couple of months ago asking if I wanted to be on a team. And so it began. I wont lie, the team is a little random and I basically know no one…but I saw serious potential for fun and an excuse to drink on a Thursday night (now when did I ever need an excuse?). There are a lot of things going on here. First of all, trying to learn the rules. The last time I played kickball was in my fourth grade science class. I mean…it’s like baseball, right? Only problem there is while I love going to baseball games…it’s only for the beer, dollar hotdogs, and the opportunity for a tan. I never actually WATCH the game. What the hell do I know about baseball? General rules of course but…whatever, I’ll figure it out.



Week number 1. Amy sends out an email. She needs volunteers to be head referee and line refs for each game. Ugh.

Long story short, some rando assigned to our team volunteered to be head ref (thank god). Unfortunately…no one volunteered to be line ref. So guess what Doak sisters were stuck in that sticky spot? I would like to take this opportunity to reiterate that the last time I played kickball was when I was like…10 years old and it was geared towards science so I'm pretty sure adult rules didn't apply. Clearly I didn’t know the rules. Some crazy man tried to explain the rules to us about three minutes before the game. Force out? What the heck is a force out? What constitutes a foul? How do you get someone out? Ugh. Amy looked like she was going to throw up and her nervous laughter started kicking in and I was like, “dude, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s just a volunteer kickball league”. Oh. Hmm. Here is a situation that could happen:

Someone kicks a ball and it comes flying at you (duh, it’s a kickball game) and on instinct you lift up your leg to block it.

Whoops. Was that still in play? ……………..Needless to say, the team I helped get to first base was happy and the other team was…not. I had to sit the rest of the game listening to the team behind me talk sh*t. What did I do? Pretend it didn’t happen. I’m too cool for school. Duh.

Whoops….


*I feel it necessary to say that the man in the picture is not on our team. He is from Google. But I really wish he were on our team and my new best friend.

It was Miss Scarlett in the conservatory with the knife!

Well. What an interesting night I had. Remember the feather post? Yeah. Got those in the mail. I was way excited about them so asked Anne if she would help me put them in. I thought, she's crafty, I trust her, etc. Uhm. Yeah.

Lets set up these scene. First off, you need to know how you actually put these suckers in. Basically you have this little bead (think Indian bead but bigger) made out of metal. You have to put a chunk of hair through that, then stick the tips of the feathers underneath that, then clamp the bead with pliers so its holding the feathers and your hair together. Make sense? Great.

Anne and I march in to her bathroom to leave Mark and the basketball game in peace. We talk for a few minutes about where I want the feathers to be and I sit down. Anne tries to figure out how to thread the hair through the bead for a couple of minutes...and pretty soon we're ready to go. I hand her the feathers and she sticks them in the bead. It should be noted that at some point during this process Anne said atleast once, "okay...I'm not a moron." I. BEG. TO. DIFFER.

The picks up the "pliers". Oh. Why is that in quotations you ask? Hmm. Well. Because Anne didn't pick up pliers. Anne picked up wire cutters.

Pause for dramatic effect.

I hear a very loud SNAP next to my ear, Anne shoots across the room laughing so hard she can't even tell me what happened, and I look in the mirror to see stubble. STUBBLE. ON. MY. SCALP. I look at Anne's hands and sure enough -- she's holding all five feathers and a chunk of my hair. Whoopsies. No big deal. I mean...I don't have fine hair or anything. I didn't need those. Right? Wrong. It took about 20 minutes, but she eventually admitted, "I know see the error in my ways". Uh huh. I bet you do.

Why in the world would you think that wire cutters would clamp a bead shut. Take that one step further. Why in the world would you think that wire cutters wouldn't cut the chunk of hair you're holding in your hand? Shockingly, my hair is not stronger than wire. I am not Chuck Norris.

The Weapon:

So Anne. Thank you. You are officially off my "crafty helper person" list and officially on the "mothers who should go no where near people's heads with sharp objects" list. You and Mom are the only people on that list, by the way. Amy, I now understand the humiliation you must have felt when mom cut your hair when you were little and things went terribly awry.

Why I will never be a size 0.

My childhood was legit. Some of my best and worst memories involved food (SHOCKING, I know). There were so many of us and my badass mom used to make dinner every night. Probably because she wanted to make sure we were eating healthy, thought it was her job, but also I'm pretty sure a meal out for 7 people would have been like, $200 at McD's. Good memories though. Seven people all together at the dinner table every night. Usually Michael's legs were stretching under the table and kicking us (grrrrr) and we were constantly fighting about it. The boys in their two chairs on one side of the table and the three girls on a black bench that we had for the longest time. Sam's was a weekly stop. It's probably a sign you need to stop procreating when both the mom AND the dad have their own massive shopping cart at Sam's and they are both totally cram packed full. They used to buy these massive cans of vegetables and apple sauce from Sams -- you know? the cans that are LITERALLY 100 ounces? Sick. It's restaurant style. So many kids. For some reason, I always wanted to carry them in from the car and I ALWAYS dropped them on my foot. I'm pretty sure I had a black and blue big toe for atleast 3 years of my life. My mom used to make mac and cheese that was probably actually pretty good, but she insisted on cutting up these cubes (yes, cubes) of ham and throwin' them in there to give us "protein". Wah wah. It was sick. Meatloaf was often a staple which I still think is all kinds of disgusting and I'm not even going to discuss the meat grinder that was a staple on our countertop. *Shudder*

Not all meals were weird/gross though. My dad used to make these sick hamburgers and my mom would make chocolate shakes from none other than Blue Bell Vanilla Ice Cream (TEXAS, WHAT WHAT!!). She also makes the most insane potato salad ever and her mashed potatoes are still to this day my favorite food. Randomly, one of the best foods was Mama's Pizza. Best. Pizza. Ever. I always used to want to go with my parents to pick it up, but driving home smelling that pizza (even if it was in the truck) was the worst torture I have known to this day. We'd go home and dig the hell in. Mom and Dad would crack open their Coors Original (.....who drinks that?) and we'd call it a night.

Long story short, I drove from Uptown to Parker and Custer today to get myself a Mama's Pizza. I had completely forgotten about it, haven't thought of it in atleast 10 years and it was probably the most satisfying meal I have had in a month (except for the chicken tetrazzini my momma made

recently that was also a classic staple). If you haven't had this pizza -- go get it. The restaurant itself is slightly questionable from the outside but I promise you wont be disappointed. Go. Now. It's amazing.

**After my mom's comment I feel as though I need to add a little addition here. My mom is the shit. Most everyone reading this is one of her children so you know as well as I do -- but in case you aren't -- read carefully. My. Mom. Is. The. Shit. She really is a good cook when she doesn't try to make orange glazed ham balls (another memory I try every day to forgot). As you can see by her comments -- she as an awesome cook. Lots of good memories.

Mini MJ

Oh holy hell. So. The story begins with Anne and I at Neimans a few weeks ago. We had both gotten $50 "perk cards" (FREE MONEY) and decided to go see what we could get. We end up in the kids section (duh!). We both buy little Graham a little sumtin' sumtin' and are happy campers. UNTIL I SEE MINI MARC JACOBS. I'm frantically looking for the boys section only to find out they don't have any. Are you kiddin' me? What do I do? I have to have it. I crossed my fingers and thought, "Dear Baby Jesus, please let Mike and Laura's bambino be a girl. Thanks."

Guess what? Good things come to those who wait. This week we got an email from Mike and Laura telling us that they are going to have a little girl (by the way...can we talk about how beautiful she is going to be? Jeez Louise). So what do I do? Marc (get it? wink wink) my calendar to go back and stock up on some Mini Marc Jacobs for the newest member of the Doak family. And oh my gosh, they still had the two things I thought were so way cute. This outfit is so legit I almost want to keep it for my future child (totally ridiculous thought) but hopefully Laura and Mike will think it's cute too. :) Because I haven't given it to them yet, I can't put a picture of it on here -- so I decided to find some of Marc's cutest "mini" items. Seriously. Can you argue? Cutest things ever. Check out the sweater (bottom left). Pretty sure I need to hunt that down for Graham.

Gettin' my hair did

This whole idea started a few months ago when a girl I know posted a comment on Facebook. She has a daughter (maybe 4 or 5?) that is always WAY done up. Tutus, HUGE flower headbands, cowboy boots, etc. So she said something about how she wanted to put feathers in her hair and I thought, "huh?" so I did a little Google research (my addiction to Googling random stuff could be a blog post of its own...but that will be for another time). Apparently this is a legit new "trend" which actually makes me semi not like it...but whatever. Some look WAY ghetto and some look super cute. I think if you tuck them in under your hair (so you can try and hide them if you need to) and keep them small they could be pretty darn cute. So.........I ordered some. :) I have a feeling this might be a similar situation to the "extension fiasco", but I figure it's way less dramatic. I don't know. Am I crazy? What are people's thoughts? I haven't even gotten them, let alone put them in...so I could still be persuaded to resist. I think it could be fun for the summer though. Who knows. I guess time will tell.

** Disclaimer: I reserve the right to never admit to liking this, doing this, or even considering this if I so choose.

Amy gets the horns

There are no words.

'Ain't no Shake and Bake

I'm such a lucky little girl. My BFFFFFFFFFFFF Blake, also known as Poodle, made me dinner tonight. In the 10+ years that we have been friends, I'm pretty sure this is the first time we have ever eaten something at one of our places that isn't take out. Amazing. And who would have thunk it -- the boy can COOK! Full, fat and happy.

The Jumper from our Past

This deserves it's very own little post. My mother, god love her, still owns clothes from the 80's. Duh. I give my mom credit for actually caring what she looks like most of the time. If she goes out, she pulls herself together, very unlike most women past the age of 45 who have decided to give up. This is not a post to celebrate my moms efforts. This is...incredible. My mother has a jumpsuit from 1982 that has managed to stay in her wardrobe of "must-saves". I didn't realize this little gem had made it through all of these years until I show up at her new house for a painting party. Oh. My. Gosh. People are going to see you in that, Mom. You know people are coming over, right? Yeah. She knew. And I will say...after comments from me, my brother, AND my sister...she still rocked this ridiculous look with her head held high. Props mom. Props.

Shotty Times

When I worked at Cowboys Golf, I got two tickets to Medieval Times from a Christmas party. Worst gift ever, right? No. The On the Border breakfast coupons were worse.

I regifted them to Amy for Christmas that year because duh, if anyone I knew would go to Medieval Times, it would be Amy. She was actually pretty pumped about them. Shocking. I know. So about a year later when they are getting ready to expire, she somehow convinces me to go with her ensuring an amazing time. We initially had tried to get Anne and Mark to actually PAY for tickets and make a "thing" of it...but they declined because they have half of a brain.

That night was quite possibly one of my top 5 grossest experiences of my life. I knew it had something to do with

horses...but oh my god. I had no idea. We walked in, were handed our cardboard crowns (wait, what?), and immediately found the bar. This is the only logical decision we made all night. We bought a bottle of wine and asked for two glasses. Oh wait. Can we have two PLASTIC glasses because the glasses you just gave us have someones lipstick on them. Gag. We sit down in our seats probably sidestepping manure on the way next to a family of 5 that had very clearly paid for their tickets and were all kinds of excited to be there.

So I'm drinking the wenches brew from my goblet and here comes our own little wench-waitress pouring what I believe was old Cambell's Tomato soup out of a black caldren into our pewter bowl. Um, Amy? Where is the spoon? OH WAIT, we are in Medieval Times and they were too primitive to use silverware. Do we stick out like sore thumbs in our Marc Jacobs and Forever 21? Most likely, yes.

Now the show starts. This is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen. I'm so embarrassed for the men with their long nappy hair who come bounding into the arena on their white horses so proud that they have just been promoted to head knight at Medieval Times. I wonder if any of them are available....

About 4 minutes later, we look at each other and decide it's probably a good idea to peace out before the turkey legs get passed around. Here is a little snack for your viewing pleasure:

When God Closes a door....

....He opens another door that is bright teal and way cuter. :)

Blog Alert: WAY random post.

I was looking up kitchens online because my Mom is moving/painting her new place. Not sure how...but I came across this photo and fell in love. I have a door on my wall (...yeah....)...but not a door-door like this. I really want one though so I can paint it a bright color like this. How cute is that?? Only problem? You reaaaally have to commit to that with the black walls (which is why the door is cute, right?).

...That's about all I have. Told ya. Random post. xx

Sunday afternoon with Jack

Guess who came to visit?! :) Little Jack attack. He's so adult now! He runs around, asks for his Momma and is practically going to college next week. He doesn't even wobble anymore! What a little cutie. Hopefully Mom and Dad will let him come stay with me sometime when he's older. ;)

It was awesome of them to bring him over here and see my place. Can't wait for the day that he actually remembers who I am from one visit to the next. :) Oh...and for him to grow hair. He's a smart little buddy...but hasn't quite mastered that skill yet. I'm sure he'll figure it out eventually though. Haha -- in the mean time...he's pretty cute, huh?

I'm quite obsessed. Thanks P&S for bringing the little man over! xx

My little home

This is really just a picture update. Hopefully this will suffice, yeah? Everyone come visit! I have drinks for everyone!! xx

Providence

So Brad commented on my last post about my Westie obsession with a link to a Westie rescue. I DO think that when I get a dog, I'll rescue one, so I did a little research. OH. MY. GOSH. Look at him. His name is Providence. THAT would have to be changed because....lets be honest. Terrible name. I was telling Joe about my Westie obsession and he showed me a picture of his parent's dog that is basically just a bigger Westie - a Cairn Terrier. He is....ADORABLE. His name is Mac...and I want to steal him. Thus....Providence. Obviously not a Westie...but isn't the brown cute? He sort of looks like a Max. I WANT HIM! I hate that I have a job and can't be home with a dog. I think it's unfair to keep a poor dog cooped up in my apartment all day but grrrrr. I want. He needs a little turquoise bandana. Then he would be perfect. :) xx