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Great SB photo shoot with Caleb Wilkerson tonight. Keep an eye out for some pics of our smashing models on our website!
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I have tons of stuff to do before Thanksgiving in two days! This is the first time we are hosting the Turkey meal at our house. I’ll have to post some pics.
And then there’s the downtown Parade of Lights watch party we’ll be having at our place as well. In the words of Wylie-poo, “It’ll be fuuuuuu-uuun!”
But first, I’m trying to finish up a couple of new products for a SB photo shoot tomorrow night with the famous Caleb Wilkerson. Pretty stinkin’ excited!
Speaking of famous…
A couple of months ago we were asked by a friend (who owns the hippest store in Oklahoma City) to do some photo and video shoots for their new marketing project for the store. We said “yes,” of course. Jbird actually blogged about it here. It was tons of fun getting to try on all the clothes and meet all the amazing people.
I have yet to see the television commercial, but these photos just popped up on their website and I thought I’d share.
Check out Blue Seven for all your quirky and unique Christmas gift buying needs!
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We had live music in our house a few weeks ago! We had a greeeeeaaaat time and my hubbster blogged about it here. Thanks to everyone who came out and made it stinkin’ uh-mazing.
And thanks to our friend, .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address), for making this video for us to entice you to come to our next one. I’ll keep you posted.
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Sunday, after church, I took my adventurous redheads to one of our state parks, Quartz Mountain, to do a little climbing and lazing around in the beautiful weather.
We met up with Jason’s old college roomie, his soon-to-be veterinarian girlfriend, and a sweet girl who happened to be hiking around the park already.
Sad to say, Wyldman had never gotten to witness his dad bouldering…or been in a “cave,”...or gotten to run through hiking trails.
He loved it. And when I say “loved” it, I mean “LUUUH-HHHHUUU-HHHUVED” it.
He especially like the “caves.”
And relaxing under the big blue “kye.”
Not one complaint about the belly scrapes or tree limb scratches.
I think he (and his SPF 70) were right at home.
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Seriously. Seriously? Could this get any stinkin’ cuter/funnier/sweeter?
This is my precious nephew Jude…remember???, and his mama—-who also happens to be my sister.
Oh, and for the record, I took pity on my poor redhead and let him dress as something a little more tough than Waldo for one night of trick or treating.
But, now as I stop and take a good, long gander at the photo, I’m beginning to wonder if tough is the right word…
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This year has been more fun because Wyldman sort of (kind of) understands a little more about costumes and the whole “trick or treeeeeeeeat” goings on. But even at that, I couldn’t for the life of me come up with a unique costume idea.
About the time my creative tank was nearing empty, a friend suggested to me the most excellent idea. So this year, we would go as…
“Wyldo”...get it?
After searching high and low for the classic red and white striped Waldo shirt, I decided I would just trash it up a knotch and go the red duct tape route. The hat was made from two old t-shirts and a felt pom pom. Throw in some nerd glasses and presto!
It actually turned out much better than I thought it would. However, he’s gotten a little more picky about sporting headwear these days. The stars must’ve been aligned, because I was lucky enough to get a few quick shots of him with both hat AND glasses.
I admit, he doesn’t look TOTALLY pleased, but isn’t that what Halloween is about? Forcing your kids into a ridiculous outfit just for a fleeting chuckle or smile? I think so.
I’m not going to go so far as to say he was the hit of the party, but he held his own. Okay, so maybe they were completely freaked out. Or confused. Or both.
Either way, he was feeling the love.
So much so, he confidently hopped right on this tractor to show off his driving skills to all those princesses and fairies.
Poor guy. Didn’t even see it coming! This could’ve been the end of him. I didn’t think his pride could be smashed any lower when…
he looked up at me with those sweet innocent, dark blue defeated eyes and said, “Mama?”
Son, I’m so sorry.
Next year, I promise you’ll be Rambo or Batman or something very, very tough.
With a sword…
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The other night my sister and I were feeling a little bit festive, so we decided that we should gather our families and a couple of friends for some good ol’ fashion pumpkin carving. Okay, so truthfully, our plans may have had more to do with my nephew, Nate (or “Nates” as Wylder calls him) nagging the crud out of my sweet sister all week to start cutting on the blasted pumpkins, than pure festiveness. Either way, you can’t gather around a table with loved ones over stew, cornbread, and caramel apples and not feel a little warm, fuzzy nostalgia.
Nate ended up choosing the classic jack-o-lantern design for his first pumpkin, which I’m pretty sure brought tears of joy to his mama.
His second one, on the other hand, was dreamed up and commissioned by Nate himself. No questions were asked. Sometimes you just gotta go with it.
I, on the other hand, thought I would do my boy proud and carve one of his most favorite characters. You guessed it, Elmo.
Let me get this straight. I’m no amateur to the art of pumpkin carving. I’ve won some contests in my past college days. Does Halloween Carv-O-Rama of 2001 and 2002 mean anything to any of you out there? Because to me it was a back-to-back victory in which my masterpieces would put any gourd to shame. No researching, no patterns, no cheats, no fancy tools. Straight champion. Fair and square.
Times are a changin’, I guess, because this year I printed off a photo of our furry red friend from the internet and kept referring back and forth to our Sesame Street coloring book. It seems as if my perfectionism is dwindling these days, because when I wiped the sweat off of my brow with my slimy Edward Scissor Hands and took a look at the finished product, I laughed out loud…along with everyone else in the room.
There were a FEW encouraging words flying around, but nothing that I could actually, truly believe. They went something like this,
“Well, no one else is going to have a jack-o-lantern like this one!!”
“Very creative, I think.”
“Maybe once you light it….”
And then there was my husband. He’s honest. He’s legit. He’s sometimes a hair brutal.
“How many slices did you make on that thing?”
“What about that? Was that on purpose?”
“I hate to say it, but that looks nothing like Elmo.”
Living with this guy. Makes me such a strong woman. He also makes me want to use my Edward Scissors Hands and play a game of Mercy with him.
I’ll admit, I was a little sad. But, on a good note, there was no contest, no prize, my name would not be in the local paper either way. I was dealing with it.
Then, something magical happened. Something I’ll never be able to explain.
As soon as lit that pesky gourd with three tea lights, my sweet redheaded two-year-old ran into the kitchen, catches a glimpse of my creation, and joyfully squealed three hear-warming words,
“ELMO KUNKIN, MAMA!”
I don’t know how it happened. That stinkin’ thing looked just like Elmo to me, too!
Sometimes you can’t asked questions. You gotta just go with it.
Folks, I believe we witnessed a Halloween miracle.
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Busted.
I’m gonna go on a limb here and say that it’s pretty doubtful that any of you will take me up on a homemade Mexican dinner at my place any time soon. Am I right?
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This boy. This dinosaur pajama’d boy. This dinosaur pajama clad, crazy-haired boy LUUUU-HHHHUUUUUU-HUUUUVS his cereal.
Every morning I hear, “Mama, mama…lillilluhlll!” as his little white, fluffy fingers direct me to the kitchen.
He doesn’t care what kind it is. He’s not picky about his cereal. He’ll eat anything from Marshmallow Mateys to Shredded Wheat.
I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t know what hit him if he actually got REAL Lucky Charms. I’ll save that for a special day. Christmas…or maybe his birthday.
The problem, however, is this. Every morning, once he starts getting near the end of the bowl, he starts getting a little crazy.
First the silly faces.
The hands go in.
The next thing I know, I’m wiping up milk spots every half inch in a fifteen foot radius of my dinosaur pajama clad, crazy-haired son.
And the only explanation I get is, “Naughny. Didooo (Wylder) naughny!”
I think I’m gonna wait till he gets in school and let the teachers deal with this one. Brilliant!
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His name is Keller. He just might be one of the cutest boys I’ve ever seen. And, apparently, fashion isn’t his only forte. Looks as if he’s got a pretty cool tongue-curling trick as well! His mama won the last giveaway and Keller got to add a SB Hand-dyed Vneck Tee and Cotton Belt to his wardrobe!
Thanks, Keller. You’re a sweetie!
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