Ipods and Equestrians

My husband and his ipod...

It is a serious relationship.

A couple years ago, he bought his first ipod, as a gift to himself. With the money he had saved up from taking back the Christmas gifts everyone got him...

Well, I thought it was great!

Until...

I couldn't peel his sweaty fingers off the touch screen for (his) fear that he would miss something important out in the blogosphere.

Fortunately Unfortunately, my oldest child was bombing away on angry birds one Sunday afternoon when we heard an unsettling noise.

Then, a tiny voice said, "uh oh."

No more angry birds... no more ipod. The face was shattered. Unusable.

We didn't really have the income to buy another one, so my man bought a six pack and nursed his wounds.

Eventually, he healed.

Well, sucker that I am, I got to feelin sorry for him. So this past Christmas I surprised him with a brand-spankin new ipod touch. Who's a good wife?

For a while, we had a rule that the pups couldn't touch it...at all!

But you know how that goes.

So of course, my girl installed all her "games" onto the new Hi-pod...as she calls it.

And we recognize our softness, and hang our heads.

But here's the funny part: As I'm checkin facebook just now, I hear the whinny of a horse.

Immediately, my husband says (way too enthusiastically),

"Oooooh! My horse has an update!"

...

Um, whose horse?

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Date weekend!

This weekend, my (sweet, wonderful, too-good-to-be-true) mother-in-law came to babysit the kids while my husband and I took an overnight DATE!

You jealous?

It was fantastic. It was fun. It was romantic.

We never get away, but in getting away, I realized how absolutely important it is to GET AWAY.

I love my chirrun, oh yes I do! But I'm so happy to have had the chance to take a weekend and fall in love with my husband. He is amazing. God blessed me with a wonderful man, with whom I fight, and laugh, and cry, and rarely, but sometimes...play and rest.

It was a weekend for both.

Want the picture complete run-down?

First, I ate the best hamburger of my life at Five Guys. No jokes, it was legit.

I thought you might be skeptical, so I took a picture of the bag just to prove it.

Then, we checked into our room at the Old Capital Inn. We stayed in the Mississippi Delta Room. Appropriate?

This is me, having my complimentary glass of wine at the Inn, enjoying the rooftop garden.

Brandon, always living on the edge.

Then, we ate at Babalu. Guacamole=win! (chicken tacos= also win)

Brandon seems to be enjoying himself, right? :)

If the above photo left any room for doubt, this one doesn't.

It is so rare to be able to sit under the stars (or smog of Jackson), wine in hand, with no children! So what did we do but sit around under the stars and...talk about our children.

It was a lovely night...that turned into a lovely morning.

And what is maybe the only thing that could

make me happier (first thing in the morning) than a fancy-shmancy breakfast- complete with cinnamon roll??

A fancy-shmancy cinnamon roll...and coffee.

But the real icing on the metaphorical cinnamon roll, was neither the cinnamon roll...nor the coffee.

But the owner of those sweet baby blues, staring up at me over His morning coffee, looking at me like I'm the prettiest thing he's ever seen, causing my heart to flutter.

In the word's of the famous poets, Salt 'n' Pepa,

"what a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man."

What a mighty good man.

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True Love

This past weekend, my husband and I went to the movies.

We never go out, so for us this was a major treat!

So we went to the movies, and we saw a chick-flick. Guess who got to pick the movie??

I won't say which movie, because that is not the point of this post, but I will say,

It was terrible.

It did well at the box office.

It was the most shallow, uncomplicated, unrealistic romance movie I have ever seen. The plot was boring and the character development was...well, there really wasn't any. They ( the people who wrote/produced the movie) are relying on the hope that most of the girls who bought tickets would be thoughless, love-hungry and very imaginative.

Which, proudly, I can say I'm only 1 out of those 3.

I sort of felt manipulated when I left. Like, I knew what they wanted me to do was go home and be dissatisfied that my man is not "that" man.

But really, which man is?

Tell you what real romance is...

Real romance, is my husband coming home at 5:00 (After I have had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad, sick day) today with a bouquet of cold medicine, OJ, fresh oranges and a grapefruit, chocolate, and a baked chicken for supper.

That, my friends, is romantic.

Could you write a whole movie around it?

Maybe not.

But it sure made my poor, tired heart skip a beat.

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Brando 1, Callie 0

Okay, so I've been trying out some new recipes lately. All successful.

Kinda.

Okay, most of them successful.

I mean, I guess this one could be considered a success since I thought it was GREAT, but it's non-success lies in the disapproval it received from Brandon.

As a general rule, my husband eats the R O Y G (B I V) (These three count if you apply the rule to cotton candy, ice cream, or cotton candy ice cream.) colors, of the food color spectrum, of course with the added brown, white, and occasional black.

Well tonight we had manicotti, which consists of spinach, chicken, ricotta, mozzarella, and tomato sauce.

It's heavenly goodness in a noodly shell.

But Mr. Picky, to my surprise, scarfed down his shell and left the room. I thought, a little smug, oh, maybe he's getting more!

But he happily reentered with a bowl of cereal.

I thought, Oh hell no Hmmm...let me inquire as to why he is eating cereal.

I tried to force my best "innocently offended" face and said, "So...you didn't like it?"

I might of thrown a little chin quiver in there just for good measure.

He replied with all the superior grace of a gentleman , "Nah baby. I just like two month old stale cheerios."

Smirk...

Silence...

Wince.
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