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I mentioned on my various social media accounts yesterday that JJ, our 4-year-old, wished Brian a very happy “Fodder’s Day.”

Happy "Fodder's Day"

It’s almost like he knew about this blog and that Brian provides me with an infinite amount of fodder for it.

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A Weird Way to Wake Up

Let’s step back to nearly a MONTH ago when the four of us went to my in-laws’ farmhouse in Indiana. When my fashionable, Chinese friend and her husband spent their honeymoon with us. Before I had THREE children in my house asking 3 million questions an hour and eating 3 million pounds of peanut butter. I would like to finally tell you the rest of that story before I forget all of it and that space in my brain is replaced with VeggieTales lyrics.

“If it doesn’t have a tail, it’s not a monkey.
Even if it has a monkey-kind-of shape.
If it doesn’t have a tail, it’s not a monkey. If it doesn’t have a tail, it’s not a monkey. It’s an ape!”

Too late.

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This weekend we hosted another round of family here at the Morgan Hostel. I downgraded us from a hotel or motel to a hostel since our visitors have to share a bathroom with two toddlers. And one of them (WHO IS FINALLY POTTY TRAINED, PRAISE THE LORD) doesn’t have very good aim. Also, our guests are forced to eat my questionable cooking . . . which just adds to whole “I may die if I stay here much longer” feeling.

[I think she says stuff like this to frighten away future visitors.]

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In Case You Don't Hear from Me for a While

In an effort to evade the freezing rain in Atlanta, my parents came to town on Monday evening—two days before the day we all planned for them to arrive. Two days before the day the house would have been clean. Two days before the day the furniture would have been dusted. Two days before the day I would have had meals planned, prepared and frozen.

I know. Even I didn’t believe that last one.  

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photobomb

I got a two-sentence e-mail from my father-in-law last Tuesday that cut right to my heart. Now, a two-sentence e-mail from me would mean that 1) I am sad/disappointed/angry about something or 2) I am sending the message while simultaneously wiping urine off our bathroom wall and my face (true story). However, a two-sentence e-mail from my father-in-law means something else entirely. It means that he is reaching out without wanting to seem intrusive. It means that he took time out of his work-filled schedule to let me know that he’s thinking about me. It means that I had better get back to blogging.

So, when I read, “How are you? Haven’t talked to you lately,” I knew exactly what he was trying to say.

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Well, friends, I’m back and bedder than ever.

[Typos already. Well, that's what happens when you take two weeks off without writing.]

No, that’s not a typo. It’s an explanation of where I’ve been these past two weeks. Allow me to elaborate…

Brian gave me a Fitbit for Christmas. It’s basically a device I wear on my wrist that tracks my movements (sleep and overall activity level).

Fitbit

First of all, men, I need to inform you that this is an incredibly risky gift for a man to give a woman for Christmas. Particularly if she has struggled with depression.

“Merry Christmas, honey! Here’s a nifty gift that will track how many hours you spend in bed and how stagnant you are even during your few waking moments.”

I just had a flashback to the Christmas where my dad gave my mom running shoes and fluorescent jogging suits. I’ll never forget the look on her face. It’s the look that says, “I know just the perfect place to put this bleepity-bleep-bleep shoe!”

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Thanksgiveaway 2013

Update:  November 20, 2013

Thank you to everyone who participated! The winners of the gorgeous cookbooks are…

1)  gina:  “A FULL dish!!! But seriously, I could eat sweet potato casserole until I’m doubled over with a stomach ache–and still manage to eat one more bite! The toasted marshmallows seal the deal for me!”

2)  Laura:  “My mom’s green beans is a dish that I loved and I didn’t find anything similar at other thanksgivings. Steam them, then combine in sauté pan with crumbled bacon, bit of brown sugar, worcheshire sauce and thinly sliced green onions. I also enjoyed her jello mold…orange jello with peach slices in it on top of a cool whip fluff of some sort. She made it every year just for me.”

Congratulations! Please send an email to katy@katyinacorner.com to claim your prize.

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It’s that time again, y’all:  time for the 2nd Annual Katy in a Corner Thanksgiveaway! This tradition has lasted almost as long as my most impressive workout streak—so…twice in a row.

Okay, it’s lasted TWICE as long as my most impressive workout streak.

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12 Things I've Learned about Professional Blogging

I don’t know if I ever told y’all this, but Katy in a Corner is actually my third blogging venture.

[Wow. So, third time's a…Dirty Dancing parody? That is just sad.]

My first blog (or what I called an online journal at the time) went live in 2003 and was entitled, “Postcards from Leeds.” It chronicled my year abroad as an ambassadorial scholar for the Rotary Foundation. I was a serious professional back when I was 22.

I've Got French Cuffs

You know what this photo says? “Look out, world. I’ve got French cuffs, and I know how to use them.”

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The Call Every Father Dreads

We spent last weekend in the North Georgia Mountains with my dad’s side of the family at our annual reunion entitled “The Hinesley Invitational Tournament.”

What? Doesn’t your family have an official name and embroidered polo shirts for all your reunions?

Huh.

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