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.]
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.
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).
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!”
As I mentioned to you on Monday’s post, we already partook in one Thanksgiving feast while my parents were here last week. It wasn’t as over-the-top as we’re accustomed to (we had only 6 or 7 side dishes this time), but it was absolutely delicious. Thanks to Brian’s turkey and my mom’s…well, everything else, it was a huge success. A great time was had by all!
Well, almost all.
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 email@example.com to claim your prize.
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.
Last Tuesday morning, Brian came into our bedroom and sat by my side. I was in a deep sleep after a restless night, and he gently shook my arm to wake me. My eyes struggled to focus and find his gaze, but once they did, I knew. I just wasn’t sure who.
“Katy, your parents have been trying to call you. PawPaw passed away this morning.”
I immediately closed my eyes again and visualized his face.
I pictured him smiling. He was always smiling.
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.
You know what this photo says? “Look out, world. I’ve got French cuffs, and I know how to use them.”
Let’s talk about baby weight for a minute, shall we? I’m not talking about the kind we all carry around for varying lengths of time after childbirth. No, I’m talking about the kind of baby weight that pediatricians like to refer to in percentiles. That stuff that helps us determine where our kids rank in comparison to the height and weight of their peers.
I took JJ and Averi for their annual checkups last Friday. And I have to say first of all that they should hand out gold medals at the exit for those of us who are stupid enough to schedule back-to-back appointments for two toddlers during nap time. This medal of pure gold could have an inscription that reads, “Silence is golden. Bring your kids AFTER nap time, you nitwit.”
Or something like that.