Y'all.
I did my first official work-out with a trainer today. Which means that I'm not really typing this post. I'm using my Jedi mind powers to manipulate the keyboard because my arms are in full-on rebellion right now.
My trainer is awesome and he decided (as made obvious by the title) that I needed a little work on my arms/upper body area. And well...I knew I was out of shape but OH MY WORD THE BURNING!!!
When it was all over, I was a sweating, quivering mass of Jell-O. I didn't cry and I didn't toss my cookies...but I may have said the Lord's name out loud once or twice.
In reverent prayer, of course. As in, "Oh Jesus. JE-sus. JAY-SUS!!! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY TAKE MY ARMS! TAKE 'EM LORD! They've been good to me! They don't deserve all this abuse! Do whatever is in Thy Holy Will to do with them just MAKE IT STOP!"
(Ok so maybe that was a little bit extreme and I didn't quite go there...but I wanted to.)
However sore my body may be...the thing is, I did it. And everytime my body said "Girl...you gon' hafta put a stop to this! We cain't do this!" I just remembered all the OTHER times my body said I couldn't...but I did.
Due an issue with my knee, I've decided to walk the 5k instead of run and lower the impact so as not to do major damage. So instead of walk/shuffle/walk I'm just walking.
But I'm walking longer and faster to compensate. I'm up to 30 minutes at a 3.7 mph clip. After that I've been hopping on to the elliptical for a 20 minute fat-burner session. Hopefully next week I'll be able to up my walking speed to almost 4 mph and do more time on the elliptical.
Plus the personal trainer work-outs.
It sounds like a lot, and it is...but I'm so determined to see this through. I've been off the sodas for about 6 weeks now, and I've been working out for three weeks. I lost another pound this week but more than that...I'm defeating the voices in my head that keep saying I can't.
Because y'all...Yes. I. Can. And the more I do it, the more my confidence grows. Each workout does more to chip away at the feelings of shame and defeat for having let myself get to this point.
I'm doing it.
I'll bet you can do it too.
Rotating on Mimi's playlist this week:
Revolution on the Dance Floor - I don't know who recorded this. My kids downloaded it.
California Gurls - Katy Perry
Bring It On - Lenny Kravitz
American Idiot- Green Day
So What - P!nk
Live and Let Die - GnR
Back in Black - AC/DC
Mama's Broken Heart - Miranda Lambert
What Was I Thinkin' - Dierks Bentley
Last Dance With Mary Jane - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Thursday, May 16, 2013
I Don't Have A Title For This Post
I know. Butterbean and I are all about keepin' it classy on the blog.
That and I just didn't have any titles that were doin' it for me, ya know?
So...remember the other day when I was all "Oh I don't know how much I weigh, I'm not worried about the number on the scale" and all that?
You don't? What...you don't think my issues with my weight is riveting blog material?
Whatevs. Just pretend you're interested.
Anyhoo last Thursday I ventured out to the Walmarts and bought myself a scale . And it only took an hour of some serious prayer and fasting before I figured out how to turn the thing on. I am all sorts of what the young folks call...tech savvy.
I hopped on the scale and the number was (embarrassingly enough) 2...1...4. YIKES! At 5'4" I should only weigh somewhere in the 125-135 range. That's roughly 90 pounds of extra baggage.
ERMAHGERRD I've been carrying around the equivalent of an 8th grade physics nerd for the past 20 years! Complete with pocket protector and horn-rimmed glasses!
(No offense to all you physics nerds out there. You guys are neat-o! And smarter than me!)
So yeah...that day was kind of a bummer...but I didn't let it get me down too much. I kept to the plan...I hopped back on the treadmill Monday and stepped up my game. 2 minutes of brisk walking and 90 seconds of jogging. To say that my body went into shock over Truffle Shuffling for 90 seconds straight would be like saying the Pope is Catholic. It's sort of an understatement.
First my calves started in with "Ummm hey lady...things are starting to heat up down here. How's about dialing it down just a hair?"
When that didn't work my knees started in with, "Hey...we're getting seriously ANNOYED with you and your exercising shenanigans."
My lungs couldn't talk to me because they were busy huffing and puffing, but I could sense they were somewhat put out.
But I didn't listen to them. Oh no. I just kept imagining I was that firework that Katy whatshername keeps singing about. I couldn't really help that. She was singing in my ear so...what was I to do?
Then I thought about what it would be like to just be able to listen to some music and bust a few moves without seriously endangering myself or others around me. I imagined myself in a sparkly outfit dancing and glittering across the stage and my spare tire spoke up and was all, "Easy there Beyonce ...two things are wrong with that scenario. 1) You have no rhythm and 2) You have no rhythm."
But I just rolled my eyes and kept on shuffling. And then...I weighed myself again on Tuesday.
The number on the scale said 2...0...9! 5 pounds in 4 days.
Y'all...when I saw that I broke into some dancing that would have made Beyoncé cry. Or cringe. I don't know which because 5 POUNDS! MIMI LOST 5 POUNDS!
Yeah. It was what you might call...A Moment. The first of many I'm sure.
That 8th grade Physics nerd is goin' down!
That and I just didn't have any titles that were doin' it for me, ya know?
So...remember the other day when I was all "Oh I don't know how much I weigh, I'm not worried about the number on the scale" and all that?
You don't? What...you don't think my issues with my weight is riveting blog material?
Whatevs. Just pretend you're interested.
Anyhoo last Thursday I ventured out to the Walmarts and bought myself a scale . And it only took an hour of some serious prayer and fasting before I figured out how to turn the thing on. I am all sorts of what the young folks call...tech savvy.
I hopped on the scale and the number was (embarrassingly enough) 2...1...4. YIKES! At 5'4" I should only weigh somewhere in the 125-135 range. That's roughly 90 pounds of extra baggage.
ERMAHGERRD I've been carrying around the equivalent of an 8th grade physics nerd for the past 20 years! Complete with pocket protector and horn-rimmed glasses!
(No offense to all you physics nerds out there. You guys are neat-o! And smarter than me!)
So yeah...that day was kind of a bummer...but I didn't let it get me down too much. I kept to the plan...I hopped back on the treadmill Monday and stepped up my game. 2 minutes of brisk walking and 90 seconds of jogging. To say that my body went into shock over Truffle Shuffling for 90 seconds straight would be like saying the Pope is Catholic. It's sort of an understatement.
First my calves started in with "Ummm hey lady...things are starting to heat up down here. How's about dialing it down just a hair?"
When that didn't work my knees started in with, "Hey...we're getting seriously ANNOYED with you and your exercising shenanigans."
My lungs couldn't talk to me because they were busy huffing and puffing, but I could sense they were somewhat put out.
But I didn't listen to them. Oh no. I just kept imagining I was that firework that Katy whatshername keeps singing about. I couldn't really help that. She was singing in my ear so...what was I to do?
Then I thought about what it would be like to just be able to listen to some music and bust a few moves without seriously endangering myself or others around me. I imagined myself in a sparkly outfit dancing and glittering across the stage and my spare tire spoke up and was all, "Easy there Beyonce ...two things are wrong with that scenario. 1) You have no rhythm and 2) You have no rhythm."
But I just rolled my eyes and kept on shuffling. And then...I weighed myself again on Tuesday.
The number on the scale said 2...0...9! 5 pounds in 4 days.
Y'all...when I saw that I broke into some dancing that would have made Beyoncé cry. Or cringe. I don't know which because 5 POUNDS! MIMI LOST 5 POUNDS!
Yeah. It was what you might call...A Moment. The first of many I'm sure.
That 8th grade Physics nerd is goin' down!
Monday, May 13, 2013
Jesus Jukin' The Gym
You all may remember that last week I began an exercise routine known as the Couch-5K.
Or as I like to call it, Death On A Treadmill.
The first time wasn't bad. I actually left the gym feeling like a boss, because I'd managed to do the thing and you know...not die.
On Tuesday and Wednesday last week I didn't do the workout, I just walked. Then Thursday rolled around and I went back to the gym. I popped my earbuds in and stepped on to the treadmill to do my version of the Truffle Shuffle, and my body was all, "Whoa. Wait...what? Didn't you do this Monday? Why do we need to do this again? Don't tell me you're gonna make me do this for reals!"
I was all, "Shut up. Just stop talking to me. I'm listening to Kelly Clarkson, and she says that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
To which my body replied, "Keep shuffling lady and I can make that happen."
But I prevailed. I showed my body that I was the boss of it and not the other way around. And then something strange happened...I began noticing a phenomenon that normally doesn't happen to me unless I'm in church and the preaching is particularly fiery and brimstoney-ish.
I was sweating.
It was oh so lovely to behold. In a smelly sort of way.
Friday I went back for more. My body began the usual arguments which then turned to pleading, and finally...to bargaining. But I wasn't having it. No ma'am.
I'll admit that it was a little difficult for me to get over how I must appear to everyone else who was working out. But I looked over to the right of me to the skinny Minnie who was climbing the stairs endlessly...only she was sidestepping her way up the stairs. She looked just as sweaty and ridiculous as I did. She caught my eye and by unspoken agreement, we looked tactfully away from each other and didn't fall off our machines laughing at our silly selves.
I took comfort in the fact that she probably felt more uncomfortable than I did.
Plus, I had unwittingly and single-handedly Jesus Juked the entire joint.
(Pretend that was a really smooth segue into what I'm about to tell you)
Years ago I participated in the March for Jesus. For those of you who may not remember, some people got together and thought Jesus wasn't being worshipped enough in public, so they came up with the March for Jesus. And they sold t-shirts. A friend of mine gave me one and I love it because it's soft and gi-normous. I had grabbed it for my work-out Friday morning and didn't really realize what I was doing until after.
It has a picture of Jesus and the Crown of Thorns on the front. On the back it says, "He walked for me, so I'll walk for Him."
Thereby informing everyone around me that this is not just a work-out for pleasure...oh no my young muscle-bound friends. I was there on a mission from God. (Name that movie!)
Now, if only Jesus and the Father did the Truffle Shuffle. It would make my suffering on this earth so very worthwhile. (Stop looking at me like that Holy Rollers! I'M JUST KIDDING!)
Or as I like to call it, Death On A Treadmill.
The first time wasn't bad. I actually left the gym feeling like a boss, because I'd managed to do the thing and you know...not die.
On Tuesday and Wednesday last week I didn't do the workout, I just walked. Then Thursday rolled around and I went back to the gym. I popped my earbuds in and stepped on to the treadmill to do my version of the Truffle Shuffle, and my body was all, "Whoa. Wait...what? Didn't you do this Monday? Why do we need to do this again? Don't tell me you're gonna make me do this for reals!"
I was all, "Shut up. Just stop talking to me. I'm listening to Kelly Clarkson, and she says that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
To which my body replied, "Keep shuffling lady and I can make that happen."
But I prevailed. I showed my body that I was the boss of it and not the other way around. And then something strange happened...I began noticing a phenomenon that normally doesn't happen to me unless I'm in church and the preaching is particularly fiery and brimstoney-ish.
I was sweating.
It was oh so lovely to behold. In a smelly sort of way.
Friday I went back for more. My body began the usual arguments which then turned to pleading, and finally...to bargaining. But I wasn't having it. No ma'am.
I'll admit that it was a little difficult for me to get over how I must appear to everyone else who was working out. But I looked over to the right of me to the skinny Minnie who was climbing the stairs endlessly...only she was sidestepping her way up the stairs. She looked just as sweaty and ridiculous as I did. She caught my eye and by unspoken agreement, we looked tactfully away from each other and didn't fall off our machines laughing at our silly selves.
I took comfort in the fact that she probably felt more uncomfortable than I did.
Plus, I had unwittingly and single-handedly Jesus Juked the entire joint.
(Pretend that was a really smooth segue into what I'm about to tell you)
Years ago I participated in the March for Jesus. For those of you who may not remember, some people got together and thought Jesus wasn't being worshipped enough in public, so they came up with the March for Jesus. And they sold t-shirts. A friend of mine gave me one and I love it because it's soft and gi-normous. I had grabbed it for my work-out Friday morning and didn't really realize what I was doing until after.
It has a picture of Jesus and the Crown of Thorns on the front. On the back it says, "He walked for me, so I'll walk for Him."
Thereby informing everyone around me that this is not just a work-out for pleasure...oh no my young muscle-bound friends. I was there on a mission from God. (Name that movie!)
Now, if only Jesus and the Father did the Truffle Shuffle. It would make my suffering on this earth so very worthwhile. (Stop looking at me like that Holy Rollers! I'M JUST KIDDING!)
Monday, May 6, 2013
Time For A Change
I love the color green y'all. It's one of my favorites...but honestly, with this new season of life that I'm in...I was getting a little tired of it.
So...TA-DA!!! How do you like it? I think it's pretty cool. The posts are a little easier to read...the blue fuzzy background reminds me of summertime and well...I like it. So you have to like it too. Because hey...my blog...my rules.
You might also want to take note of the added page at the top...Mimi's Movin' and Groovin.'
Cause y'all...I have passed the stage of being pleasingly plump. You can read all about the whys and wherefores and what's up with that's on the page, but basically, I'm tired of being old, worn-out, and fat.
I can't do anything about the first thing, but I can certainly work on the other two. All those old fears of "but I'll look ridiculous working out with all those skinny people" are being shot down with dosages of truth. Because the truth is...I can't look much more ridiculous than I do now. And it's only going to get worse with time, neglect, and gravity.
Besides...everybody's got their battles. That cute little 20-year old stick that's sweating out her soul on that stair master like she's Tallahassee searching for his all-elusive Twinkie? Honey, she could be fighting financial troubles, depression, family stuff, hassles at work, or...maybe she's like me and dealing with a body image/health issue. Or maybe it's just zombies. WHO KNOWS?
We all have our issues y'all...some are just better disguised than others. So why should I be concerned with how I look in front of someone who has her own personal brand of crazy to deal with?
Yep. That's what I thought.
So...a new look, a new journey, and...da da da da...a new grand-baby.
Thaaaaaat's right y'all...I'm 'boutta be a Mimi again! Come September, Butterbean's gonna have a baby brother...so I've got to think up a moniker for him. Maybe Butternut? Butterscotch? Butterfinger? I dunno. Some things just can't be forced. Some things require contemplation and the alignment of certain heavenly bodies...and a really good bottle of wine.
OH I KID.
I can't afford wine.
Well..y'all that about wraps it up for me today. Keep the 'Bean in your prayers...because one of her issues is being the ONE AND ONLY. We'll see how that works out for her this fall.
Should be more fun than fighting a herd of bloodthirsty zombies.
So...TA-DA!!! How do you like it? I think it's pretty cool. The posts are a little easier to read...the blue fuzzy background reminds me of summertime and well...I like it. So you have to like it too. Because hey...my blog...my rules.
You might also want to take note of the added page at the top...Mimi's Movin' and Groovin.'
Cause y'all...I have passed the stage of being pleasingly plump. You can read all about the whys and wherefores and what's up with that's on the page, but basically, I'm tired of being old, worn-out, and fat.
I can't do anything about the first thing, but I can certainly work on the other two. All those old fears of "but I'll look ridiculous working out with all those skinny people" are being shot down with dosages of truth. Because the truth is...I can't look much more ridiculous than I do now. And it's only going to get worse with time, neglect, and gravity.
Besides...everybody's got their battles. That cute little 20-year old stick that's sweating out her soul on that stair master like she's Tallahassee searching for his all-elusive Twinkie? Honey, she could be fighting financial troubles, depression, family stuff, hassles at work, or...maybe she's like me and dealing with a body image/health issue. Or maybe it's just zombies. WHO KNOWS?
We all have our issues y'all...some are just better disguised than others. So why should I be concerned with how I look in front of someone who has her own personal brand of crazy to deal with?
Yep. That's what I thought.
So...a new look, a new journey, and...da da da da...a new grand-baby.
Thaaaaaat's right y'all...I'm 'boutta be a Mimi again! Come September, Butterbean's gonna have a baby brother...so I've got to think up a moniker for him. Maybe Butternut? Butterscotch? Butterfinger? I dunno. Some things just can't be forced. Some things require contemplation and the alignment of certain heavenly bodies...and a really good bottle of wine.
OH I KID.
I can't afford wine.
Well..y'all that about wraps it up for me today. Keep the 'Bean in your prayers...because one of her issues is being the ONE AND ONLY. We'll see how that works out for her this fall.
Should be more fun than fighting a herd of bloodthirsty zombies.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Ohio...Where Church Gets Done Right
Y'all. I had the opportunity to go up to Ohio this past weekend and visit my cousin and her precious family.
The drive is easy...straight up I-75...for several hours. Then 3 rights and I'm there.
I was so looking forward to the weekend...I was going up to do some training and meet some fabulous people (Sara, Katie, Brandy...I'm looking at you here) and just do some all around gabbing and gossiping (Oh, I'm sorry Jessica...I meant to say "praying") and catching up in general.
My cousin is a hoot and even though she's lived in Ohio fora hundred years a while, she still has the most southern accent of anybody I know.
And that's saying something.
Anyhoo...as I was saying...the drive up to Ohio is pretty much a straight shot. Nothing much to see except gorgeous views from the top of Jellico Mountain, beautiful horse ranches in Kentucky, and breath-taking sprawling farmland in Ohio.
Oh...and then there was this:
Photo from The Ohio State University.
Okay, okay...there weren't really Ohio State fans standing there doing the O-H-I-O. But there was (I'll get to the "was" in a minute) what the locals lovingly referred to as "Touchdown Jesus."
Yep. That is one giant statue of...well...You Know Who.
(Unfortunately, as I was driving by...I couldn't just whip out my camera and take a picture for you since doing that at speeds of 70-ish miles an hour is not advisable by the Department of Transportation. Mimi did not want to end up in Jesus' arms right at that moment so she sagely followed that piece of advice.)
Now y'all...that is what I call doing church RIGHT. Wanna "cast your net" and "be a fisher of men?" Erect a giant Jesus statue in your front yard in full view of the highway. Why my goodness...the "fish" will be jumping into the net what with all the accidents caused by the copious amounts of rubbernecking! All you have to do is have a faithful group on standby to thump 'em on the head with the Word as they're being wheeled into the ambulance. This is nothing less than an act of sheer evangelical genius in my opinion.
But seriously y'all...here's what's kept me awake nights since I've seen this: why didn't they have Him doing the Heisman stance? It would be like He was saying to all the traveling sinners, "Stop! In the Name of Love! Beeefore yew braaaake my heart!" (Because that is totally how Jesus would sing that song.)
Anyways...turns out that maybe Jesus (As in..The One and Only) didn't like the "Touchdown" version since (true story, you can Google it) "Touchdown Jesus" got hit by lightning in a bad thunderstorm and burned right on down to the ground.
But make no mistake my friends...this sad development did not deter our Ohio-an brethren and sistren. Nosirree.
Lo, they picked themselves up off the ground, dusted themselves off andresurrected re-erected a new statue.
Photo by Sarahlobster (I did not make that name up) via Tumblr.
There ya go. The newly improved...more loving and huggable Jesus. Beat THAT southern bible belt-ers!
(Now...I know there are some of you reading this going..."but...but...how can you make fun of Jesus?" Honey-buns...I'm not making fun of Jesus. I love Him. But I am poking fun at the group of Master Gold Level Believers at the church where Huggable Jesus is located. However, I want you to know that though my tongue is planted firmly in my cheek, it is in sisterly love y'all. Sisterly love.)
The drive is easy...straight up I-75...for several hours. Then 3 rights and I'm there.
I was so looking forward to the weekend...I was going up to do some training and meet some fabulous people (Sara, Katie, Brandy...I'm looking at you here) and just do some all around gabbing and gossiping (Oh, I'm sorry Jessica...I meant to say "praying") and catching up in general.
My cousin is a hoot and even though she's lived in Ohio for
And that's saying something.
Anyhoo...as I was saying...the drive up to Ohio is pretty much a straight shot. Nothing much to see except gorgeous views from the top of Jellico Mountain, beautiful horse ranches in Kentucky, and breath-taking sprawling farmland in Ohio.
Oh...and then there was this:
Okay, okay...there weren't really Ohio State fans standing there doing the O-H-I-O. But there was (I'll get to the "was" in a minute) what the locals lovingly referred to as "Touchdown Jesus."
Yep. That is one giant statue of...well...You Know Who.
(Unfortunately, as I was driving by...I couldn't just whip out my camera and take a picture for you since doing that at speeds of 70-ish miles an hour is not advisable by the Department of Transportation. Mimi did not want to end up in Jesus' arms right at that moment so she sagely followed that piece of advice.)
Now y'all...that is what I call doing church RIGHT. Wanna "cast your net" and "be a fisher of men?" Erect a giant Jesus statue in your front yard in full view of the highway. Why my goodness...the "fish" will be jumping into the net what with all the accidents caused by the copious amounts of rubbernecking! All you have to do is have a faithful group on standby to thump 'em on the head with the Word as they're being wheeled into the ambulance. This is nothing less than an act of sheer evangelical genius in my opinion.
But seriously y'all...here's what's kept me awake nights since I've seen this: why didn't they have Him doing the Heisman stance? It would be like He was saying to all the traveling sinners, "Stop! In the Name of Love! Beeefore yew braaaake my heart!" (Because that is totally how Jesus would sing that song.)
Anyways...turns out that maybe Jesus (As in..The One and Only) didn't like the "Touchdown" version since (true story, you can Google it) "Touchdown Jesus" got hit by lightning in a bad thunderstorm and burned right on down to the ground.
But make no mistake my friends...this sad development did not deter our Ohio-an brethren and sistren. Nosirree.
Lo, they picked themselves up off the ground, dusted themselves off and
There ya go. The newly improved...more loving and huggable Jesus. Beat THAT southern bible belt-ers!
(Now...I know there are some of you reading this going..."but...but...how can you make fun of Jesus?" Honey-buns...I'm not making fun of Jesus. I love Him. But I am poking fun at the group of Master Gold Level Believers at the church where Huggable Jesus is located. However, I want you to know that though my tongue is planted firmly in my cheek, it is in sisterly love y'all. Sisterly love.)
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
All's "Hair" In Love And War
So just so that you don't think that Butterbean has dropped off of the face of the earth...(she totally hasn't...I mean but she HAS been a little busy what with walking and toddling and learning new words and basically being a toddler. She's swamped.)
Here's a little convo we had just recently. Please overlook the empty boxes and dead plants in the background. It's not that I'm against cleaning up my front porch, it's just that I didn't do it BEFORE I started clicking away.
So...Butterbean has a little bit of an issue with her hair. And she came to me, her very loving and very wise Mimi.
Butterbean: Ummm...hey Mimi???
Me: Yes my little love?
Butterbean: Um, well, um could you maybe help me out with something?
Me: Of course I can, my angel. What is it?
Butterbean: Oh, well...it's my hair I mean...
....just LOOK at it, it's just you know...LAYING there. And stuff.
Me: Uh-huh. I see. Well...have you thought about putting a little hair clip in it?
Butterbean: What's a hairclip?
Me: Well, I think I have one here (digging in pocket) um, yes, I do. Here ya go kid.
Butterbean: What the heck is THAT? It's the most WONDERFUL thing I have EVER SEEN IN MY WHOLE LIFE!!!
Me: 'Bean honey it's just a hair clip...let's dial down the enthusiasm just a bit mkay precious?
Butterbean: YAY!!! I HAVE IT!!! I HAVE THE HAIRCLIP!!!! LOOK IT'S A HAIRCLIP!!! BY THE POWERS OF GREYSKULL...(wait Mimi...that's from He-Man. I don't even know who He-Man is...)
Me: (Sorry) Um, yes baby, that's a hairclip. Here...let me show you how to put it in...
Butterbean: OKAY!
Butterbean: Uh...you're gonna give that back right? Mimi?
Butterbean: Man, she is totally ignoring me right now. I can't believe this. What's the deal here? Why did she take my hairclip? I loved it so.
Me: There you go precious! What do you think?
Butterbean: Oh yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about. Beyonce' ain't got nothin' on me baby! Talk about puttin' a ring on it...huh...you betta put a HAIRCLIP on it girlfriend!
Butterbean: Hold on a minute Mimi, I think you need a close-up of this. Let me get on my ride and roll on over to you...
Me: Uh, 'Bean honey that's not really necessary...I have, like hundreds of shots here...
Butterbean: Let me just scoot on a little closer...you get your camera ready Mimi!
Me: Uh...Bean that's close baby...just um...you know...
Butterbean: Just. a. little. closer.
Me: 'Bean I'm bout to fall off the porch honey...
Butterbean: Almost....there....just...one...more...step
Me: Uh 'Bean, honey this isn't normal darling. Just BACK THAT PONY UP A LITTLE MIMI LOVES HER TOES DARLING!!! SHE'D LIKE TO KEEP THEM!!!
Butterbean: Are you ready Mimi?
Me: (Completely melted by those eyes) What toes?
Butterbean: So...how do I look?
Me: *sigh* Absolutely adorable.
Here's a little convo we had just recently. Please overlook the empty boxes and dead plants in the background. It's not that I'm against cleaning up my front porch, it's just that I didn't do it BEFORE I started clicking away.
So...Butterbean has a little bit of an issue with her hair. And she came to me, her very loving and very wise Mimi.
Me: Yes my little love?
Butterbean: Um, well, um could you maybe help me out with something?
Me: Of course I can, my angel. What is it?
Butterbean: Oh, well...it's my hair I mean...
Me: Uh-huh. I see. Well...have you thought about putting a little hair clip in it?
Butterbean: What's a hairclip?
Me: Well, I think I have one here (digging in pocket) um, yes, I do. Here ya go kid.
Me: 'Bean honey it's just a hair clip...let's dial down the enthusiasm just a bit mkay precious?
Me: (Sorry) Um, yes baby, that's a hairclip. Here...let me show you how to put it in...
Butterbean: Oh yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about. Beyonce' ain't got nothin' on me baby! Talk about puttin' a ring on it...huh...you betta put a HAIRCLIP on it girlfriend!
Me: Uh, 'Bean honey that's not really necessary...I have, like hundreds of shots here...
Me: Uh...Bean that's close baby...just um...you know...
Me: 'Bean I'm bout to fall off the porch honey...
Me: Uh 'Bean, honey this isn't normal darling. Just BACK THAT PONY UP A LITTLE MIMI LOVES HER TOES DARLING!!! SHE'D LIKE TO KEEP THEM!!!
Butterbean: Are you ready Mimi?
Me: (Completely melted by those eyes) What toes?
Me: *sigh* Absolutely adorable.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Hi...I'm Mimi and I'm Melaninally Challenged...
Don't let the title confuse you. I'm not mentally challenged (contrary to popular belief in the Mimi Supreme household) I am melaninally challenged.
Melaninally challenged - to be unable to scrape up enough melanin to produce anything close to resembling a tan.
Webster's and Merriam you are welcome. I'll be expecting a share of the royalties soon after my pet sea monkeys arrive in the mail.
Look y'all...what I'm trying to say is...I am not only a white woman...I'm a pale white woman. And...I know...this is quite possibly the most trivial first-world problem EVER...but it IS an issue.
And OH do I ever have a lee-tle bone to pick with the local, ahem, "meteorologists" around here. Oh, I know, I know...you can't control the weather...blah blah blah, but here's the deal weather people:
If the month of the year is April, and you've got your happy (or as Phil Robertson would say...happy happy happy) little sunfaces showing on the tv screen here's what blows through the cavern that is my mind...
SUNSHINE + APRIL IN THE SOUTH = HOT! TIME TO BREAK OUT THE CAPRI-PANTS!
Thaaat's right. Just because I can't use the sun's rays for what God intended them for...perfect honey-kissed skin...doesn't mean I'm not still affected by them. I get WARM y'all! So I use the capris for some air-conditioning AU NATURAL.
Cause y'all...nobody wants to see Mimi sweat. Ain't nobody got time for that!
But what has happened this year? It's April. I've got the sunfaces, I've got the capris, I've got my pale-ashy skin...which is now turning a nice shade of blue because OH MY LORD THE COLD!!!!
The sun (and the weather people) has hoodwinked me y'all. I been had. I tell ya I been bamboozled. And a lot of sweet, innocent little passersby who woke up this morning with no idea of what was in store for them today are now having to have medical attention because SUNRAYS BOUNCING OFF OF PALE WHITE SKIN = TEMPORARY BLINDNESS.
Yes weather people...it's possible that you are responsible for a small yet very devastating public health hazard. Because even though Meatloaf thinks two out of three ain't bad (or in this instance, 4 out of 5) ..in some cases...it is.
Very bad.
The only silver lining in this whole thing is the looks on my kids faces when Mimi breaks these bad puppies out.
It almost makes it worth the frostbite.
Melaninally challenged - to be unable to scrape up enough melanin to produce anything close to resembling a tan.
Webster's and Merriam you are welcome. I'll be expecting a share of the royalties soon after my pet sea monkeys arrive in the mail.
Look y'all...what I'm trying to say is...I am not only a white woman...I'm a pale white woman. And...I know...this is quite possibly the most trivial first-world problem EVER...but it IS an issue.
And OH do I ever have a lee-tle bone to pick with the local, ahem, "meteorologists" around here. Oh, I know, I know...you can't control the weather...blah blah blah, but here's the deal weather people:
If the month of the year is April, and you've got your happy (or as Phil Robertson would say...happy happy happy) little sunfaces showing on the tv screen here's what blows through the cavern that is my mind...
SUNSHINE + APRIL IN THE SOUTH = HOT! TIME TO BREAK OUT THE CAPRI-PANTS!
Thaaat's right. Just because I can't use the sun's rays for what God intended them for...perfect honey-kissed skin...doesn't mean I'm not still affected by them. I get WARM y'all! So I use the capris for some air-conditioning AU NATURAL.
Cause y'all...nobody wants to see Mimi sweat. Ain't nobody got time for that!
But what has happened this year? It's April. I've got the sunfaces, I've got the capris, I've got my pale-ashy skin...which is now turning a nice shade of blue because OH MY LORD THE COLD!!!!
The sun (and the weather people) has hoodwinked me y'all. I been had. I tell ya I been bamboozled. And a lot of sweet, innocent little passersby who woke up this morning with no idea of what was in store for them today are now having to have medical attention because SUNRAYS BOUNCING OFF OF PALE WHITE SKIN = TEMPORARY BLINDNESS.
Yes weather people...it's possible that you are responsible for a small yet very devastating public health hazard. Because even though Meatloaf thinks two out of three ain't bad (or in this instance, 4 out of 5) ..in some cases...it is.
Very bad.
The only silver lining in this whole thing is the looks on my kids faces when Mimi breaks these bad puppies out.
It almost makes it worth the frostbite.
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