Friday, July 16, 2010

Hot, Hot, Hot!!!

Do not be deceived by the enticing title of my first post as a blogger. It is not about me, chicken wing sauce, or even a very catchy party tune by Buster Poindexter in the eighties. It is about lack of coolness coming from my air conditioner vents, (certainly not lack of coolness coming from me!!, ha!) I am sitting in my very warm house waiting for the air conditioner man to come and tell me why my house is not at all pleasant to be in at 6:00 on any given balmy July southwest Alabama evening. And as usual, he hasn't arrived when I need him so I can not even take my children to the sweet relief of the swimming pool. My Caroline, who is 5, and very much a diva in training, has found herself unable to bear the conditions of the upstairs playroom/bedroom because of the immense heat. (Truthfully, I wouldn't want to play up there either) However, because of harsh sweatshop-like atmosphere, it has caused she and her 2 year old brother, Cooper, to bring all their paraphernalia down into the living room. Which is not a problem, but......

Caroline loves everything minature. See just a few of them right here. Minature Disney princesses (and all their counterparts), Littlest Pet Shop, tiny horses, and even little Smurfs, she found in my old toys. (Ok, Ok, so maybe I did too at that age, not the point) She calls them her figurines. Nothing like getting the tiny rubber hand of Cinderella stuck into a bare foot to make you mutter silent explicatives like Yosemite Sam after he has been foiled by Bugs Bunny. This also gives lots of ammo to our Cooper to steal an item and run for the hills, which results in Caroline chasing him down and snatching it back, which results in Cooper's high pitched scream, etc. Any mom knows that this could continue ad nauseum, which is why I like to try to keep all toys upstairs. I rarely succeed in this effort, air or no air.

Also, my sweet, fabulous parents have surprised me this week by inviting the kids to Cullomburg for the weekend and Woody and I aren't invited!!!! It's grandchildren only!! I have never been so happy to NOT receive an invitation in my life. What shall Woody and I do? Sleep late, definitely on the agenda. Maybe go out to eat at a place that doesn't involve a playground,here's hoping!! But more than likely I need to go get a book, plop myself on the couch and read self indulgently for several hours straight. Aaahhh! After all, for those of you who don't know, this weekend is the Open Championship, the British Open in layman's terms. The third jewel in golf's major crown. It is being held at lovely, windy St. Andrew's in Scotland, the home of golf actually. I say all this to say that is what Woody will be doing, getting up very early on Saturday and Sunday to watch golf. I must admit, it gets pretty intriguing when the weekend comes. I don't care much for the Thursday/Friday action because those leaders more often than not tank out over the weekend. Especially if it's someone random whose name you have never heard uttered before in your life. This poor fellow is usually toast on Saturday, therefore I don't like to waste precious minutes of my day following this inevitable drop back to obscurity. It's like watching the movie Titanic all over again; you know that the ship is going to sink.

Now I digress to why I chose the name Chipped Polish for my fledgling blog. As a very busy mom and wife, I usually don't make much time for myself. This results in chipped polish. I was indulging in a little self pity this week when I realized that Caroline (again, my 5 year old) has perfectly polished piggies, complete with a delicate flower with a rhinestone in the middle on her big toes. This was a result of her trip to the nail salon with her dear friend, Helen. I, on the other hand, glanced woefully down at my unattended toes with my at home polish job from 2 weeks ago and lamented at the chipped polish. But then I realized laughingly that is my life now. And that's OK. God has so graciously blessed me with a loving husband and two of the most precious children. What is a little chipped polish?

Also, as I reflect, I feel like chipped polish most of the time. I attempt to be in the know on what to wear, what to cook, how to keep a clean house, how to dress the kids, how to best make my kids smarter, what extracurricular activities to participate, etc. But I also feel that I fail miserably. My polish is always just a little chipped. But I have to remind myself in my quest for perfection that I am nothing without my Saviour. It is all His and everything falls into His perfect plan and purpose. I love the children's book by Max Lucado, You are Special. It's simple message emphasizes the power of prayer and talking with your Creator every day. He made me just like this: chips and all.
Aahhh! Sweet relief! My house is a bit cooler and I am about to leave soon to meet Momma and Daddy with the prince and princess. I am also thinking about getting a pedicure this weekend, no more chipped polish for me!! (at least for now)


  1. Mandy,
    I love it! Keep writing :o)
    We miss you guys in PCB!
    Jan Hurst

  2. Oh, Mandy! I can so relate to the chipped polished piggies and many other scenarios you've explained in this highly entertaining post. But you've definitely got the right attitude when handling these trivial moments: Don't sweat the little stuff, right?

    By the way, I'm so glad you're on! I'm already looking forward to the next post so please keep 'em coming, okay!