I don’t get writer’s block.  I have plenty of ideas.  In fact, and I’m risking jinxing myself here, I get ideas all the time.  Problem is, I don’t have a lot of writer’s follow- through.  This condition is also known as laziness and/or being a flake.  Oh well.  I do make a mean buttermilk biscuit, so.

Like, the other day I was angrily punching buttons on my beloved XM radio because I had heard every song it was playing at least 970 times.  And it made me think, “Hey, what if there were a woman who had complete amnesia so that every time she heard a song on the radio it was, literally, like the first time?  How cool would it be to hear the flip side of Abbey Road again with virgin ears?  And what if this memory loss allowed her to start over in life, including completely changing her way of being in all of her relationships?  There could be this funny and awkward scene with her and her husband in bed, trying to figure out how to ‘be’ together as husband and wife.  That’s a good idea.  Hey, this could be a screenplay starring my new favorite awesome yet highly underrated actress, Sandra Bullock!”

And then – nothing.  So feel free to steal that idea if you want because I’m out.

Thus, it is the same with Evie’s blog.  Sometimes I have a bunch of little ideas but have just the darndest time fleshing them out.  So, I came up with this idea, which I could and did see through to completion (go, me!).  Below is a collection of Evie snippets, if you will.  Brief ponderings.  Sudden musings.  Bright flashes of light that ricochet through my brain and then die a coward’s death.  Enjoy!


 1)  Evie and I have a routine in the morning from which we rarely deviate.  Part of that routine involves turning on background music to provide a pack-up-all-our-crap-so-maybe-we-can-leave-on-time-today-for-a-change-okay?-jeez soundtrack.  We like country and the 80’s.  On Monday morning Evie was enjoying shaking her booty to “Bad” by Michael Jackson.  I told her it was time to go and turned off the music. 

 Y’all, she whipped her head around all frustrated and passionately declared, “I wanna dance!” 

 Evie, honey, I couldn’t have said it better myself.

 2)  Saturday night Gill and I decided to make an informed and purposeful choice to eat off-plan from our diet.  This is also known as cheating.  We ordered delicious, delightful and decadent pizza.  When Gill walked through the door carrying the warm, yummy-smelling boxes, Evie hollered, “Pee-sah!  Pee-sah!”

 We placed the boxes on the coffee table and began to eat.  Evie circled the table the entire time, happily sharing our dinner and chanting, “Pee-sah!  Pee-sah!”

 I think I used to do the same thing in college.


 The longer I am a mommy, the more convinced I am not only that there is a God, but that he always seems to grab his remote and flip over to my station juuust in time. 

 One morning I was frying eggs for breakfast.  I had my back turned to the stove and my precious angel-baby picked that moment to toddle over to the burning-hot pan and try to grab its handle, which was jutting out from the stove. 

 It all happened in slow motion.  I turned around just as her little hand reached up for the handle, snatched it away and had another in a growing series of mini-heart attacks.  Handles are now turned as far in towards the back of the stove as they will go.  Always.

 But what made me turn around at that moment?  There was no reason for me to.  It was almost like someone tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “Hey, genius, turn around before your child permanently disfigures herself.”

 The other night I was putting Evie to bed.  I called to her from her bedroom, which is connected to our bedroom by a short hallway.  Evie came at a brisk trot through that hallway, her momentum becoming more than her equilibrium could handle.  She fell.  She fell and landed with her beautiful forehead centimeters, millimeters away from a hard, mean ol’ doorjamb.  That would have hurt.  It was almost like invisible hands reached out to her in midair, yanking her little ankles back juuust far enough.

 God?  Please keep my baby safe from doorjambs that aren’t my fault and hot frying pans that are.  And, if at all possible, I still really want that Toyota Tundra.  You know, if you think about it.  Thanks.  I mean…amen.


 1)  I consider myself, generally, to be a calm driver.  I don’t have a long commute anymore, so vehicular serenity is a luxury I can afford, unlike some people.  Still, idiots drive among us, and even we serene drivers get ticked off now and then.  Like, you know when you want to get over into the adjacent lane?  And you signal, check your mirrors and your blind spot and then get ready to make your move?  And then the driver who was at least two car lengths behind you in said adjacent lane decides that “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” and speeds up to cut you off?

 Man, that really, really makes me very angry.  Because you know he/she is doing it just to be an ASS.  So, this happened to me last week, and I told the offending driver exactly what I thought of her.

 Echoed from the carseat in the back came the cutest little “Ass!” you’ve ever heard.


 2)  I’ve told y’all about my cat, Roxie.  Well, things haven’t gotten much better.  Roxie is still constantly under my feet, constantly yammering away outside the baby’s room when Evie’s trying to sleep and constantly throwing up.  Well, not constantly throwing up.  But I do think she does it on purpose and in places where she knows I’ll step in it.  Gross.

 I’m still toying with the idea of putting both cats on Ebay.  I have a lot to do and little patience for those who would obstruct my path with their constant neediness.  And/or vomit. 

 So now, Evie, otherwise known as my little mirror, makes sure that Roxie is consistently and thoroughly reprimanded for…nothing at all.  In other words, every time Roxie wanders innocently into the room Evie berates her with a stern “No!” and “Down!”  Poor, bewildered Roxie looks at Evie like, “What, Baby?  I didn’t even do anything!”

 This is hilarious and pitiful at the same time.


Now you have had a brief romp through my half-baked ideas.  Add them all up and you’ve got a disjointed, rambling blog post.

I do this because I love, people.