As my plane started down the runway from LAX tonight, a darling Spanish grandmother seated next to me did the sign of the cross. I reached over, squeezed her arm and she patted my hand in return — smiling and pointing up to God.

The last three days have been a whirlwind of Disney and Mermaids and Minnie and puppies and magic and everything that is right and good in my world. This most recent press trip, covering the rerelease of The Little Mermaid Blu-Ray, the world premier of Planes as well as a super special peek at Frozen (!!) and a few other surprises was attended by about a dozen bloggers, most of whom I had never met before. There was also another group of composed entirely of pastor’s wives.

There was a lot of head scratching from the bloggers about the pastor’s wives. (Just as the pastor’s wives were most likely mystified by the bloggers.) Some people thought maybe they were there because they didn’t get out much? So Disney was trying to show them a good time as an act of good will?

Turns out these women get out plenty, many of them work hands on with missions overseas, others hold high ranking positions within their church. One woman’s husband oversees a worldwide congregation of over 22,000 and we talked about fake hair and Spanx like old friends. “The wives” as they came to be known were lovely — charming, poised, elegant, and kind. Most importantly, they are influential in an entirely different capacity than a blogger or traditional journalist. It was amazing to see that influence leveraged through these ladies.

One woman, an executive pastor in her church, told me about a woman in Mozambique who admitted to nearly poisoning her children because she just couldn’t handle them crying anymore.

Proving that the difficulties of motherhood aren’t geographically confined.

I’m not sure if my path will ever cross with these women again, but they forever changed the schoolmarm image I had of a pastor’s wife. If you’re out there, thanks.

Hopefully in return I was able to demystify bloggers.

We’re a funny hodgepodge bunch.

(Example? We were able to meet with Jodi Benson, the voice of Ariel (which !!!) and at the end of a moderated discussion someone asked if she would sing. Jodi smiled and said “Sure!” then went straight into ‘Part of Your World’ Suddenly a dozen bloggers screamed “NOT YET!” scaring Jodi half to death as two dozen video cameras, phones and audio recorders were raised in the air. She was then allowed to sing. Only a handful of people would tell Disney royalty to stop singing then tell her when she could resume.)

Thankfully I never pushed stop on my video camera and caught the whole thing.

Tonight, two shorter people (myself included) were talking with a much taller person tonight when the topic of high shelves came up.

I have high shelves, several of them.

I also have a toddler who likes to sit on counters and participate in general mayhem, so keeping a stool out isn’t exactly the safest solution for me to reach the high shelves.

The other short person in the conversation mentioned she had a perfectly angled potato masher to hook around items on high shelves in order to pull them closer to her.

I have a long wooden spoon and a rubber spatula I am quite adept with, we both pantomimed our long-stick-thing-reach-to-the-top-shelf-flick-it-off-and-catch maneuver for the very tall girl.

Apparently using sticks to get things off high shelves is a very common short person solution. Who knew?

I’m also quite skilled in the one-knee-hop-up onto the counter, but I try not to do that one when anyone is watching because A) Addie and Vivi would try to copy me and B) Cody would get grumpy with me. (But then get frustrated when I make him get up to reach the juice pitcher/stock pot/chip and dip tray I can’t reach from the tippy top shelf.)

Can you reach your top shelf or do you have a trusty method of top shelf retrieval that involves various kitchen utensils?

(I also have been known to hoiste Addie up so she could reach an item on a high grocery store shelf. She thinks it’s hysterical, I just call it vertically challenged teamwork.)

I am honored to be a part of the United Nation’s Foundation and Shot@Life’s campaign, Blogust this year.

Today on Babble I’m talking about two, something I am currently living. (Vivi’s started telling everything and everyone “I LOVE YOU!” and it’s adorable.)

Every comment over on my Babble post equals one vaccine for a child who needs it.

Won’t you help me get even more kids to two?

Click here to comment.

 

I’m trying to be more naked — in the gym locker room at least.

While I perfected the get-dressed-under-the-towel routine in high school, there’s no reason for me to still be doing it at 31.

Especially when I’m alone in the locker room.

It’s when I’m alone in the locker room that I’ve been testing out the whole naked thing, what’s the big deal? Being naked is fine!

The big deal is I tried the “I thought I was by myself” naked thing today only to turn around topless and face to face with a woman from church.

“HI THERE. HERE’S MY BOOBS. BET YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU’D BE SEEING THOSE!”

The thing is, she didn’t care. She’s not going to run off and tell everyone else that my left boob is noticeably bigger than my right or that I failed to groom a few dark hairs growing around my bellybutton.

In fact I’d like Addie to be around the ladies locker room a little bit more, so she can see what regular bodies look like more often rather than seeing the ones in various magazines and catalogs around my house where everyone is smooth and no one has varicose veins or foldy bits on their midsection.

Eventually 98% of us are going to end up a little softer, rounder, more dimpled and more textured in our older years. Seeing it our younger years lets us know what’s ahead, and there’s nothing wrong with what’s ahead as long as we’re happy and healthy.

I’ve had terrible body image issues throughout my entire life, I had C cups in 7th grade while both my mom and my sister have always been twee and petite. If you know me for real you’ll know I’m not a hulking human being by any means, but in my house growing up (and even to this day) I feel enormous next to my mom and sister.

My mom has always taken pretty good care of herself, but not to the extremes that I have had to go to in order to stay fitting in my pants, she comes from stupid good genetics and there’s times I curse the fact that I didn’t get more of them. I keep telling myself that one day the fact that I have never stepped toe in a tanning bed or spent much time in the sun will pay off — but until then I’m left feeling incredibly average, round, and soft, which is fine.

I just have to constantly remind myself that I’m perfect just the way I am.

Lopsided tatas and all.

 

On Saturday Addie and I went straight from Sarasota, Florida to Miami, Florida where we got on a boat.

A cruise ship to be more specific.

The super enormous Carnival Breeze to be incredibly specific.

We’re currently a few hundred miles away from St. Thomas, USVI and this post has already cost $6.50 in satellite Internet.

What am I doing on a boat? Well this super hip ad agency had the idea to bring 10 people and their smartphones on the boat to track moments as they happen on the ship.

We’ve all seen stock photography, the happy family having SO! MUCH! FUN! This on the other hand is real, these photos are our real families doing real things on a real cruise. No models, no art directors, no hair and makeup, no stylists.

My mom’s here too. (Say hi mom!) The moment I walked into our stateroom she said “You’re pretty small potatoes compared to everyone else here.”

Thanks mom.

If we’re going by followers I am 10 of 10 by a long shot. I am shooting with some wicked talented people, but I feel as though I’m holding my own. (I’m also the only Android.)

Comparison is the thief of joy, and right now I don’t want any of this joy thieved.

I’m currently sitting in a bar, the karaoke has started and people are becoming a lot more fun with their fruity beverages as I fade into tired oblivion.

There was a lot of water sliding done today.

If you’re interested, you can follow most of my photos right here, or you can see my favorites on my personal account.

******

A special thanks to Carnival for having us on their ship. Travel expenses have been covered for my family and me, all opinions are my own.

Whew.

How is it almost the middle of July already, wasn’t it just January last month? Stuff’s been busy around here. Summer’s winding down, the toddler is wound up and Addie — let’s talk about the emotions of an eight and half year old girl shall we? SO many emotions. She’s SO tender.

Seriously, let’s talk.

Over on babble:

Curious what I looked like as a toddler? Here you go! (Plus some comparisons of the toddlers I made!)

“Don’t do drugs, but if you do — use a clean needle.” And 16 other conversations I’ve had with Addie in my head about the tough stuff.

FOOOOOOOOD.
I love food.
Here’s some of the best foods I’ve had.

This post is sponsored by Disney Story. To find out more about this brand-new story-creation app – and how it puts the power of storytelling in your hands – click here.

The weather last year was so dry that fireworks were deemed illegal and all firework shows around Indy were cancelled.

It was a total bummer.

The year before Vivi was teeny tiny and Cody was deathly ill. All I remember about the 4th in 2011 was having to navigate through ALL THE PEOPLE watching fireworks in order to get to the drugstore to get Cody medicine.

While I realize there’s a lot more to America’s birthday than fireworks, I can tell you last year was really weird without them.

We managed to make up for the last two years of strange Fourth of July holidays yesterday with our new BBQ, perfect weather (um, ignore the downpour that happened right as Addie and I were leaving the store.) and a raid on the local fireworks store.

Unlike little Addie, little Vivi LOVES fireworks to an almost disconcerting level. (Fearless that child is.)

Continue reading “our third try at the fourth”