Come Sail Away

I bought the Dramamine.

I tried on every outfit in my closet and threw them all in the suitcase.

I spent longer than two seconds shaving my legs and painting my toenails.  In February, no less.

I am about to boldly go where this momma has never gone before.  A sandy vacation.  With midnight buffets.

Sorry you couldn't come babe.  Just picture me lolling around in a hammock, cuz that is my agenda.

It's Raining Men

Scott and I exchanged a strange look with each other when we heard Roxy sing "It's Raining Men", which she has learned from a Wii game.  How are you supposed to feel about an eight year old singing about all the men?

The Franks fam cannot escape this theme this week.  It seems to be raining men.  And Scott does not like it.  Not one little bit.

It all started when Roxy was at lunch one day and a boy in her class asked if she was going to the school 80s party.  She said that she was going, and then he asked if she would like to dance with him.  And she said yes.

Roxy did not know that she would need to get her father's permission to dance with a cute blond boy with a third grade Bieber haircut.  

Roxy is so innocent.  And this boy is so sweet.  And Scott is ticked off.  Veiled threats were made.  This girl/boy relationship is based on lunchroom proximity and a love of Harry Potter books, but that does not matter to Scott.

So we get to the 80s party and there he is, wearing an 80s concert tshirt, denim jacket, and Chuck Taylors.  Roxy, wearing her paint splattered ruffle skirt, fingerless gloves, and Scrunchied pony tail - to the side- looks adorable in her Chuck Taylors, too.  I fumble in my purse, making sure I have my camera.

Roxy hooks up with the girl pack, and they circle the boys.  Kind of like something you would see on Animal Planet, waiting for someone to make the first move.

Roxy goes up and talks to him, but no dice.  A few minutes later she grabs him and he runs around with those girls, but still no dance.  Then she goes up to him later and gives him a high five, but yet again, he has not broken the ice and asked her to dance.

In the car on the way home, Roxy says that she had a good time, but how come the boy wouldn't dance with her?  I tell her that boys are very shy and that he is still her friend even though he was not ready to dance.  Roxy decides that she is kind of mad at him anyway.

Scott has a huge laugh at the boy's expense and feels like his telepathic powers controlled the entire situation.

How naive, young master Scott.

Two days later, Roxy brings home a phone number of a different boy from her class that she wants to contact about a "play date" where they can bond over Scribblenauts.  I ask how she got his number and she tells me that she gave him her phone number first so that they can help each other out on their game.  I then find out that she thinks this boy is even cuter than the other one and has thought so since the first day of school when she noticed him.  And can they have a play date tomorrow?

Roxy is so innocent.  She does not know that she needs her father's permission to give her phone number to a boy.

Currently, there have been no phone calls or play dates.  I am curious about the valentines Roxy will be sending these boys.  I just found out that she feels that both boys are "even" in how much she likes them.

Remember her song, Scottie.  It's raining men.

Southern Cultural Enrichment

Magazines are a weakness for me.  I do not care for electronic media, because sometimes the sum of the whole is greater than its parts.  Same things with albums:  you lose the point when you do not hear the whole concept of the artist, so buying individual songs defeats the message.

This is a magazine that I love and the whole magazine is greater than its parts, every single issue.  I just love it when a favorite band shows up on a favorite magazine.  And it is even better when there are lots of banjo bands in the magazine.

If you like the South and its food and its history, take a look at this magazine.  Makes you want to drive on an old road and look for the small town treasures...

Hello, I Am ISTJ

Have you ever been confronted with the limitations of your personality?  Maybe "limitations" is not the best choice of word, but today, it definitely felt like a limitation.


Over the years, I have had the opportunity to do a self-evaluation in the form of a Meyers-Briggs test.  Took one before I married my husband, and I took one after some major events went down (in the form of unemployment, sale of a home, parenthood, relocation to an unknown city 1000 miles away).  I had another test compiled for my husband and myself that provided much insight into the way our relationship works together and how our needs can be met when comparing the needs and personality of my husband.  I happen to love these test things, not because I am into psychology, but because it has a way of helping you remember how you are wired and what works for you.


In the beginning, I was an ENTJ (extrovert, intuitive, thinking, judging).  Because I am a constantly evolving mom, my label has changed.  I blame mommadom on switching from intuitive (N) to sensing (S).  Also, my role as preacher's wife and my marriage to an introvert has provided me with the insight that I am no longer an E (extrovert) but an I (introvert).  Once I earned an F (feeling) instead of T (thinking), but that was probably an anomaly or just a very hormonal day for me.  The funny thing about these tests is my husband's results:  they have not changed one little bit.  He is a hardcore INTJ, as far on the scale of each of those categories as possible.  My scores reside largely in the grayer areas.  It actually angered me the second time we had the analysis processed, because I could not figure out how on earth he could not change, and I was a statistical mess based on the way I was scored.  Hence, the anomaly/hormonal day.


As a parent, I am conscious of raising my girls to be flexible, forgiving, unafraid to try new things, ready for growth and development and knowledge.  Wouldn't it be great if I could remind myself of these things as well?  In my years on this earth, it never ceases to amaze me how i get myself into situations where I just shouldn't be, where I am so out of my element that I cannot remember the things I am trying to model to my girls.  I simply mess it all up, and because of the J (judging) part of me, I put my foot in my mouth.  In public, I should remain an I (introvert) and keep the E (extrovert) under wraps for my own good.  Good idea in theory, but very difficult to practice.


So the next time I have to work with the world, out there, or the next time I am trying to find some form of employment and am trying to impress a boss with my attributes (not limitations), I think I will print off a new name tag with this information:




ISTJ Quiet, serious, earn success by thoroughness and dependability. Practical, matter-of-fact, realistic, and responsible. Decide logically what should be done and work toward it steadily, regardless of distractions. Take pleasure in making everything orderly and organized – their work, their home, their life. Value traditions and loyalty.


Disclaimer:  Scott does not agree that I try to make everything orderly and organized.  Comparatively, he is definitely the organizer and orderly one and I am the loose, unscheduled one.  I like to think it is my mission in life to give him something to organize :)

Save the Date

In the mail today was a save the date card for a very happy and joyful upcoming day.  I am looking forward to this date, because it gives me a very definitive answer.

It is the date that I am officially "old."  Again.

Older than I knew I was, older than I felt, older than I want anyone else to know I am.

These moments creep up on you sometimes.  I felt it the other day when Roxy purchased a pair of fingerless gloves, Madonna-style circa 1983.  I remember watching MTV, seeing all the wannabes dressed like her.  My eight year old daughter has this accessory that makes me feel old.  I felt old this morning when I went into Darby's room, searching for something to wear that is hers.  You DEFINITELY feel old when you have a daughter that can supply you with clothing/accessories.  I remember watching kids I would babysit graduate from high school.  That was a very strange feeling.  Also, going to their wedding showers.  That is a weird event as well.

Now, my flower girl is getting married.  She was so little when I got married, in a beautiful white dress and ringlets.

This spurs another "senior" moment of oldness in my mind.  I will go comfort myself by pulling gray hairs out of my scalp and eating dinner at 4:30 tonight.  Sigh.

The Unplanned Staycation

 It came like a thief in the night.  Soundless...then shock and awe.  We had so much snow in one hour, then we got more, and more, then came the ice.  And we still have snow.  Everywhere.

Roads are passable now in most places.  We missed a whole week of school and had to deal with food shortages at stores and restaurants (and homes by the end of the week.)  People slipping on the ice filled emergency rooms, because they just had to get out and get their mail after not having mail service for three days.

We are almost back to our normal routine, except today is a holiday for MLK.  So please enjoy our photos:  the suspension bridge marble roller coaster is a true work of engineering, patience, and it is pretty fun, too.  Scott's work of engineering is his snow fort, where he led his poor little lamb daughters to the slaughter as they ducked inside and got pummeled by his snowballs.  The finished fort was four feet tall, with one side at five feet tall, and it had a tunnel entrance.  Scott spent hours on that thing!  Apparently, Darby has not read "The Art of War" by Tzu.  She could not fight back against Scott's attack.  But we had a huge laugh at Scott's expense when he tried to incorporate the zip line into his attack - and broke it and fell on his back.  It really was funny.  But now we have to fix the thing...

Roxy found little hills for sledding, or I should say gliding.  The inflatable snow mobile was just right for her.  Even Scott and I took it out for a spin, and I slid into the bushes because I am a nerd that way.

Sometimes being cooped up together is a good thing.  In this case, it was great.  Can't wait for the next Snowpocalypse.

Happy January Wedding Anniversary #15