A mother of a tale

Officially speaking, I’m not a mother, but I have been known to play one during family affairs. My sister in law (SIL) gave birth to the most precious little boy about a year and a half ago. I call him ‘Baby J’ and I love him to pieces. I also have a special bond with him because I was one of the first people to see him when he was born. He arrived about five months too early; seeing that little miracle is one sight I will never forget. Baby J is growing and despite his surprise entrance into this world, is doing really well. He is one active toddler and is in the phase where he wants to put everything in his mouth. Needless to say, for this year's Mother’s Day, everyone was busy and someone had to keep an extra eye on the little guy. I wanted to give my SIL a break from being a mom for a few hours, so I tried my best to watch Baby J while she relaxed. In between making sure the baby didn’t get too close to the grill and fryer, I made a salad and fixed a fruit pizza. This taste of motherhood was a mouth full!

My in-laws live out in the country, so there is more than enough space for everyone to enjoy and relax. The baby loves to be outside – so that is where we spent most of our time. Unfortunately, you have to watch out for things you wouldn’t in the city: snakes, large bugs, loose dogs, snakes and dead carcasses. Since I appointed myself as the official baby caretaker, I had to observe all of the surroundings to ensure my nephew was kept safe and the opposite of snake bait. We had a lot of fun exploring the area and I enjoyed getting some sun.

The highlight of the day was when I backed into a birdbath, knocked it down and then fell into the water. I was soaked from the waist down and turned red from the neck up. Only one other person saw this smooth move and quickly came over to fix the bath. Thankfully, the 50-pound, solid rock basin fell in the opposite direction of where my nephew was standing. I laughed and the playing resumed once everyone made sure we were OK. My nephew didn’t even know what happened because he was busy picking up pieces of wood to put eat. I stood with my backside to the sun and said, “No, icky, yuck, yuck,” and tried to take the wood from his little fist. He put up quite a fight, but I eventually pried the soggy piece of nature from his little fingers. I threw it into the bushes and kept saying, “Yucky,” and “icky,” over and over. A few seconds later he picked up a stick, turned it horizontal and licked it. How he didn’t learn and grasp my icky mantra is beyond me. I repeated the previous steps and heaved the stick into the air and picked him up. “Let’s go see what your momma is doing,” I said.

I found my SIL sitting in the shade looking so relaxed and peaceful. “Are you wearing Auntie Becky out?” she asked as she took the baby and handed him a bottle. I smiled and said, “Of course not, we are having a fun time.” And I meant every word, but at the same time, I was relieved I could go back to just being an aunt and drying my pants off.

The dance will have to wait

A coworker told me about the Wye Mountain Daffodil Festival one morning while we waited for the company coffee maker to produce the coveted magic potion. He told me it was just past Pinnacle Mountain and a great local event to check out. I’m always up for an outing and if it’s local and supports hard working people, I’m all for it. This festival, I found out after some research, is a fundraiser for the Wye United Methodist Church. My coworker explained how there is a whole field of daffodils and you are able to pick some and buy bulbs and picnic and frolic in the fields. (Well, he didn’t mention the last part, but isn’t that what you are supposed to do – dance with daffodils?)

Also, I had never been to or heard of Wye before, but with a fun name like that, I knew I had to check it out. Parish had to work last Saturday, so I made myself lunch, grabbed a water bottle and headed out.

Of course I “Googled” to get directions and tried calling the church before I went, but all I got was a busy signal. I took that as a good sign, as in – the daffodil field is open and someone is too busy to answer the phone. That assumption I made came back to bite me in the end.

The timing actually worked out perfectly, I was in need of some personal/alone time and the journey to Wye provided some nice “me time.” I put in one of my favorite country music CDs, cranked it up, rolled down the windows and jumped on Highway 10. After about 35 minutes, I finally spotted the sign I needed – 113 North. I turned right and arrived at the church about five minutes later. Not one single soul was around and a line of orange cones was lined up in front of the entrance. My little daffodil-loving heart just plummeted into my socks. I looked around to make sure no one was playing a prank on me – they weren’t, because like I said, there wasn’t anyone around.

I gazed out to where the flowers were supposed to be and all I saw was green – not one spec of yellow. I was too late. I visited the Facebook page for the festival when I got home that night; it looks like such a pretty display. I’ve already (mentally) put it on my calendar of things to do next year. Only about 350 days to go…

Despite missing the blooms, the drive to Wye was really nice and getting to pass Lake Maumelle two times was a lovely treat. Since I was already out and about, I decided to walk around Pinnacle and bask in the sunshine. Pinnacle was hopping of course, but the half-mile trail by the playground wasn’t too busy. I also read my book, Little Bee, while sitting in the big open field. It was so peaceful.

By the time I got back in the car, I was a little sunburned, sweaty and thirsty – but I was happy. On the way home I treated myself to an iced coffee at Gellattes and finished my book. There is something to be said about taking some time out for yourself – whether the daffodils are in bloom or not.

A bullutiful ride

Sometimes you have to “Take life by the horns” literally. I did. During a recent night out, I rode a mechanical bull for the first time in my life. It turned out to be one of the most craziest and silly things I’ve ever done. Truly, it was the highlight of my week, perhaps month.

Parish and I checked out the Electric Cowboy off of Interstate 30. This was only our second visit in over three years, which tells you how much we think about the crazy club. We were actually heading downtown to hang out at a piano bar, when my husband nonchalantly said, “Do you want to go to the Electric Cowboy?” Being in a spontaneous mood and glad to be out of the house, I headed in the direction of the neon sign.

If you’ve never been to the EC – let me preface by saying it’s not a quiet place to meet friends and sip a martini. Trucks occupy a majority of the parking lot and there is a snack cart outside waiting for hungry, inebriated people.

Inside, a humongous dance floor is surrounded by bar maidens waiting to serve you. It’s a great place to go when you want to dance and you don’t care who watches you boot, scoot and boogie. The Electric Cowboy is also a fantastic place to people watch, because of the previous reason.

The mechanical bull resides within the wild walls of the club and for some reason I decided to jump on. Parish rode the bull first and I laughed so hard I thought I was going to need oxygen. My husband is not your traditional looking cowboy, not one bit! Watching him with one arm flapping in the air and the other tightly gripping the rope was almost too much. For $5 you had two chances to stay on the bull for as long as you could. I didn’t time Parish, but I think he stayed on for about 25 seconds. After he fell off for the second time, he asked if I wanted to try it. I hesitated for a moment as I looked at the slowly rocking bull. Then I thought, “What the heck?!”

One of the operators had to help me get on the bull and explained the simple instructions: wrap your legs around the neck and hold on. Slowly, my new friend started moving back and forth and then around in a circle. Part of the experience includes waving an arm in the air and shouting “Yow,” and “Yee-haw!” I was laughing so hard I could hardly get any audible word out. Parish said I squealed the whole time. All I remember is a 360-degree view of the club, Parish cheering and me flopping on the red blowup mat. I’m not sure how long I stayed on the bull, but it was worth $5 and then some. After the first go around, I wanted to try again, but spending $15 for less than 60 second of entertainment seemed a bit much. My forearm was sore the rest of the night – but I’m a tough cowgirl and put up with the pain.

We reminisced about our rides the rest of the night and the following morning. I’m smiling right now as I write this column – proving that taking life by the horns can be a fun $5 ride.

A shoe-in worth writing about

Elbows were flying, ladies were running, I was sweating and running barefoot. This recent craziness took place during a shoe sale at Dillard’s. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done and in order to snag a good pair of shoes, you had to be ready both physically and mentally.

I didn’t plan on going crazy, but when my bargain radar intercepted the 70 percent off signs above the racks and racks of shiny shoes, all bets were off. Seeing me go into bargain hunter mode was nothing new for Parish and he sought safety in another store. He’s a smart man. I wear a very feminine size 10, so I thought I would find the lonely rack and wouldn’t have to wrestle with the other little feet people. I was wrong. There wasn’t any organization and size fives were next to eights and size sixes were hanging out with nines. It was complete mayhem!

On the outskirts of the racks I found a couple lost boxes and low and behold, a beautiful pair of my-size 10, faux snake skin heels. Trust me, these shoes are absolutely lovely and it was must-have-at-first-sight. I clutched the box tightly as I went in to the main arena.
You had to keep on eye on your treasures; one lady interrogated me about where I found the good-looking pair. At this point, I took off the shoes I came in, plus socks and was trying on shoe after shoe. I have honestly never had that much fun shopping for shoes – ever.

Parish finally came out of hiding and found a safe spot to sit while I continued my mad spree. He actually turned out to be very helpful and commented on every pair I tried on. After I was done trying a few on, he would say, “Go back in there!” So I did. After about 25 shoes later, I surrendered. I had made it out alive with three pairs of beautiful shoes.

Parish told me to pick one pair and I nearly cried. One? I panicked and looked at the snakeskin pumps, they had been with me from the beginning. I also found a pretty pair of deep purple, patented shoes and a cute pair of black flats. He could tell that I was on the verge of tears and calmly said, “OK, let’s get all three.” I exhaled and hugged my understanding, patient and great partner in crime.

Please understand that this is not a normal occurrence. I don’t get treated to shoe shopping sprees every weekend. This was the first time sine we’ve been married (3 years, eight months) that I can recall such an event taking place. I wear shoes until something breaks, rips or becomes dangerous.

My mom sends me shoes from Colorado, which helps with my inventory. And if I do treat myself, I usually look at Payless or TJ Maxx first. Most of the shoes were originally $99 each and came to about $35 on sale. One pair was $26. So we got six shoes for the price of two. Isn’t that exciting?

I was beside myself for the rest of the day – I floated home and gingerly unpacked my new finds and arranged them neatly in my closet.

Retail therapy does exist and I think it works even better when you find a great sale and live to tell about it.

Give me something good...

Aretha Franklin was recently honored during the 53^rd Annual Grammy awards. Before streaming a video of the legend, a group of vocally blessed women paid tribute to the Queen of Soul.

Jennifer Hudson, Martina McBride, Christina Aguilera, Yolanda Adams and Florence Welch opened with "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman." It was excellent. I was familiar with most of the women except Welch, who is supposedly from Florence and the Machine – she was great. They started the show by showcasing their amazing vocal chords and I-can-hit-a-higher-note-than-you competition. Hudson already blew everyone away in “Dreamgirls” and she continues to give Beyonce a run for her money.

I grew up listening to McBride, my dad was and is still a huge fan of the country singer. Aguilera took center stage and even had an extra-fancy microphone and mic stand. I don’t know if she was trying to make up for the anthem flop or what, but she did an outstanding job. Adams belted out a lovely gospel song in honor of Franklin and showed the other ladies how it’s done. The opening act got us in the mood for the rest of the award show – Parish even liked it.

We stuck with the rest of the show, switching back and forth between a basketball game and musical acts. Bieber, as in Justin Bieber, seemed to be the buzzword for the evening. He performed with Jayden Smith and Bieber’s mentor, Usher. The 16-year, Canadian sensation is on fire right now. It will be interesting to see what happens to him once he goes through puberty, cuts his hair and starts driving a car.

As we watched performance after performance, including Lady Gaga coming out of an egg, Parish looked at me and asked, “What artists are going to be remembered from our generation?” He paused, looked back at the screen just as Eminem was shouting something in the microphone. “Can you understand anything he is saying?” Parish asked. I could make out a few words and from the ones I could decipher, it’s safe to say that Eminem is an angry man. Then I thought about Lady G coming on stage in an egg and then crawling out of the egg to sing, “Born This Way.” Seriously, what artists will we tell our children and grandchildren about?

My parents had Elvis, The Beatles, Aretha Franklin, Nat King Cole, the Bee Gees, the sounds from Motown and many more amazing artists.

Not to say that there haven’t been some talented people from the late 80s until now, there has. Let me think…there is the aforementioned talents of Beyonce, Jenifer Hudson, Usher, John Mayer, Madonna (late 90s notably) Carrie Underwood, Kelly Clarkson (both thanks to “American Idol”), John Legend, Lady Antebellum and Jamie Foxx. I’m sure I’ve left out a few, but those were the ones that came to mind as I wrote my column.

There seems to be a lot of one-hit wonder makers who don’t have the staying power of Elton John, Barbara Streisand or Dolly Parton. Perhaps I don’t have a lot of room to talk, because I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, seriously, I was given the only main, non-singing role in a musical. Therefore, I’m not one to judge who gets the right to make their stamp on the singing world. But I am the one who has to listen to it – so give me something good.

Techno is fabo

Technology came to the Brockman residence recently and we haven’t been the same since. Let me explain – the apartments we live at told us we had to change our Internet and cable providers to AT&T. It wasn’t a suggestion either - it was mandatory and enforced. At the time, we were using Comcast and for the record, were very happy with the service. Nonetheless, since a main source of entertainment is from the TV and Internet, we joined the herd and called AT&T.

Our cable guy showed up at our front door in the time slot he promised and after looking for the right wires for over 30 minutes, hooked us up. For some reason, he gave us wireless Internet, which is something we should’ve done years ago. Thanks to the handy cable guy, I can take the laptop anywhere within the 990 square feet of my living quarters. It is so awesome. I know wireless is not cutting edge anymore and even Taco Bell has WiFi, but it just floats my boat to Google from my kitchen table or bathtub.

In addition to the Internet, we also upgraded our cable and are able to record shows. Again, I know TiVo and DVRs have been around a while, but let me enjoy the coolness of it for a moment. We can record up to four shows at one time while watching another show or when the TV is off. Then we can watch the show or movie and fast-forward through the commercials. I think that is one of the best parts – skipping the stupid commercials. I know they aren’t all dumb, but I’ve seen enough Proactive and Cialis ads to last me a few decades.
Being able to record is great, especially for my husband who usually has about 10 shows he is following at one time. He really likes the DIY (Do it Yourself) Network and HGTV. One day he wants to renovate and sell houses, so right now he is educating himself by watching hours of shows on these two networks. I’m not complaining by any means, I understand there could be a lot less other things he could be in to. I’m glad he doesn’t shy away from hard work, nail guns or dilapidated duplexes. He is so fired up about remodeling a house one day and I know when that day comes, he will do amazing work.

I prefer to record shows like “Intervention,” “Weird Addictions: I eat chalk” and “The Bachelor.” Please don’t judge me – I need a mindless outlet after writing award-winning material all day.

The downside of all these high-tech additions is ripping yourself away from them to have an actual conversation with the person you are living with. On a recent Sunday afternoon, one of us was either on the computer, watching a show or recording something to watch later in the day. When it came time for lunch and dinner - we muted the TV, stopped surfing and listened to one another.

Eventually the newness of the wireless laptop will fade and Parish will get his fill of remodeled spaces and Brad will choose a wife. When all of that does happen, we will have one another and something money can’t buy – laughing and mentally recording more memories.

The lovely library

There is a public library .7 miles away from where I live in west Little Rock. I absolutely love living so close to such a fine institution of all things literary. At this point, I vow never to buy a Kindle or any other electronic reading device. When it comes to reading, I must be able to turn the pages and smell the history of the book. It’s just one of those things. In the same breath, I’m mildly addicted to my BlackBerry, so I’m all for modern inventions. Just don’t mess with my books!

OK, I think I’ve made my point. In the past year that I’ve lived at Turtle Creek Apartments, I’ve walked to the library about 15 or 20 times. Here’s my routine: I put the book I need on reserve, then the library sends me an email when it’s ready and then I grab my tennis shoes. It’s about a mile and half round trip. Sometimes I add a few steps by turning the corner at Hinson Road, but usually I’m on a mission to fetch my latest must-read.

During a recent trip to my library, I noticed the DVD section while I was retrieving my reserved book from the shelf. I walked over to the colorful rows of movies and started to remove them, one by one, from the shelf. Most of movies were a few years old (or more), but I did see some more recent ones as well. I selected four and made my way to the librarian. When I asked about the DVD rental limit, she told me I could check out five movies at a time. What a bargain!

In my excited state, I forgot that I had to carry four plastic sleeves and one book home with me. It was a balance act for sure. Because I still had my iPod, keys and phone to hold on to. It’s probably safe that the library has a limit, because I could see myself trying to carry 15 movies home and dropping half of them all over the sidewalk. No, four was more than enough.

On this first outing, I checked out the following movies: “Broken Flowers,” “Margot at the Wedding,” “The Bucket List,” and “The Family Stone.”

The first two movies were Sundance Film Festival type of movies, not too mainstream, but very good. Bill Murray and Sharon Stone played old flames in “Broken Flowers.” It was an odd flick, but the soundtrack was amazing, I’m on the search for it. The second movie featured Nicole Kidman, Jack Black and Jennifer Jason Leigh. I enjoyed seeing Kidman in this indie film – she is one talented lady. Funny-man Jack played a struggling musician/critic. He is always fun to watch, so unpredictable and outrageous.

Parish and I watched “The Bucket List” together and I cried at the end, of course. Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman were great together and actually looked like they could be good friends in real life. The last movie, “The Family Stone,” featured an ensemble cast including Sarah Jessica Parker, Diane Keaton, Luke Wilson, Rachel McAdams and Claire Danes. It’s a cute movie. It won’t change your life, but it’s fun to watch. I cried at the end of that one too. Now it’s back to the library for more movies and a book or two.