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Dear Walt Disney World:

I really relished the Disney Princess Half Marathon Weekend. In fact, I thought it was an incredible opportunity to live it up!  However, I had no idea you would embarresingly post pictures and videos and create a vision for the world of just how horrific I look in workout attire, how awkward I run, and how ridiculous I am after running 13.1 miles.

I spent way too much on this event. Mickey, you can be confident I will not exceed my budget when it comes to purchasing this memorabilia. I guess, your social media accomplished one thing: proof to the world that fat women CAN run. Yee haw. Girls, I did it!  

If only I had known, I would have spruced up before the 4a bus ride, put on some make up,  worn something more flattering and less frumpish.

All in all, your disregard for my race-privacy-wish does not inhibit my fancy for the Disney Princess Half Marathon. It was an unbelievably, marvelous time. Thanks for a show stopping princess-of-an-event that helped me reach my goals and gave me an opportunity to revel in girl time.

Yours most truely embarressed,




 GUILT by Ryan Jarvis Photography.

This mommy-poem arrived via email today. It is spine-chillingly true in a weird sort-of-way. There must be a fly on the wall about here. A biographist he must be. This sounds exactly like a typical chain of events here in hulsey-ville.  

If You Give a Mom a Muffin

If you give a mom a muffin,
She’ll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
So she’ll pour herself some.
The coffee will get spilled by her three year old.
She’ll wipe it up.

Wiping the floor, she will find some dirty socks.
She’ll remember she has to do some laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She’ll trip over some snow boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan supper for tonight.

She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She’ll look for her cookbook. (101 Things To Make With a Pound of
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill which is due tomorrow.
She will look for the checkbook.

The checkbook is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two year old.
She’ll smell something funny.
She’ll change the two year old.
While she is changing the two year old the phone will ring. (Of course!)
Her five year old will answer it and hang up.

She remembers that she wants to phone a friend to come over for coffee on
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
She will pour herself some.
And chances are,
If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

Written by Kathy Fictorie

Based on If You Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Numeroff
Photo Compliments of Ryan Jarvis Photography
blogging fog

blogging fog

The Rambling Housewifehas heard that you can get hooked on blogging. WHAT? No freaking way! Like crack?  Oh, yeah baby.  And, I mean Mama Crank. 

Checking your stats can become habit forming. While you can become enslaved to the posts of your favorite blogs — checking religiously for updates. Hmm…what IS the financial tip from The Simple Dollar  today?  And, How IS The Christiansons Life?  Inquiring minds must know, know, know. Oh, yes. I forgot I am writing this post. Ut-hum. Pardon me. There goes my bloggy mind again!

I am just kidding. Blog cravings are really not that bad.  On second thought:  Are they? I guess it depends on your sweet tooth. Do you need something Sorta Crunchy or a caramel coated look at geeky girls’ guide to the first year of motherhood? Or, maybe it’s a haunting look-see at Seth Godins blog that has you in a fix. 

Since I only recently joined the blogosphere, I am surprised by what a popular part of my day blogging is.  I love it! I can’t believe that I want to go to the Savannah Blogging Conference.  Or, that I would like to see Daisy’s contribution to Artful Blogging (a real, printed magazine about blogging). But, I do. I really like blogging.  It’s my favorite new hobby.  It’s my escape from the laundry loads that await, the mundane excitement levels of my day, the noisy-ness of a house with a child and two dogs. It is a way for me to share pictures of Beatrice and Barry with my sister, my Aunt’s, my Uncles, my husband’s family, my mom and Brian’s mom. It’s my time for me, just me and only me, me, me! It is the only “me” thing in my day, most days.

Admittedly, blogging is fetching, haunting and down-right addictive. But, when you feel the monkey on your back like when blogging takes up too much of your time, or distracts you from the things in your life that are important it’s time to back off, to obstain from the daily shot. Get your kicks with you family, away from the computer. Get simple, like Boys Rule My Life.

I edit the time stamps some times so that the posts fall out over a period of days. It keeps me in the daily sphere – but more on my time.  That is just a tip from mwa.

Put daily walks in your bag to smoke.  And, get off the darn computer.  Get a life for goodness sakes, a breath of fresh air.  Get hooked on peace, love, and the people that you adore. 

…and then go get your blog fix.

*Photos by nj dodge and by on flickr


If you are blogging in line at the bistro, then you might need to consider a break.

Screeching in the driveway 15 minutes late, Beatrice and I abruptly and barely put-together arrived at our morning date to “bead.”  As newbies to the craft we had to make a last minute run to Wal-mart in the rain to purchase beads at 9:00 a. 

Even I, the not-s0-crafty mother, have to admit it was fun. My finery was less spectacular than the other three beaders, but it was fun to make. Their pieces look really, really good.  But, mine is just right for me.  I like it!

As I attempted to take a photo of my work, a saga unfolded.  Watch and see:


She hasn’t noticed.


She sees it.

She’s coming.


I want to see that. 
 hmm…very interesting.  I really like this Mommy.


 I want it Mommy. No. Huh-huh. Bracelets are not for babies.

Why not!
Barry wants a look-see.
Nice jewels.
It’s nice and all, but I really just want my back scratched. 


I take off the new jewels and the family is happy. 
THEY ALL jump in my lap with excitement!

Happy Friday, Ya’ll!

Doesn’t everyone need a sexy Santa for Christmas?  Click here  if YOU do!

Santa is saucy this year.  Go Santa. Go!

You are not going to belive your eyes. My sister and her family elfed themselves.  You have GOT to see this. 

Click here.  

Want to elf yourself?  Click here.

Officemax’s marketing team did a super job this year. This is a fantastic way to drive traffic to their site.  Of course, the Hulsey’s didn’t want to be upstaged. I tried to elf-ourselves but it “timed out” twice.  Bah-humbug for the Hulseys.  We can not be elfed!

Several people sent me this.  Normally, I get rather bothered by forwards. However, this is a good one.  I love the necklace!  I hate to be a gater hater, but…well, I am  just bred that way.

So, huh, the winner is Tim Tebow.  The irony of this situation is ridicuolous. As a  Georgia fan, I automatically take issue with Tim winning the Heisman. But it is more than that. Not only has Timmy never beaten Auburn.  His team has 3 losses. Wow. That is funny. I always thought wins and losses were a key ingredient to the complicated algorithm used to choose the winner.  I am not good with algorithms anyway.  Maybe I am just confused.  Or maybe the old rules just don’t apply now. It was the main argument, however, when Peyton Manning was snubbed in 97 for Charles Woodson (Eric Berry’s stats this year are better than Woodson’s in 1997). “Peyton can’t beat Florida!”…oh the irony.

Enjoy your Heisman, Timmy.  Sorry about the Georgia-Florida this year!

My tree is kind of bare without a tree topper or a garland. My creativity has run dry as I searched on the internet for ideas.  Low and behold, you won’t believe what I found. It is so bizarre that I have to share it.  I mean, you just won’t believe the creativity of some people.  Please don’t think I am repulsive, or that I will adorne our tree top with this number.  But, this is just so well, over the top. I have to show it to you.  Where do you think people find the time to come up with things like this?

Christmas Tree Topper: Made with Tampons


Nothing Says Christmas like a Tampon Christmas Star at the top of the tree, right?

These pristine snowflakes make a perfect glittery Christmas tree topper, or hang a few in the window for some holiday sparkle. Go to Tampon to see how to make this one for yourself.

Here’s a link to the blog where I found this, HERE.

Okay, since I have had a Statesboro theme lately I can not resist showing you this fine display of South Georgia talent. 

Hell LOW flesh peddlers, your talent search will come to a  halt upon feasting your eyes on this commercial. It’s great to know there are a few souls with aptitude in the Bulloch County area. Who said, “white redneck men can’t dance?”

I have GOT to share this. If you do not do any thing else today, you must find a computer with sound and watch this.  I promise, you are going to smile. It is absolutely ridiculous. 

This one goes out to Amy — my long left the ‘boro, we went to the science fair in the 8th grade, I am super smart, beautiful friend Amy.  You, anyone who lives in Statesboro but does not have cable, former Statesboro residents, and well, just anybody have need to see this.  This is a a real commercial created and aired right here in the ‘boro. You either hate it or you love it.  For those of you who do not live here anymore, this is a reminder of why you relocated.  Yes, this commercial won Northland Cables BEST COMMERCIAL one year.  I am serious.  When this is the cream of the crop, you have a good idea about the quality level of programming we experience in rural Georgia.

So, do you love it, or do you hate it?  I want to know what you think.

I LOVE it. I am just cheesy like that!

Brinnng. Brinnnng. The phone rang furiously.  My bottem was in-air as I was bent over the front seat, seat-belt unlatched to try to catch the caller.  Like a dog trying to unearth a bone, I frantically dug in the baby bag, pocket book, and shopping sacks while my hiney shined at passersby.  Brinnng. Brinnnnng. One hand in, one hand out.  My body was tinkering.  Got it.  Upon locating my phone, I held the prize as I quickly scooted into normal passenger  mode. 

“Hello,” I answered.  There was no dial tone. The voice mail answered before I could. Rats! 

As I listened to the message, Brian began to laugh uncontrollably.  “I was calling to see if you wanted a T-shirt,” the caller recorded.  Hysterically, my husband tears with laughter. “We are placing orders for the MOMs Club T-shirts. Do you want one,” the message continued.  In true St. Nick fashion my husband bounces up in down in the drivers seat with laughter. Jolly old Brian’s entire body vibrated with cackles of amusement until tears came to his eyes. 

“Babe, you have to tell me what is so funny,” I told him.  He withheld. I pursued.  Finally, he confided: that is the funniest thing that I have ever heard.  Apparently, the thought of MOMs Club apparel brings him shrieking with merriment.  “This is over-the-top,” he howled still bubbling with snickers.  Before he could contain his chuckles, I told him that I had actually ALREADY ordered one.  I bought one as soon as I found out about it!  In fact, I can’t wait for it to come in. 

“That’s great,” he cheerfully tittered.  “That is so great. I am glad to see you are so excited about being a Mom.” 

We retired the conversation, as I sat smugly rolling my eyes at his amusement and he sat face-strapped-with-a-smile.  I still do not know what is so funny about having a T-shirt for the MOMs Club.  I have Rotary Club T-shirts, old sorority t-shirts, Ga-Fl T-shirts, and shirts for banks and every other establishment in town.  I guess he doesn’t think the MOMs club is a serious club.  I guess he doesn’t think that changing diapers repeatedly every day, planning menus, shopping for ingredients, entertaining a 7 month old with music, toys, dancing, and conversation warrents a garment.  But, it does.  We deserve so much more than a lousy t-shirt.  Actually, Moms deserve a trophy.  And you know, we have one, or two, or three, or even four.  Each new family member, with their toothless grins and warm kisses, is trouphy enough.  So, I guess he is right afterall.  We don’t JUST deserve a t-shirt, though, we deserve more. 

Speaking of T-Shirts and Dads, I think this guy has a clue. I believe I am going to order one of these for dear old Papa Brian!


Okay, okay. Everyone is taking this shooting thing way too serious.  Someone sent me an email with a link to this number. Some things are pretty in pink. Other things are not.  Besides, I am not even in the clay challenge any more.  So, everyone can back off. And, keep your jokes to yourself.  Although, I must admit they make me laugh. That considered, keep sending the jokes.  They are really funny. I love them!

If you REALLY are interested in a Pink Remington Shot Gun, then here are a few links for the fashion minded gun enthusiasts:

BB Gadgets

The Third Rail Design

Ripe Now

Trend Hunter