You know you live in Louisiana when....

You know you live in Louisiana when..... the Friday before the Superbowl, you can't get out of your driveway because a pack of Elementary School kids are flooding the streets.
You know you live in Louisiana when that pack of kids congregate on the street corner, joined by the local high school marching band....creating a mob of people that requires police presence and a call to the local Newspaper.
You know you live in Louisiana when the pack of kids all start chanting "Who Dat....Who Dat....Who Dat say they gonna beat them Saints!" And march down the street to "When the Saints go Marching In"
You know you live in Louisiana when your team wins the Superbowl, a crowd equally as large floods the street in the night, hugging, kissing, and screaming. The sounds of car horns beep like crazy, the police and fire trucks circle the neighborhoods with lights and sirens going....not because of any local crime, but because they too, are celebrating a victory. Fireworks are blasting, there is dancing in the streets, and celebrations that last for hours.

And you know you live in Louisiana, when you are proud to call this place home.

Not Me Monday

I don't participate in Not Me Monday very often. But I had to confess this one, because it is eating me up inside.

I simply did not lose track of my baby during my oldest child's birthday party at the bowling alley....and I absolutely DID NOT find her playing underneath some scaffolding where someone was messing around with lighting and sound equipment. And one of my friends most certainly DID NOT take a picture of it. I am the most responsible parent I know of, and would NEVER stop for a second to dance at my daughter's birthday party. And I'm am NOT posting this picture as proof that I was actually at the birthday party.


And finally, I did not grin from ear to ear when my husband wanted to purchase The Big Apple a BB gun for her birthday. I did not totally laugh my head off when upon opening her gift did the words "But girls aren't allowed to shoot guns!" Furthermore, I did NOT give her and her daddy the "thumbs up" when he took her outside, and began giving her her first lessons in safety....and her taking down the target.
Want to participate in Not Me Monday? Head on over to MckMama's Blog and sign right up! It's fun!

So this is what 8 feels like.......

"So, this is what 8 feels like...." ~~~The Big Apple, (Feb. 3rd, 2010)



It feels like going out for your birthday at Incredible Pizza, and discovering that even the signs on the wall are all about you. It feels like playing Skiball with your sister....as many times as you want.
It feels like shooting hoops, and actually making some.

It feels like going bowling......

and shooting. (Her daddy would be so proud.) And he bought her a BB gun for her birthday, but we are waiting until he gets back from his trip to give it to her.
Being 8 feels like go-kart racing with your friends, and coming in dead last...but you don't mind because even the employees at Incredible Pizza will drive you around because they know it's your birthday and want you to have a blast.

The Big Apple turned 8 years old yesterday. It was a bittersweet, but perfect day.

She finished off the day by spilling over a box of my tampons in the bathroom at bedtime, and asked what they were. I asked her if she felt grown up enough to know, and she said she was. And I guess that 8 years old is old enough, because I sat her down and gave her just enough information for an 8 year old to know, and as scientific and factual as I could be because I know how her brain works....and instead of her being horrified about the prospect of growing and changing...she asked some very good questions and thought the whole monthly thing was kind of cool.

My little girl is growing up at lightning speed....and as sad as that makes me, I am beyond proud of her and am enjoying every single second of it.

I need to hear from some of my bloggers.....when did you first start telling your kids about the facts of life? I'm hoping that I didn't start too early...I just saw an open window for information last night and went for it.

Mardi Gras Unraveled: King Cake

History of the King Cake

The Epiphany or Little Christmas is observed on January 6 in many Christian churches. This day has come to be known as "Kings Day".

Since the 300's, King's Day has honored the meeting of the Three Wise Men with the infant Jesus. King Cakes became part of the celebration to symbolize the "finding of baby Jesus".

Traditionally King Cakes are oval-shaped to show unity of all Christians. It is also said that the oval shape represents the path that the Kings traveled after they visited Jesus. The Mardi Gras season which begins on January 6th is expressed on King Cakes by using the carnival colors of:
green (signifying Faith)
gold (signifying Power)
purple (signifying Justice).

In the past, a bean, pecan, pea, or coin was hidden inside each King Cake. Today, a tiny plastic baby is used. Sometimes the baby can be made of porcelain or even gold. As a King Cake is cut, each person awaits anxiously for a piece to locate the "baby". The person who finds the baby is "King of the Party" and obligated to bring a King Cake to the next seasonal celebration.

King Cake is very very sweet. It is generally filled with cinnamon, but you can find King Cake with many different flavors of filling......raspberry, strawberry, cream cheese, chocolate, etc. They are so yummy. I look forward to king cake every Mardi Gras season now!