The Results

I've been on vacation ("Vacation from my PROBLEMS.") for the past week which gave you plenty of time to vote for your favorite in the Not-So-Pretty Face-Off.  It also gave Wendy plenty of time to campaign.  Whatever, dude.  In my opinion, one bad picture does not a bowzer make, but I suppose I have to call it.

With 51% of the vote, M.A.F.W. is the winner of The Face-Off!  Congratulations (?) Wendy, you are the bowzer in the bunch!  When she emailed me her winning picture, she also sent me three other pictures from her childhood just to assure me that she was super cute at some point.  As if I wasn't sure.  So,  here she is during her not-so-awkward years:

And here she is today:

I would like to thank Jen and Jeff for their worthy entries. 

Also thanks to my father for finding the picture I was talking about:

When Jeff and I were engaged he somehow got ahold of this picture.  When people would ask him what his fiance looked like, he'd show it to them.

The Not-So-Pretty Face-Off

Contestant Number One: MAFW

Some background about this picture from Wendy, herself:

"I was in the 4th grade and REALLY proud of the fact that I was wearing pantyhose with this dress...TO SCHOOL! I did my own hair.

While standing IN LINE for pictures, I took out a barrett and put the side up thinking it would look super glamorous, then I turned to the girl behind me and asked, "does it look okay?" She kind of nodded and said, "sure" When I got the pictures I was so horrified that I tried multiple times to throw them away. My mom would take them out of the trash and said, 'Sorry, you can't have retakes, This will build character.'

Nice mom. So here you go."

Contestant Number Two: Jen

There's no story here.  She just looked like that.

Contestant Number Three: Jeff

He requested that I enter this picture of him.  No lie.

Contestant Number Four: Me

The contest was to beat the picture in my earlier post, but I have worse.  I searched high and low for the real worst picture of me (lest you think my eighth grade school picture was just an isolated incident of ickiness.), but I can't seem to find it, anywhere.  It looks something like this:

Except my hair is bigger and frizzier in the real thing.  (Does anyone in my family know which picture I'm talking about?  Mom, if you find it will you send it to me?  I mean, Dad, if Mom finds it, will you send it to me?)

So, there you have it.  Cast your votes now for the winner IN THE SIDEBAR POLL.

Taking Care of Business

Yes, his eyes are blue.

Why do you ask, Pooping Dog?

Don't worry. I haven't forgotten about the Not-so-Pretty Face-Off. Some of you have sent me choice pictures and others of you are all talk. I will give you until Midnight on Wednesday to email me your pictures (meleemaxwell@gmail.com). Winner (me) gets a prize.

Let's Be Honest

Based on your extremely kind responses to my haircut post, I worry that I may have given you the impression that I spend my nights crying into my pillow about how ugly I am. I can assure you all that my self-esteem is perfectly healthy. Sometimes I feel great about myself, sometimes I don't, and sometimes I don't think about it. (That's healthy, right?)

To be honest, for the last seven years I have been living under the delusion that I look exactly like I did when I was 22 years old. In my mind, that's what I look like, so it always surprises me when I see pictures of myself and I look like a 30 year old mother of three. What the WHAT?

But, don't kid yourselves, folks. I was not an attractive kid.

Keep in mind that this is not some candid shot somebody took while I wasn't ready. This was school picture day. This was on purpose. This was me at my best.

I challenge, nay, DARE you to beat it. I declare this a Not-So-Pretty Face-Off. Email me your worst pictures at: meleemaxwell@gmail.com and we shall see who the bowzer in the bunch is. (Though I have a feeling I may already be a winner.) Game on!

Thank You Notes

(With apologies to Jimmy Fallon.)

Thank you, Flat Tire on my SUV, for giving me the opportunity to see just how great of a friend Elise is.  It turns out she will drive in the pouring rain to pick up my son and take him to school.

Thank you, The Flu, for taking your sweet time passing through our entire family. It's cool. I got no place to be.

Thank you, Flooded Basement, for proving our landlord wrong when he said, "This basement doesn't flood."  Way to stick it to the man, Flooded Basement.  P.S. Thanks for reminding me how much junk I save.  I totally needed that moment of self-discovery.

Thank you, Flat Tire on Jeff's Car, because the SUV was feeling left out. 

Thank you, Emily, for this video:



Thank you, Carport, for being the perfect size for a Mini Coop and, therefore, not perfect for my SUV. Who doesn't love a good "I crashed my car in my carport" story? That bumper was looking so last year, anyway.

Thank you, Autobody shop, for giving me chance to, once again, test the limits of Elise's friendship. It turns out she will pick my family up and take us home even when she's having a crappy day herself.

Thank you, Bon Jovi, for being awesome.

Thank you, Geico, for insisting that I take my car to another autobody shop. Cramming our family into Jeff's tiny car after everyone's bedtime and searching all night for your key box was just the family togetherness we needed.

Thank you, T.V., for all your loyal years of service. I hope you enjoy T.V. Heaven whilst I cancel my cable and Tivo subscriptions. Now we can be one of those "T.V.? What's that? We like to spend time together" family's.

Thank you, The Past Month, for the kick in the pants. You are officially the winner.

Fairy Tale Tea Party

We celebrated Chloe's fourth birthday last weekend.  As I was searching the area for something fun to do (to do, to do) I found out that The Magic House has an annual Fairy Tale Tea Party with Cinderella and it just happened to fall on her birthday.  Bonus!

They served all the girls apple juice (with lots of sugar cubes) and baked goods. Cinderella, The Fairy Godmother, and Prince Charming put on a short play and then they went around to each table signing autographs and taking pictures. Chloe was so nervous about meeting the real Cinderella. "She's just too pretty, Mommy."

(Observe my forsight: I bought that Cinderella dress on clearance the day before I found out about the tea party  Nice.)

After tea we broke into Cinderella's "own little corner" and took some pictures.

Then Chloe got right to work fixing this car.

Being Four is AWESOME!  (Aren't those glass balloon sculptures the coolest?)

She enjoyed all of her cards and gifts from her family.  Jeff's mom sent her four princess crowns and she opened a different one up until the day of her birthday.  This was the one I saved for her actual birthday:

You can't tell, but she's wearing two princess dresses at once.  She wore them both over her pajamas to sleep that night. 

I must confess that I don't understand boys.  They are super fun, but a big mystery to me.  I really "get" Chloe and am grateful that she has brought balance to the force in our family. 

Hungry Man

Harrison's First Meal

Chloe's First Meal

Miles' First Meal

Miles after his first meal.

It's not your imagination.  He is twice as big as they are.  What's that about?

They had better enjoy this while they can.  Soon he will be able to sit on them both.

My One Beauty

Inspired by Sally's experience finding a wig that made her feel like herself and Catie's experiences with the kids at St. Judes, I decided I wanted to cut off my hair and donate it to Locks of Love.  I went to their website and read that donations must be at least 10 inches long and in a ponytail.  I measured my hair and found I barely had 10 inches in a ponytail.  I knew this was something I wanted to do but was nervous about having my hair shorter than it's ever been.  I think it's because at some point in my thirty years of life I got it into my head that my hair was my one beauty.

I have five sisters who are all very pretty.  My dad used to frequently brag that there wasn't "a bowzer in the bunch."  Whenever he did, I always felt people were staring at me thinking, "Except that giant redhead with the huge glasses and bad skin.  Where the heck'd she come from?"  The only thing people ever complimented me on when I was younger was my red hair.  I realized I wasn't going to get anywhere with my looks, so I'd better develop a personality.

When I started acting, every director and costumer I worked with insisted that I never cut my hair.  When I'd tell friends I wanted to cut my hair, they would give me a sing-songy,  "Ooooooohhkayyyyyy"   I even had a hair stylist refuse to cut it short.  What I heard them all saying was "Your hair is your one beauty and if you cut it off then people will see what you really look like and nobody wants that."  I always admired my friends with short hair. 

Well I did it anyway.  I cut my hair and here's what I know now: while my hair is certainly one of my better features, it's not my one beauty.  Short hair is fun and it makes me feel sassy.  It makes me look older, but in a good way.  Jeff will still love me with short hair.  People will still compliment me on my red hair, even if it's short.  It's not me.  It's a part of me.  Without it, I would still be me.

I imagine I must seem like a complete wimp to Sally and Catie.  It is, after all, just hair.  I like that Sally said that losing her hair was a good thing because it meant that she was on the road to healing.  I will also admit that I never noticed what an amazing smile Catie has until she lost her hair.  I wish them both well and hope that they know how beautiful they are to me.

Where's Mitch?

That's the question I answered every ten minutes this past week.  Jeff's cousin Mitch came to St. Louis for a couple of med school interviews and he stayed with us. 

This picture is not posed.  This is exactly how much personal space the kids gave him while he was here.  (He's creating our Monster Mash video in this picture.  Thanks, man!)  It was so fun having him here for Halloween weekend.  Yesterday Chloe was eating lunch and I heard her whisper to her sandwich, "Me and Mitch are best friends forever."

(Photo by Mitch's BFF Chloe)

Trick or Treat

Kids make so many things better. Halloween is definitely one of those things for me.

Anakin Skywalker (The Clone War years)

Our kids have been waiting for this day all year.  Harrison couldn't decide which of the many Star Wars characters he wanted to be.  He finally decided on non-evil Anakin Skywalker. 

That mask kind of freaks me out.  He had a costume parade at his school which was fun.  (That's a lie.  It started a half hour late and his class was the last to come through the gym.  While the other classes would walk through slowly and pause for pictures, his class came running through so fast I was only able to take two blurry pictures.  Stupid costume parade.)

One of the Halloween traditions in the area is that when you go to someone's house trick-or-treating sometimes they'll ask you to tell them a joke.  Here's Harrison's:

H: Knock!  Knock!

P: Who's there?

H: Justin.

P: Justin who?

H: Justin time for candy!

Chloe has worn her fairy costume approximately 4,789,432,637,219 times since I made it.  As her wardrobe supervisor, I find that very satisfying.

Chloe had two trick-or-treating jokes.  Here's the first:

C: Knock!  Knock!

P: Who's there?

C: Boo!

P: Boo who?

C: Don't cry little baby.

This next one she made up herself:

C: Why did the cat cross the road?

P: Why?

C: Because it had to go potty.

Harrison froze at one house and couldn't think of his own joke, so he told Chloe's cat joke.  He got a confused look.  Rough crowd.

Miles is a chest x-ray.  At least, he would have been if someone who happens to be a radiologist had agreed to wear a white coat and take a picture with the little baby. 

This is how much fun Halloween is if you can't eat candy.

Happy Halloween!

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!