Aided by the Gator

If a love for a certain beverage makes one a Gator, I will soon need to start writing checks to the University of Florida. You see, a week of stomach stress has left my poor little guy a Gatorade addict. It all started innocently enough. We were battling dehydration and I asked the pediatrician if I should give him Pedialyte. The doc said (and I quote), "Have you ever had that stuff! It's gross! He's old enough for Gatorade." All righty then. I won't be testing that out. For the record, I did not try a single baby food that I fed Jackson. Not one. The potential for retching in front of him when the strained peas passed my lips was far worse than the thought that I haven't previewed every morsel he's ever consumed. But I'm not sure Gatorade is any better. USA Today gives this little history on Gatorade development:

"In 1965, Florida researchers, led by Robert Cade, after studying sweat to see what nutrients the body lost during athletic activity, created a fluid to replace them. The researchers convinced the Florida football team to use it, but they could not interest their own school in marketing the new-fangled concoction, and couldn't find a anyone else until Stokely Van Camp began producing it in 1967."

Yeah, I think I'm going to pass on that marketing angle as well. "Gatorade. This is what your sweat tastes like."

Regardless, Jackson LOVES the Gatorade. So we gave it to him instead of milk all last week. This afternoon, his stomach completely recovered (mostly because he gave the nasty bug to me!), he ripped open the fridge with super-human strength so that he could show me that his beverage of choice was in there. And there were to be no substitutions. I was becoming concerned that he would stage a sit-in right there in the kitchen. He won that round. However, he was later tricked into drinking the moo juice because there was a straw option.

Oh, and he prefers the BLUE Gatorade. Surely it's because RED and BLACK RAIDERADE is not available!


Madness of the Residential Kind

Poor, poor blog. How I have neglected you. Honestly, these days, more often than not, I am looking at my calendar and wondering where the time has gone. For today, I thought I would fill you in on where January went.

Last month, Tiffany pointed out that it looked like we were doing some remodeling. Well . . . not exactly. Ever since Jonathan and I have had cable television, we have watched a lot of HGTV (mostly when I had custody of the remote). I was completely captivated by the transformations people were able to make to their homes. Jonathan was more than a little inspired by the power of incorporating real estate in one's investment portfolio. And once the house-flipping show genre came on the scene, we were constantly saying, "We can do it better." I was saying that from the comfort of my couch, probably wearing sweats. My beloved, on the other hand, was quite serious.

And so in November everything fell into place and Jonathan bought a house of his very own. And the marathon of remodeling began. The house was built in the early 80s and it enjoyed every decorating trend of that stylish period. Floral wallpaper, intercoms in every room, saloon doors in the master bath, Aggie maroon toilet/shower/countertop, a Red Raider wet bar, and the most evil wall-to-wall wood paneling man has ever known. We painted every square inch of that house. And we did it as a family (me, Jonathan, his mom and dad, and one crazy two year old). It was pure madness.

But in the end, that house looks great. I am so proud of all the hard work Jonathan put into it, and I am even more proud of him for turning our couch potato conversations into a reality. Oh, and just so you don't think I am boasting without evidence, the house was under contract after 6 days on the market!!!

There is but one issue left one the table - how do I get this paint out of my hair?

Below is the AMAZING transformation. Enjoy.