I've had an instagram account for about a year, but until yesterday I had only been following Gage's first grade teacher's private classroom account. Due to the persuasion from a couple particular people, I have decided to give it a try. So, should you feel compelled to see whatever random pictures I find endearing, you can follow me here. I am still getting the feel for it, but so far I can't understand what is so amazing. Like, I don't understand these people who post pictures every five minutes. Maybe I'll change my tune with time. #doubtit

What you WILL NOT find on my instagram feed:
*Pictures of food (unless for some reason it makes me laugh/looks disgusting)
*Numerous pictures of my children
*An abnormal amount of selfies. Actually...don't count on many selfies at all unless they are self-deprecating.

What you WILL find on my instagram feed:
*Unicorn pictures. I have been slacking off. Francis is tired of chilling in my closet and wants to come back out and play.
*Pictures of things that make me laugh like a maniac. This is a pretty broad spectrum. I never know what might make me laugh at any given time.
*Hashtags that make no sense. Because Peppy and I have a joke where we sometimes speak in hashtags.

If you have a weird account name (you know, if it's not your actual name) let me know who you are so I can add you too. I'm still so confused though. So be patient with me. I'm #soold.


a hawaiian luau and mining in a cave


What a month. Only two weeks in, and I feel like I haven't sat down at all. A few highlights:

*Gage finally lost his first tooth! Unfortunately it was in his sleep and he swallowed it. He was spending the night with my parents, and in the morning he wanted my mom to give Owsley a strip search because he was certain his brother had stolen it.

*My vision is 20/20. Yes! The first camping trip without having to worry over glasses was pretty amazing.

*I turned 30. It was not this big deal everyone seems to make it. It's a number. Whatever '30' is supposed to mean...I just don't feel it. My mom surprised me with a luau themed party. She usually decorates with streamers and balloons, but when I walked it the entire breakfast nook and dining room were decorated with everything Hawaiian.

*The first weekend of July, Granny, Poppy, Peppy's aunt and his sister came and stayed with us. Granny and Poppy generously gifted us with a six acre wooded lot that is practically across the street from my parents. My entire teenage life was spent despising my hometown and swearing I would immediately run as soon as I graduated. But now I am glad that our homestead will be close to family. Plus, Southern Living claims Elkmont, Alabama could very well be the next Marfa. Honestly, I can never see that happening, but it's kind of fun to think about. The first time I saw a documentary on Marfa, Texas I really wanted to move there. So when we're not RV-ing it up, we'll be even closer to family.

*Gage celebrated his 7th birthday. On his actual birthday the two of us toured Cathedral Caverns, which is the 3rd largest cave in the US. And then we had his family party with a mining theme. He's been really into geology lately.

And now for some overdue party pictures.

in which i ramble incessantly


My mom took me out for an early 30th birthday celebration. Which meant I got to drive ALONE to meet her. I had forgotten  how much I love being alone in my car, listening to what I want (no matter how random) as loud as I want. Unchained Melody was totally engineered to be listened to with all sub-woofers on high level input. Don't believe me? Give it a try.

Gotta stop livin' in my head, livin' in my head. Livin' in my head, livin' in my head. (I was actually singing that in my head, although that particular ditty doesn't have much promise.) I feel like what God gave me as my greatest talent (my imagination) is also my worst enemy. I have to find a productive way to channel all the things going on in my head, instead of just living in it. There have been particularly stressful times in my life where I get completely sucked up in my fantasy worlds. Even though I can draw a line between reality and fantasy, the fantasy world seems so real to me that it can hurt when I face the facts that it will never exist outside of my brain. I don't care how crazy I sound, but I get so invested in the people that live in my mind. I have lived out one particular scenario for over ten years. Ten years!?

Last week I moved some of the pieces around and seemed to form a pretty interesting story line. So while the boys were in the pool I took out a notebook and pen, and began to write. Yes, I could have typed, but I feel like handwriting is a dying skill. I wrote about two pages when Gage came over and asked what I was doing. He immediately wanted to know what my story was about. And then he wanted me to help him write a story, which we did. It was about monsters with claws that bit off Owsley's head. At the very slow rate that it's going, I have a feeling that my story will be a large labor of love.

I need to go all Thoreau, and chill in the woods for a while. Note to self: If you ever do find yourself alone in the woods, stay away from the mushrooms. Seriously, Deanna. Tripping alone in the woods is only sure to further aid in your insanity. Bet I could write one heck of a memoir though. I can see it now. Here I am, obviously wearing the unicorn mask, frolicking around the woods, licking random hallucinogenic plants. The skies are opening up. Something reaches out and shakes me like a martini mixer. The elusive sheepsquatch watches from the depths of the forest. Unbeknownst to me, he has intentions of taking me back to his cave and making me his bride. I'm crying while listening to Madonna's cover of American Pie, because who is she to think she could make a decent cover. Who does she think she is?? (The previous two sentences are loosely based on an actual event.) I look down and suddenly all of my freckles have turned into ticks. I run madly from the woods and am immediately struck down by someone texting and driving. (Just to make it ironic, the driver would be Peppy.)

Yeaaahh...growing up I always said I shouldn't do drugs because my mind is already pretty wild.

I heard that Wiggle, Wiggle song for the first time in Goodwill earlier this week. I can only assume that I'm late to the game and that it's a pretty popular song right now. Gage thought it was pretty vulgar, which was surprising to me because he and Owsley love making up songs about farts. I told Gage there were similar songs growing up (Baby Got Back, Thong song.) Same song, different decade. Isn't everything always repeating itself anyway?

Wow. What a post. Just to end it all on a little pallet cleanser, here is my current favorite hooping song. Unfortunately none of their other songs are all that snazzy. Also, for the record, my mental status is 100% sound in this post, as is my sobriety. Just thought I might need to make that clear.

total knockout


Earlier this week my friend and her daughter came over. My friend marveled at how buck wild her kid gets when she is around my boys, and I mentioned how surprised I was that in almost seven years we hadn't had a single ER visit.

(Can you see where this post is going? Spoiler alert: Everything turned out ok.)

The very next day we were supposed to go to a picnic, and I was in charge of sandwich stuff. List in hand, I told the boys to prepare for the world's fastest Wal-mart run. They were really good until the last couple of minutes. The walk to the checkout turned out to be a test to my patience. Owsley was standing on the back of the cart, swapping slaps with Gage who would bounce from side to side. They were getting louder and wilder the closer we got to checkout.

I get to the self checkout and begin to scan my items. While dodging from Gage, Owsley falls off the cart and hits his head on the metal bottom of the checkout. He begins to scream and my immediate thought is frustration. It was one of those moments when it annoys me that I have to feel sympathy for my kids when they were doing something that I have repeatedly asked them not to do. (See also: jumping off the picnic table onto the trampoline and purposely rolling down the stairs.)

I scooped Owsley up and continued scanning my items so that we can get out of the store ASAP.

But then he falls backwards, goes limp in my arms, and his eyes roll into the back of his head.

"Owsley? Owsley?....OWSLEY?"

He remained unconscious for only a couple of seconds, but really, it could have been an hour to me. Fifty pounds of limp child in my arms, and Gage thought we were playing some kind of joke on him. (Normally this would have been something that made me cry. Like one of those events where I have no control over the amount of tears flowing from my face and I can't even speak because I know I'll start crying no matter what I say. But I held it together. It definitely had to be the magnesium. Super mineral.)

I looked up and noticed a crowd gathered around us, and a very worried employee offers to call an ambulance. By this time Owsley was awake and hiding into my shoulder. I can only imagine what it would be like to open your eyes to a bunch of strangers.

I called Peppy and there happened to be an EMT in his store at the time who said I should take Owsley to the ER. I had also called his pediatrician who returned my call as I was parking at the ER, and the doctor was able to see him, saving us a (thankfully unneeded) cat scan.

The concussion test is fairly similar to a field sobriety test. Owsley had to stand on one foot and walk in a straight line. I was given a list of things to watch out for, including strange behavior. Have you met my child, or most three year olds for that matter? Strange behavior seems to go hand in hand.

Whew. And I know some people who have kids wilder than mine. It's a wonder I'm not completely grey. The boys were calm for about an hour after we got home, but they waited until the moment I went upstairs to change clothes and turned over the recliner. I guess if Owsley would have remained calm for the rest of the day I would have really had to worry about the strange behavior the doctor talked about.

zillow and the dairy queen

Zillow and the Dairy Queen would be a fun name for a band, eh? Along the lines of Echo and the Bunnymen or Josie and the Pussycats. And most recently I saw a band called Catfish and the Bottlemen.

I had never heard of Zillow until about a month ago. And now I have found myself sucked into a wormhole that I am having trouble climbing back out of. You enter a location and a map pops up with all the combined property listings from the realty sites. Think Kayak for real estate. (I think Kayak is the one that combines all the travel stuff.)

We have found some of the most unique homes for sale through Zillow. It's lots of fun to look at places that are totally out of our price range, especially when they have uploaded pictures of every room. I love looking at houses.

Last week we checked out a home that had been converted from an old dairy barn. So cool.
This could be my castle and I could be the Dairy Queen.

The dairy house is 3/4 finished, so it would take a little TLC to finish up. (Although with the home and 8 acres it's still in our price range.) Plus, the backyard has this awesome little passageway that reminds me a little of The Secret Garden. The kids loved the passageway. I did have to forcefully rip a tick from Owsley's neck afterwards, though. Ah, it brought back many memories of the thorough tick searches my mom would perform on me and my brothers before bedtime each night. The dairy barn had a bunch of positives and a couple negatives that we have to consider, but it's definitely on the list of potential properties.

Last night Peppy showed me the link for this log cabin, aka my dream home.
If we were not planning on our RV adventures, and were looking to purchase a home...this house would be it. The end. Case closed. This is the kind of home I've always dreamed of living in. Unfortunately it's almost twice the price of the dairy barn and probably not in the cards for us right now. But that doesn't mean I still can't love it. (And yes, Alabama is a pretty cheap place to live. If you give up your fancy cities and settle for the country, you can get more bang for your buck.)

Be warned about Zillow really is opening Pandora's box. An entire afternoon can easily be wasted away, dreaming about potential properties.

On an unrelated note, a few of you asked about taking magnesium. I take two 250 mg tablets a day, first thing in the morning. I can take mine on an empty stomach, but Peppy has to take his with a meal or else he'll get nauseous.

magnesium saved my life


All right, my title might be a bit of a hyperbole. But magnesium does seem to save me from myself.

Our ten hour car ride to Florida was right in the middle of 'bitch week,' as Peppy and I so lovingly refer to it. (I don't throw out profanity for the fun of it. I just don't think I can pick of a more fitting word. Plus, I'm talking about myself.) The week before my period always gives me this Jekyll/Hyde effect. I've talked about it in more depth here. I am typically a calm, easy going person, but right before my period I am plagued with intense migraines and I become, for lack of a better term, a flat out bitch. It is hard for me because I honestly feel like I have no control. If it were a realistic option, I would lock myself in a room for five days. I get so irritable and angry at the drop of a hat. I know it's not my kids. I know it's not Peppy. It's me. I warn them to stay away. It is such an internal struggle because I feel like for one week out of the month I am a completely different person, and I hate the other person that tries to break free. And at the same time, I don't want drugs. Well, ok. That's a lie. Sometimes I would really like some drugs. I just don't want to depend on them to feel good.

I was messing around on my phone, looking for natural migraine cures and stumbled upon an article on the benefits of magnesium. Apparently magnesium deficiency and menstrual migraines/extreme PMS symptoms go hand-in-hand. Here is a great article on the benefits of magnesium as well as a laundry list of symptoms that could be related to a deficiency. I read another article by a gynecologist (that I couldn't find when I started typing this post.) She said that when a patient comes in with any ailments related to her period, the first thing she does is a magnesium deficiency test.

I've been taking magnesium supplements for a month now. My migraines have all but diminished. And on the days where they would normally have been debilitating, they are nothing more than an aggravating buzz that can be nipped in the bud by a couple aspirin and an icy hot patch. This is pretty awesome to me, as I've always dealt with minor headaches since childhood.
I would much rather deal with this minor head patch, as opposed to avoiding sunlight with an ice pack on my head, all while wanting to murder someone and feeling like my eyes are ready to burst out of their sockets.

I've always loved to sleep, but now I actually feel rested with 7 hours. I even wake up before the alarm clock goes off.

The biggest change has definitely been with my hormones. I am not an emotional wreck. Now, I am an emotional person by nature, but I knew something was wacky when the Dinosaur Train theme song made me tear up. Bitch week is gone. This is a big one for me. I feel like as I get older, my body has more susceptible to every stereotypical sign of PMS. My period even crept up on me this month because I didn't get my typical migraines or insane irritability. Along the same lines, I didn't have any cramping to accompany my period either. I didn't have my overboard cravings of chocolate and salty stuff either.

After taking magnesium for two weeks, I told Peppy I just felt....better. I wasn't unhappy to begin with, but I did feel like my body was a little off kilter. I feel well rested, I have more energy, and I know I've had abnormal patience with my kids so far this summer. So Peppy started taking it too. Last week he was even telling my mom how good he feels, how much better he's sleeping, and how he doesn't let the trivial stuff at work get to him. I've noticed a huge change in both our attitudes. It might be a placebo effect, but I really don't think so. I feel like I'm pretty in tune with my body, and right now I just feel good. 

I'm no witch doctor, but I do believe there are so many natural cures available. And I would much rather take something that occurs in nature, as opposed to a drug chemically engineered in a lab. Do you have your go-to super vitamin or mineral?
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