Man Hands

Yes, my name is Essie Why, and I have "man hands."  The Urban Dictionary defines "man hands" as a way to describe a woman's hands when they are "less than feminine" or large and very masculine. 

I recently moved to a new building at work and wanted to take a quick break.  I went to the vending machine to buy a pop and return to my office to finish up some projects.  I should have stopped right there.  I don't really like bottled or canned pop--I'm a fountain pop kind of girl--but sometimes you just need to get away from your desk and get your mind off work.  Anyway--this building only sells bottles and the Diet Coke I wanted was on the very top shelf of the machine.  As soon as I pressed the button to purchase the pop, it "free-falls" for what seemed like five stories before coming to rest in the bottom of the machine.  While I'm reaching my man hand in to retrieve the pop I'm thinking I'm going to need to let that sit for awhile before I spray my coworkers like it's Game 7 of the NBA championship and I'm on the winning team.  Quickly my mind caught up with my body and wondered why my hand seemed to be stuck in the machine.  After what seemed like a five minute struggle (which probably really only lasted ten seconds) my claw was freed and I had my Diet Coke in hand.  Sweet success!

Of course I had to google "man hands" and found that I am not alone. 

Fergie has man hands like me!

So does Uma!

Tina's are fake and thank goodness mine are not like that.
It looks like she has a long-sleeved sweater on too.  Blechh!

There's No Such Thing As Too Much Hand Sanitizer

Once again (just like everyone else on this planet), we had a busy, yet fun-filled weekend.  The weather has been absolutely gorgeous so it's been nice to spend some time outside.  We borrowed an idea from the cousins and decided to head to the zoo today.  Although I've purchased a zoo pass every year we've lived here, I personally had not gone to the zoo for a couple of years.  If you haven't been to the Henry Doorly Zoo lately--run, don't walk--you need to visit it!  It is truly world-class.  Even though it was jam-packed with holiday visitors, we still had a good time. 

One of the kids' favorite exhibits is the "budgie experience".  I'm not a bird lover by any stretch of the imagination so it takes a lot for me to muster up the courage to step inside.  Ick--birds swooping all around you--not my cup of tea.  Inside the "cage" (which is about the size of my family room), 50 kids are trying to feed about 500 birds with a birdseed "stick".  This is happening while you also have children who have apparently been fed ice cream, candy and pop before entering the cage who are running around stirring the birds up.  Thankfully no birds landed on me during my time in the cage and you can bet I was all over the hand sanitizer like a crazed Kate Gosselin after we exited the cage and after we visited the petting zoo and after we saw the butterfly pavilion and...  Here are a few highlights from today.

Kris' best impression of Ozzy Osborne???

You never know what you have until...

...you clean your room (or your office, in my case).  When I haven't been staring at the new wall I painted in my house a couple of weeks ago, I've been busy sorting my office belongings and purging, purging, purging.  Earlier this week my office moved to a new location.  I do like change and there's nothing like a good spring clean.  Some of the treasures I found during this process were three rubber snakes!?!; a few documents from 2007 which are seemingly no longer important, but drove me crazy looking for them at the time; fifty-three pens (31 black/18 blue/3 red/1 green); twelve black Sharpies; and enough post-its to leave a trail from here to WR.  I'll use the office supplies, but being one who hates to waste anything, I need to figure out what do to with the rubber snakes.  Hopefully I'll find a home for them before I perish from the hantavirus* I contracted from the old storage bins and boxes I sorted through before the move.

*I did not contract hantavirus during the move, but I feel like I inhaled enough dust and "yuck" during this process to justify a mention.

My Favorite Color Is...

For the past 18 months (yes, 18 months), I've been thinking about painting some accent colors in the house on the main floor.  Before we moved in, the entire house was painted a nice khaki color.  I am a total "tan" kind of girl, but I was starting to get a little tired of it.  Besides, I love to paint and see the transformation that occurs.  I guess you could say it's my zen.  Anyway, one of my (many) fatal flaws is that I cannot make a decision about color or decorating or anything of that sort.  I am a domestic diva wannabe and really admire those who have an eye for color.  So after months of looking at paint swatches, getting the opinions of a sister-in-law, a neighbor, and the guy who works at the paint counter at Home Depot, my new favorite color was found.  The paint swatch is called "Borough".  I had looked at Sandstone and Fig and Cashmere and Barnwood, but Borough made the cut.  I can't even begin to describe it--it's like mocha mixed with pewter with a hint of steely purple in a haze of twilight. 

My blah khaki wall



Borough = fabulousness on my accent wall

I loved it so much I proceeded to use it in my dining room too.  Right now I love it, love it, love it. I hope in a few months I don't hate it, hate it, hate it.  My photos definitely do not do it justice.  If you're ever in the neighborhood, stop by.  I'll probably ask you if I should hang this picture there...or if that rug works in this room...but whatever you do, please don't touch my walls!





Baseball, Bowling & A Birthday Party

This weekend we had lots to celebrate.  On Saturday Matthew played in an all-star baseball tournament in Omaha with other little dudes (er...I mean all-stars) from across the state.  It was quite an honor for him to make the team and we were proud of Matthew.  We finally had a break in the weather so it wasn't too bad outside to catch a game.  Nobody can refute the fact that the Whys are fair-weather baseball fans.  At first the girls were kind of into it, but their interest quickly waned about an hour into the game.  Matthew's fan club kind of fell by the wayside when it started to heat up outside.

C&P totally engrossed...
in their IPODs.

About an hour into into the game, C decided to take a break after complaining of being thristy, tired, sick...basically any excuse under the sun she could use so we could go home.

To round out the weekend, we had a bowling birthday party for ME!  I think everyone had a pretty good time.  Even Maddie rolled a few balls down the lane.  I can't remember the last time I've been bowling so it was kind of fun to try it again.  I think Tim is going to join the pro-bowling circuit.  She busted out a 180+ on her first game!!  My range is typically around 30 (yes, it's really that bad) to 60 (no joke, I'm really that bad).

The bowling crew.

Giving You The Shirt Off My Back

As if I hadn't spent enough time outside on Friday for the company event, I thought it might be fun to have a picnic with the Whys and Kays on Saturday evening.  Our destination was a large park with huge play structures for the children.  The weather seemed to have cooled off a little so I didn't think it would be too bad.  As we drove up to the picnic rendezvous spot, I spied something with my little eye.  It appeared that Dustin was going to be picnicking with us sans shirt. 

Now I know we all have our little quirks--a few of mine happen to be the smell of Fritos and Cheerios (I seriously feel like I'm going into anaphylactic shock {I'm being a bit dramatic} when I get a whiff of them), maple syrup (I can't stand the stickiness), walking down the pet food aisle at the grocery store (the smell is overwhelming), and grown men in tank tops (only excusable if said grown men are playing basketball).

Not knowing what was going on, I asked the kids not to say anything because I didn't know if Dustin was just feeling hot and felt he had to take his shirt off  to feel cooler because of the weather or if he had misunderstood my invitation and thought I might have said "let's have a redneck picnic" rather than "let's have a picnic."  Of course, as soon as we got out of the car, my unfiltered mouth yells out, "No shirt, no shoes, no service!  Put a shirt on, for heaven's sake, this is West Omaha!" 

I quickly learned that Dusty's nude-i-ness was due to Baby Emm getting sick all over Tim's shirt upon arrival at the picnic.  Being ever so gallant for his lovely bride, Dusty decided to disrobe and literally give his lady the shirt off his back so they could stay for the picnic because her shirt was destroyed.  After a lot of jokes and teasing and even commenting that the players in the nearby soccer match weren't even playing "shirts and skins," Kris decided to take his shirt off too so Dusty wouldn't feel so self-conscious.  At that point we called it a night and bid everyone a fond farewell.  The picnic was officially over.  I'd had more than I could (love) handle(s).

Sorry guys...here it is...

Awesomesauce

"Awesomesauce" has been a buzzword of Peyton's lately.  The past couple of weeks have been extremely exhausting.  It's been busy at work and we've been suffering through a massive heatwave.  It feels like we've been marinating for days in a giant crockpot set on high.  For those who can relate, Friday seemed like the hottest, smelliest, worst-day-ever kind of detasseling hot that you can remember.  On a positive note, our A/C has been awesomesauce throughout this heatwave.

Last night we attended a company BBQ and baseball game which was somewhat of a bookend to my hectic schedule in July.  I figure if I can plan a party for 800--everything else is easy-peasy.  Everything went smoothly and nobody succumbed to the heat (that I know of).  My duties were finished and the Whys were taking a stroll on the Werner Park concourse to get some air.  After stopping for a smoothie, some Dippin' Dots, and a lemon ice, Peyton announced, "There are some sauces down there."  On the concourse there are many food vendors with gigantic bottles of ketchup, mustard, and other sauces set up in self-serve stations.  I thought she was referring to one of those stations.  Because I couldn't drum up the energy to even respond to her comment other than give her a tired smile, she said it again and asked me to come to the edge of the deck.  Lo, and behold, there were some sauces down there.

The sauces were getting ready to race on the field between innings.  The winning sauce was "hot"--for those who were wondering--and won a combo meal for everyone in Section 103 at the ballpark.  Awesomesauce!