tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58689593258682422982011-07-07T20:13:16.735-04:00Pitfalls and Pleasantries in the City of Pleasant LivingShelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.comBlogger171100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-81455259459784399062011-02-20T16:29:00.001-05:002011-02-20T16:31:02.801-05:00

It may be February, but it’s still Christmastime in the Starlet household. An innocuous gift of “Frosty the Snowman” means that Mr. Starlet now has competition for Punk’s undying affections. “Frosty the Snowman” never sees the inside of its case. At any given moment, Mr. Starlet can recite the next line or two or five. His favorite describes Frosty as “the best belly whopper in the world,”

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-13124262056789873782011-02-12T22:08:00.001-05:002011-02-12T22:10:51.688-05:00

When Punk was born, we asked the nurse if she would eventually grow eyebrows. When at two months old she wasn't playing with her toys, we were concerned that she was developmentally delayed. First time parents are remarkably naiive. And the sad thing is that you're not aware of how naiive you were until you have a second child. Poor Poopalina. Our standards for ourselves as parents are so much

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-7645667136683717592011-02-09T21:22:00.001-05:002011-02-12T21:15:42.282-05:00

I'm officially not accepting calls on Tuesday nights anymore. Not since I discovered "One Born Every Minute," a Lifetime reality show documenting real labors and deliveries at Riverside Methodist Hospital. Cleverly, Lifetime installed 40 ceiling-mounted cameras in the labor and delivery ward. Each camera has the ability to rotate 360 degrees, giving viewers a first-row seat for each of these

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-15778451494119653792011-01-18T22:06:00.001-05:002011-01-18T22:06:45.289-05:00

Right now, my jeans and I are playing tug-of-war over my hips. I could blame Poopalina. But the reality is that I'm genetically predisposed to a chocolate addiction. Read, I'm genetically predisposed to wearing my chocolate addiction. On my hips, thighs, stomach, and...well, everywhere. It's just fluff. A little extra padding. More to love, right? And as I find myself in the kitchen more and

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-63224085284678477272011-01-12T22:38:00.001-05:002011-01-17T02:06:11.063-05:00

Because two days after my last entry, I found out I was pregnant. Because five seconds later, Mr. Starlet and I were hanging our heads over the toilet (albeit for slightly different reasons). Because we didn’t know how easy we had it when Punk couldn’t walk or talk. Because now that she can, we can’t sit or think. Because our newest tried to make her debut several months early. Then several

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-1278214662425672922009-10-17T08:39:00.003-04:002009-10-17T08:46:18.170-04:00

Mr. Starlet loves Halloween. Almost as much as corndogs. In the Starlet household, that’s saying something.Naturally, Mr. Starlet was a little dismayed when I informed him that we would not be dressing in costume this year in deference to Punk’s sensibilities and yet undamaged psyche. No black cape. No face paint. No fangs. No scary utterances. No blood-stained battle ax. No plastic Uzi. No

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-36360299828673526262009-10-13T14:07:00.004-04:002009-10-13T22:24:11.594-04:00

Mr. Starlet and I have almost always found the "City of Pleasant Living" to live up to its name, save for some unique culinary preferences that have on at least one occasion forced us to prematurely flee a restaurant. (Trust me, it was necessary in a "Stand By Me" pie-eating contest kind of way.)While we've developed quite an affinity for homemade sweet potato fries, hush puppies, cornbread, and

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-47519632005981784232009-10-12T19:33:00.007-04:002009-10-12T20:34:57.515-04:00

Sadly, Punk is still sick. So while I attempt to scrub off the dried snot on my chest, shoulders, and arms, here are more images of the stunning efforts of the Foothills Quilters Guild (FQG).The show was much larger than it was in 2007, with quilts of all sizes, designs, and colors truly filling the entirety of the Cleveland County Arts Council. And while I wasn't the only one there with a camera

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-62896414838707323932009-10-10T09:26:00.011-04:002009-10-13T14:06:53.463-04:00

When Monday saw me hiding behind a colleague’s large coif to avoid Shelby’s finest reporters instead of peacefully devouring a day-old sandwich while flipping through a well-worn Robin Maxwell novel in the darkened recess that is my office, I knew I had an hour coming to me.I knew few better ways to spend it than at the Cleveland County Arts Council, viewing the Foothills Quilters Guild quilt

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-39711536285447089602009-10-09T19:48:00.007-04:002009-10-09T20:12:42.121-04:00

Long ago, I discovered that motherhood is walking a fine line between two camps of thought: “Knowledge is power,” and “Ignorance is bliss.” For this very reason, a mother invented the 10-Second Rule and all enthusiastically subscribe to it.While we know that a fallen pacifier is less clean than it was seconds earlier, we don’t know that it fell into a cesspool of salmonella exactly. And if it did

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-34623594635502289672009-09-27T00:25:00.004-04:002009-09-27T00:31:19.779-04:00

When asked to name the five things they’d save in a house fire, most people include pictures, people, and pets. But why doesn’t anyone say, “the house”? After all, the question doesn’t imply that the house is ill-fated, just on fire.But for foodies like me, a more intriguing twist on this thought-provoker would be, “What five things would you save in a kitchen fire?”Major appliances are out. As

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-74449886332137707292009-09-14T11:28:00.005-04:002009-09-14T11:34:55.015-04:00

Moments in which I’ve felt like a domestic diva are few and far between.I’m only mildly embarrassed when a visiting friend’s toddler picks up a dust bunny from the kitchen floor and asks her mother with great concern to identify the strange object. And green, gelatinous sludge from the avocado pie that went to rot in the garage refrigerator made the move with us.However, there are some glorious

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-68596741382421270792009-09-11T17:04:00.003-04:002009-09-11T17:11:41.997-04:00

Few inanimate objects make me as giddy at my KitchenAid mixer. I coveted it for years. I publicly and frequently swore that if Mr. Starlet and I were to ever become engaged, a KitchenAid mixer would be the first item added to our registry. We did. It was.But the obsession didn’t end there. Oh no.When Mr. Starlet and I prepared to buy our first home in Shelby, I critiqued every house we toured

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-76788308263125522882009-09-10T20:35:00.002-04:002009-09-10T20:40:38.083-04:00

When Mr. Starlet decided that he could not palette ice cream for dessert for the umpteenth day in a row, he asked for cookies. Normally, this request would send me gleefully running to the kitchen.This particular evening, however, I turned the tables on him. If he wanted cookies, he had to make them. I had a promise to fulfill within the next 12 hours, most of which I intended to spend sleeping.A

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-38264287203457744152009-09-04T22:25:00.007-04:002009-09-06T21:23:44.274-04:00

In our last home, Mr. Starlet and I entertained very little. Very little.We had the best of intentions when expressing to friends that we'd enjoy having them over for dinner, but rarely did we follow through with an invitation. I can count on one hand the number of times we entertained family and friends.Make that half a hand. (Although can you really entertain .5 times? Maybe if the food is only

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-86407129762707373642009-08-27T12:09:00.008-04:002009-08-27T19:34:47.638-04:00

Mr. Starlet and I have a punk(in). She's tiny. She's beautiful. She drools. She often stinks. And she's infinitely curious.When we had occasion to visit Uptown Shelby yesterday, I promised Punk an afternoon of art and local culture. Nevermind that to her a stationary ceiling fan is a piece of art worthy of lengthy admiration. With Punk strapped securely in her stroller and along with her 50+

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5868959325868242298.post-49131358270451001692009-08-22T20:17:00.009-04:002009-08-27T19:19:08.014-04:00

Mr. Starlet and I recently entertained four house guests who traveled no less than 4,000 miles to help us move approximately 15.Moving is an evil necessity. This move was made even more so when one houseguest's insulin went missing for 30 minutes, another suffered an animal attack, and a third nearly passed out from heat exhaustion. To reward--er, beg for their forgiveness--Mr. Starlet and I

Shelby Starlethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00320527053720841380noreply@blogger.com0