A few things about turning 30

Happy Birthday to Meeeeeee!!

I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden I had a mini-meltdown (pre mid-life crisis, if you will) right before the big 3-0. I think I started thinking too much...that always seems to get me in trouble. After much guidance from Todd, my parents, and of course, much prayer and discussion with the Lord, I think I am back on track and I am happy to "bring on" thirty. Here are a few things I have been "thinking" too much about in regards to my milestone birthday.

1. Apparently, I am older than 42% of Americans.  Super.

I love this picture of my momma and me.

2. I hate it when people say, "Thirty is the new twenty." Why do we lie to each other? I find it similar to the same lie we tell each other when a bird craps on someone and everyone replies, "That's good luck!" WHAT?!?!?! A bird just took a dump on you, how in the world can that be good luck (should I remind you that you have fecal matter on you)? Sounds like bad luck to me!!!  Please no lies, just the truth in my thirties. Thanks.

3. 90% of a woman's eggs are gone by age 30. Awesome.

Nothing like scrapping from the bottom of the barrel when it comes to your offspring. I feel like my ovaries and I have this conversation every month:

Ovaries: "Ok, I have a few eggs for you to select from. The first one, egg 'A', it's going to grow up and hate you, Todd, and life general. It's going to be a real pain in the "ace" raising, complete menace to society, but I think it will have pretty eyes."

"Egg 'B' is a real lazy SOB, complete mooch. Gonna live off of you as long as possible, and blame all of their problems on everyone else. But deep down a real sweetheart."

"And I have this egg over here, now it's a complete wild card, could be OK or could be a complete mess. Can't really tell right now. Soooo, which one do you want me to send down the fallopian tube chute?"

Me: "When is the deadline to place my order?"

This picture makes me feel really old. Maybe it's because of the 60s decor in the background??
But, seriously...why don't I have pants on?

4. My metabolism decided to retire a few years ago. I think I heard she is on some beach in Costa Rica. Swell.

This girl is a traitor...I don't know when or where she left me.

5. I swear, the first sign of a gray hair and I am making an appointment with a shrink!

Looks like we are at a piano shop?

6. Sadly, I believe I have more in common with 40 year olds than 20 year olds. Real bills to pay, full-time job, actual responsibilities, worrying about retirement, I enjoy thinking about what my next meal will be, and I am tired by about 7 p.m.

Again, with the no pants. I see a reoccurring theme.

7.  I read somewhere that the strength of your bones is determined by how much calcium you consumed before the age of 18 (bone density peaking at age 30-35). If that is the case, I expect to have full blown osteoporosis by 32.

8. Botox and Spanx are going to be my new best friends this decade.

9.  Apparently, getting older means you can't sleep-in past 9 a.m. I think there is some biological wiring against it. When did this happen?

10. But, in all honestly I am actually looking forward to my thirties!!! As Todd said, "many changes are coming this decade." I remain hopeful!! Stay tuned, we've only just begun.  :)

One-day-old hospital picture. I still play with my ears when I am nervous.

Number 2: A Story About Sister 2

My little sister, sister number two, turns 26 today. She quite possibly is one of the most hilarious individuals I know. As a kid, I remember her always making jokes, and as a result, always made friends lightening fast with her quick wit and silly antics. I don't remember a whole lot when Stephie was born (I mean I was just shy of turning four), but I do remember being told the day she was born that I was a big sister and this perplexed me. NOT because I wasn't excited to be a big sister (I most definitely was), but I was most concerned because I knew my birthday was just a few short days away and NOW her birthday was being celebrated first. So, I asked most perplexed, "Am I still going to be the big sister?"  Because in my three-year-old reasoning, the big sister's birthday should be celebrated first, you know chronological order. Oh, the logic of a three-year-old.

Apparently my reasoning capacity did not improve much after turning four. One of the next memories I have of Stephie was accidentally (almost) poisoning her. I would guess she was almost one, and it had to be right around Christmastime because my parents were putting together a few gag gifts for our grandmothers upcoming milestone birthday (her birthday is Christmas Eve). One of the gag gifts involved a black cane in which they wrote with a hot pink paint pen, "This is the only cain you'll be raising." I was instantly attracted to the hot pink paint pen (still love the color pink), and I just had to get my hands on it. Once I had it illegally in my possession I took it in my room and proceeded to paint my eleven-month-old sisters lips with the paint pen. I thought she looked stunning and I proceeded to show my parents her new "make-over" compliments of yours truly. Apparently, painting your sister's lips with toxic paint is frowned upon in this establishment.

I do believe my favorite childhood memory of Steph has to be the dirty word game! This game was invented just for Stephanie. Back in the day, I would say Steph was like five or six (I was probably nine or ten) she loved dirty words, kid style dirty words of course. She was constantly running around saying, "poop," "fart," "booger," "stupid," etc. My grandfathers wife, she-who-must-not-be-named, invented the game one summer when we were visiting our grandparents in Florida, as an idea to help thwart Stephs obsession with dirty words. The rules of the game were very simple: 1.) No one could say a "dirty word" all day long until after dinner time 2.) After dinner we would all take turns (round-robin style) saying one "dirty word" at a time (going as many rounds as necessary until we felt satisfied and could go all day tomorrow without saying a dirty word). Of course all day long I was thinking of the dirty words I wanted to express after dinner, would I really hit the mother load, with like a four-letter word?  Or would I take the easy street and say something totally expected like, "butthole?"

The game would start off innocently enough,
"Poop"
"Toe jam"
"Vomit"
"Skid marks"
"Fart face"

"Diarrhea"

"Bully-freckle fart" (that's a Woodson signature word)
...but then the adults would always ramp it up a notch after a few go-arounds,

"Vagina"

"Penis"

"Sex"

"Pubic hairs"

"Nipple"

"Damn-it"

"Foreplay"
"Orgasm"
"Dumb Ass"

I swear, by round four everyone would be laughing hysterically, and anxiously awaiting what the next person would say! It was a riot! I think the Woodson family should totally trademark this game...it just might be the next best seller?

Growing up I would say Steph wins the emergency room award. I have several memories of spending the evening watching TV from the Tinker AFB ER (because apparently getting seen by an ER doctor requires a minimum of a four hour wait). I am to blame for at least two of her ER visits. I went through a phase when I loved giving "pumps" on my bike (this is where an individual would either sit on the handle bars of my bike or stand on the two small screws on my back wheels) and I would escort them around the neighborhood. Steph was always a willing participant to receiving free pumps. Unfortunately, we acted like hillbillie children when we played outside and never wore shoes (a few years later she stepped on a rusty nail, which landed her in the ER, as well). Twice she got her ankle caught in the spokes of my bike (which was moving very fast) and would instantly remove the skin on her ankle and expose the bone. Yeah, I feel really bad about that. ;(

Anyone who hangs around a Woodson more than once knows we attract some special personalities. My mom and Stephanie seem to be the best at selecting them out of a crowd. Another Florida visit with the grandparents, this time we were much older, our dad had stopped at an Albertson's to grab something while the rest of us waited in the mini-van. As we waited, Steph found the most peculiar man at the pay phone. The entire conversation he was scratching his balls. I am not talking about a sneak scratch here-and-there, I am talking about a full-on, going to town, digging for gold (down under), non-stopping itching. He would lift his leg so he could get a better angle, change positions (while on the phone), scratch from the front, then scratch from the back, switch ears so he could use his other hand and "attack" the other side. It was all very disturbing. Truly a sight to behold! I dunno, I think he might of had crabs, not sure just a guess? ha. ;)

Ok, my last we-attract-crazy-people story (even though I could write an entire blog on our crazy people encounters), Steph who is naturally beautiful has had a fair share of douche bags try and hit on her. "Hey, little lady can I have your number?" As a defensive mechanism from the dreaded douche bag, she single-handedly invented the most creative way to avoid these losers. She simply taps the side of one of her ears, and in her best deaf girl voice says, "I can't hear you." Next thing she knows they are profusely apologizing for bothering her, "So sorry ma'am. Have a good day!" Simply genius.

There are so many stories I could tell about Stephanie from growing up. Here are some of the things I love about my number 2:

1. I love that she has the most hysterical sayings:

"Case closed," when she wants to point out she is right and you are wrong

"Laroooooo," when something is funny, taboo, or just to spice up the conversation

"Big Lady," what she calls her sisters

"Biggie Smalls," her nickname for me (because I am the big sister but the smallest sister)

2. She is very creative. She made the most adorable Halloween costumes for Stella and Madi (they were a black widow and snow cone). She invented "lighter condoms," (little cases that you could put your cigarette lighters in) they sold like hot-cakes at a concert.

3. I loved watching movies like the Breakfast Club (sometimes behind our parents back...don't you forget about me...hahaha). "Smoke-up Johnny," and Sleeping Beauty with her when we were growing up. Back then we could have quoted these movies.

4. I love that she is a morning girl. She is generally in bed super early (compared to Courtney and me) and wakes up completely refreshed, and ready to go before 9 a.m.

5. She has a love for sign language and is currently going to back to school. I love it when my sisters sign to me.

6. She is totally the life of the party. Everyone loves her and thinks she is a comedian.

7. I loved jumping on the trampoline growing up and double bouncing her. Somehow she would always end up falling off the trampoline and land on the ground, her skinny body a crumpled mess, and would be completely bruised but get right back up and start jumping again. 

8. She loves some Vegas-style Wheel of Fortune

9. She is the best story-teller. I love when she tells a story...completely entertaining!!

10. She has been an amazing mother to my two beautiful nieces! I am in awe of how hard she works and how much love she puts forth with her girls!

Happy Birthday, little sis!! I hope you have a wonderful day!! I just put your birthday gift in the mail. I hope you enjoy your meatloaf with fancy fixins from Cracker Barrel!  

A Smoky Mountain Christmas

Many years ago my parents put together a video montage for the grandparents and great-grandparents as a Christmas gift of candid moments of our family. The opening of the video montage, my dad video taped my mom, who had dressed up in one of her long, flowing elegant gowns (that she wore to one of their Air Force banquets), singing Memories by Barbara Streisand. That Christmas, when I was in second or third grade, my parents presented the video montage to our great-grandmother, to which she did not recognize my mom as the women singing Memories and replied, "Good God! Look at the mouth on that women!" Of course, I still laugh uncontrollably when I think back to that Smoky Mountain Christmas many years ago.

Everyone has that one Christmas that sticks out and in your memory as the poster child for "a wonderful Christmas." This Christmas had to be one of them, of course, our honeymoon Christmas in Mexico will always remain at the top of the list. My parents love the Smoky Mountains. They honeymooned in the Smoky Mountains, and have visited as often as possible ever since I can remember (thankfully over the years we had family live in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina, which always gave a great reason to revisit when we were growing up). Since my dad is in the Air Force and we moved around about every three to four years, I would say we feel like "home" when we are in Waynesville, North Carolina. Back in 1979, our great-grandmother bought a small house in the mountains just outside Maggie Valley/Waynesville area of North Carolina (the same house we have been visiting since day-one of our childhood), when she passed away our grandfather, PapPap, inherited the house and kept it was a vacation home, in 2007 PapPap passed away and my mom and dad have since inherited the house.

Generally, my family spends the summers in North Carolina (please see my comical calamities blog for our mountain fun this summer). However, for about a year we had been discussing the idea of celebrating Christmas in the mountains, and were totally ecstatic that all the sisters, and significant others, could come together (from what seems like all over the country) and be one, big happy family (even if it only was for a few short days). Here are some of the pictures from our Smoky Mountain Christmas.

Right outside the Cataloochee Ski Slopes

It was so cold that day...we could barely open our eyes.

Freezing. 

The Biltmore House, Asheville, North Carolina

My two crazy parents! God love them!



These were old walking stilts. Todd got right up and starting walking...I think he missed his calling as a carney man for the circus! 

My little sis, Corkie.

This picture is special.

I am sad this picture came out super blurry. But, Courtney and Riley tried to race on stilts.



The group tubing on Christmas Eve.


I had a little bit too much fun tubing. ;) And for the record, the Stansberrys won both the men's and women's tubing competition.


Stella left oats for the reindeer. Later, my dad added sleigh marks in the snow for Stella to see on Christmas morning...super cute.

Stella placing the star on the tree. :)

Madi said, "Who is this weirdo holding me? Please advise. He also looks like he needs to take a shower."

Someone, anyone? Help!

Our white Christmas morning. 

Stella was so excited that Santa had come. 

Every year we must have the Christmas morning picture. It's never a "pretty picture" for anyone.

All the boys decided to go sledding, my thirty-year-old husband decided to take it a step further and sled down an embankment. Later he told me that he was lucky he didn't lose his front teeth. I was so impressed (not).

He had snow up both nostrils, up his back, and his face was a red I have never seen before. 

The boys toasted to 15 year-old Scotch. Nasty.

Christmas evening.

December 26th. It had snowed over 7inches in one day!!

The sisters saying, "goodbye." 

This is a picture of my parents driveway. Right about were the road bends, Todd put the rental car in a ditch! I thought we were gonna be stranded for days...luckily, the boys got it out of the ditch and we headed to the airport, without anymore incidents. But, Courtney and me sang, Carrie Underwood's song, Jesus Take the Wheel, for Todd's enjoyment. :)