How to take a compliment. By Missy Manners.

Everyone loves a compliment.

Even me. But we don’t

always know how to take it.

Why is that?

Is it because of embarrassment?

Humility?

Or do we believe the deliverer

to be insincere?

I say enough of that.

We need to embrace every

compliment.

A simple thank you will do.

Here are some real life examples

from Missy Manners.

1.

Giver: “You have pretty eyes.”

Missy: “Thank you.”

2.

Giver: “Your hair looks nice. Today.”

Missy: “Uh. Thank you.”

3.

Giver: “ Your kids usually are so well-behaved.”

Brief moment of silence

Missy: "Thank you."

Now these are true life examples of

compliments that I 

 have received at some point in my life,

but the next one I will

never, ever forget. Ever.

I was 16. My future mother-in-law

was the giver. I didn’t know

how to respond to it then.

Still don’t.

Future MIL: “You remind me of  Sissy Spacek.”

Sound of crickets.

Now, don’t get me wrong, but at 16 the only

thing I knew about Sissy Spacek

was “Coal Miner’s Daughter”.

And all I could think about was

her playing the guitar while barefoot

on the front porch

with kids running amuck around her.

This was most definitely NOT

a compliment to 16 year old me.





I remembered this not long ago, as I am

prone to do, and so I asked

my mother in law about it.

MIL: “I’ve always thought Sissy Spacek was cute.”

Missy: “Thank you.”

What's on Missy's phone? - Courtesy of the kids.

It’s that time of week again.

WORP Tuesdays with  Jessica
at Lowe Family News.

I’ve missed the last couple

of weeks

because I’m ghetto.

I don’t really use my phone’s camera much.

But true to usual fashion

the kids have not let me down.

I have some really great, or odd, or no

words can describe it pics for you.

Like this.

I HATE spiders! Who would ever

eat a sucker with a spider in it?

One guess.

Yep this guy.

When I first saw this picture.

I laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

So, I asked him about it.

“What are you doing? Stripping?”

(Well what did you think?)

“O vat? Chicken Dance.”

And then I got a demonstration.

Huh. Who knew?

And this is a lovely picture

of your friendly Midwest Elk.

No, they’re not indigenous here.

We’re just lucky to have them as neighbors.

This guy greets me most mornings

when I come home from work.

“Morning Hank.”

“Morning Missy.”

“Tough night?”

“Nah. You?”

“One of the deer got out, but Farmer Tim

wrangled her up when a looky-loo spotted her.”

“Tough times.”

“Yep”.

Well sadly, or maybe not, that’s it till next time.

Just for the record,

the above conversation

never really took place.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas.

Christmas is such a special time.
My kids get sOoOo excited when I
drag out the boxes of Christmas decorations.
They like to help decorate the
tree, but usually loose interest quickly
once they've searched for, and found
their favorite pieces.

I LOVE Christmas decorations.
But I refuse to pay a lot for them.
Here's a fact for ya
Most of my decorations, if they haven't been
given to me,  come from

Goodwill or I've bought them

super cheap after Christmas.

Let me know what you think.





 

 

 

 

 

Merry Christmas.

Missy



The Recipe.




photo courtesy allrecipes.com

 

Hub's family came to our house for Thanksgiving this year.

Since his Mother left us for the Land of Disney

we had no other choice.

What were we to do?

It was my idea really.

But Hubs thought it sounded grand.

So, phone calls were made and invitations extended.

Let the planning begin.  

I am not a cook.

But every once in awhile I aspire to be one.

Wanting to release the inner chef within me

I searched the Pioneer Woman's blog for the perfect recipe.

(She's practicly my best friend and loves to share all of

her tried and true recipes with me.  Cause she loves me.)

Anywhoo..

That's where I came across The Recipe for

Cranberry Pomegranate Sauce.

It was perfect.

Fresh cranberries, pomegranate juice, sugar.

What could be simpler?

So I trought off to the store with my little

Thanksgiving Feast list in hand and Hubs in tow.

As I'm searching for the necessary ingredients

the following conversation takes place

(or at least something like it).

Hubs says, "Why are you making that?  You don't even like cranberry sauce."

"Yeah, I know, but other people do.  And with this great recipe I may change my mind."

(He was seriously interfering with my inner Julia Child.)

"Yeah well that pomegranate juice better be worth it costing that much for that little."

Yeah. Yeah. 

Fast forward to Thanksgiving morning.

2 chocolate pies, a pecan pie, a Robert Redford, and a load of peeled potatoes later

 I begin to prepare The Recipe.

I wash the cranberries, as instructed.  Leave them in a pan of water,

add the 3/4 cup of sugar and poor in the pomegranate ju...

when I realize, a little too late, that

The Recipe didn't call for water. 

Every bit of the pomegranate juice was now diluted.

Gulp.

I was sick. I just ruined The Recipe.

 I looked around for Hubs. 

He was no where to be found.

Did a happy dance.

Then drained off most

of the fluid and proceded on. 

And guess what?  No one ate any of it. 

Not one bite.

I didn't even take it out of the fridge.

I'm not telling Hubs.  He hasn't even noticed it yet.

It's for his own good really. 

He would never recover.

I mean who messes up Cranberry sauce?

Next year I'm gonna volunteer to make the stuffing.

What could be easier?  Some bread.  Some spices.

Easy peasy.

Insomnia Cured.

Today I was super lazy.

I slept most of the day away.

Working third shift has played havoc

on my sleep this week and it finally

caught up with me.

But I don’ t care.

For a little while I got to 

cuddle with this little guy

as we curled up to watch

Harry Potter, but fell asleep instead.

Later, after dinner my big guy

cuddled up next to me on

the couch. He doesn’t do that

very much anymore. We sat next

to each other for awhile. Until his

ten year-old orneriness took over and
I was forced to shoo him away.

I saw a wall hanging once, before the

boys were born, that said

“Mothers of little boys work from

Son up until Son down.”

I didn’t know it was prophecy.

Blog ya later, Missy



What's on Missy's phone?- Rainy Day Fun

It's that time of week again.
WORP(whats on R phones) Tuesday.
I hooked up with the "Hussy"
if you wanna know what the rest
of the paparazzi's been up to.
And since I've been a lazy blogger
this week- I'll get right to it.

Today it rained.  This is the view from my kitchen window
just before I went to bed.  I like it when it rains.
Especially when I've worked the night before.
Then I don't feel guilty sleeping the day away.

This is Katie.  She sleeps with me when I get home from work.

All day.  She should feel guilty.

This is kids making a run for it after getting off the bus.
I was glad they were hurrying because I was
afraid they might melt.


Blog ya later, Missy

What's on Missy's phone? or better known as "Signs of the Times."

My phone is a kid magnet.
No kidding (pun not intended).

Olivia used to have it all. the. time.
Now Owen does.

They like to listen to the cool music.
Cause I know how to rock.
And they like to text.  Oh my, how they
LoOoVe  to text.
And lastly they like to take pictures.

Boys and girls do not take
pictures of the same things. 

Would you like to see?
Do a little comparison?
Night and Day.

                 Girl                                                                                Boy

      Vs.



                Girl                                                                                  Boy

       Vs.            

              

                    Girl                                                                            Boy

  Vs.


Now, I must say, and surely you do as well,
that there are some obvious differences in their subject matter.

I don't understand it.
I don't even get surprised
when I look at my pictures anymore.

This is the life of a mother with girls and boys. 
I must admit that I kind of like it though.
We sort of balance each other out.

I'm linking up with the "HUSSY" for
what I like to call, woRp Tuesdays (what's on R phones).
Head on over there to see what
everyone else is taking pictures of.
We won't seem so strange anymore.


Oh.  I saved my favorite pics for last.
I took them.  About a year ago.
But I chuckle every time I see them.

They were two signs the boys' posted
on their bedroom door.



Translation:  The boys are mad at Olivia and have

kicked her out of their room.  Again.

But, we better not include Mom in this.

This next one is a bit dark.  Sorry.

It reads:  NO Girls Allowed!!!

              EXPECT if Needed.



Translation:  Olivia keep out.  Mom you
                   can come in to put our clothes up.


Blog ya later,
Missy