Coffee with Christine: Yes, I Am That Lady

It’s that time again, so grab your mug and pull up a chair.

On school lunches:

IMG_7472In case you are wondering, yes, it’s a sandwich. More to the point, it’s my son’s sandwich. Apparently, they look so good when he’s packing them that he now often takes two bites before he puts them in his lunch bag for the next day’s lunch. Thus, he has upped his game from the one bite sandwich days.

My only hope is that when he’s sitting at the cafeteria table, he makes it clear to the students and teachers around him that his mother does not pack his lunch.

Early on in my eldest son’s educational career (preschool, to be exact), I discovered that I abhor packing other people’s lunches even more than I abhor packing my own. I therefore determined that I would kill two birds with one stone by teaching the small people personal responsibility via having them pack their own lunches. Seriously, their primary responsibilities in pre-k were to a.) carry their own bags into school on account of their mom was not also their personal pack mule and b.) pack their own lunches on lunch bunch days.

Over the years, this has compromised the nutritional integrity of many a lunch, even with my inconsistent loving supervision.

But, to quote Lord Farquaad, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

Plus, we serve broccoli with dinner almost every night, so I’ve been able to justify this and other questionable nutritional practices.

(This is, in fact, why we serve broccoli with dinner almost every night. Truth in blogging, my friends.)

On hiking:

IMG_7458I took this on a recent hike with Baby-girl and her scouting group. I love the coastal canopy of trees so prevalent here.

IMG_7466This is my gratuitous aviary shot, taken of a bird that looked too sedate to ever exacerbate my fears of its species.

IMG_7467And no coastal hike would be complete without some lovely alligator signage.

On a sea escape:

IMG_7384Some days, I think I could escape from the world on one of these. In fact, you know what I’m in love with right now? Every time the Princess Cruises commercial with the tagline “Come Back New” comes on, I sit in a stupor afterward, imagining what it would be like to “come back new.” Seriously, whatever it is that they do on those ships to make you come back new, I want that.

Princess Cruises, please text me. I’ll blog my little heart out for you if you provide a cruise that will allow me to come back new. I’ll be your poster child blogger, particularly after one of your emotional makeover cruises.

Tangentially, I think Princess’s tagline would also work well for a plastic surgeon. It wouldn’t sell me personally, but it’d appeal to those with a penchant for cosmetic enhancement that involves small weaponry and after-procedure painkillers that make some of us nauseous.

(I really, really hate throwing up.)

(Just saying. ‘Cause we’re having coffee here and all.)

On the embarrassment front:

This happened a few weeks ago, at one of my son’s basketball games. I was sitting at the edge of the court taking pictures when suddenly my lens cap rolled off my lap, onto the floor, and then began rolling across the court (at a decent clip, I might add, for a lens cap).

Y’all, I don’t like to embarrass my peoples (LCB and the small people), much less myself, but there was no way I was going to let a Canon Rebel lens cap get trampled by a pack of fifth graders, even if it meant taking the hit myself instead.

I ran after the lens cap while LCB looked on, choked with laughter. As the stars would have it, the cap managed to just elude my grasp (picture me reaching, reaching, reaching, and just missing every time – yeah, that’s how it went) until I was halfway across the court. Finally, I grabbed it, turned and ran, just missing the hoard of boys barreling down the court.

It was one of my better moments. It was so good, in fact, that at the next game, a young lady sitting next to me, probably college-aged, looked over at me about a minute after I’d arrived and asked, “Are you the lady that had to chase her lens cap down the court during the last game?”

Why, yes. Yes I am that lady.

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Y’all, It’s Been Three Years


It’s been three years.

It’s been three years since the birth of An Island Mom. It seems like it’s been three days in some ways and three eternities in other ways.

To commemorate the major world event, I’ll share a few of the last year’s highlights, organized by category for your reading convenience. The categories are random and yes, I’m okay with this.

Embarrassing Moments: ‘Cause Where Would I Be If I Couldn’t Laugh at Myself

That Time I Fell (Yes, Fell) in the Ocean

Then There’s the Time I Fell Under the Minivan (and LCB Didn’t Notice)

IMG_5548Off Island: ‘Cause Every Now and Then We Venture over the Bridge

Far Above Sea Level

Savannah’s Christmas Glitter


Swimwear: ‘Cause, Um, the Title of the Post Below Pretty Much Explains It

Because There’s So Much To Say about Swimwear

IMG_5993Parenting: ‘Cause It’s This Thing I Do All the Time

Reading Little House by the Big Ocean


Education: ‘Cause It’s This Thing I Do Monday Through Friday

Things High Schoolers Never Say

IMG_6172Camping: ‘Cause I Know How To Turn One Night of Camping into Four Posts

Camping on Hunting Island: Part One

Camping on Hunting Island: Part Two

Camping on Hunting Island: Part Three

Camping on Hunting Island: Part Four


Weather: ‘Cause Islands Have Weather, Too 

An Island Weather Update – Okay, it’s mainly about the Jim Cantore clip.

100_3705Chocolate: ‘Cause It’s Chocolate

I Had Chocolate

IMG_7171How I Got Here: ‘Cause Some of You Have Asked

A Carolina Island Life: How It Came To Pass Part XII – Mainly, this is about picking up a story I love, one I paused for far too long.

More important than the highlights, however, is this truth: y’all have been such a blessing to me. Thanks for hanging with me.

I can’t imagine my life without you.

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Villians, Marauders, and Stormtroopers on Our Beach

Recently, the small people came home talking about a special pen they’d discovered, one that uses ink that’s only discernable by using a special light at the top of the pen. Then yesterday, I watched some of my students experiment with a similar pen, and we noted that while most people wouldn’t see the ink without the special light, if you know what to look for and how to angle the paper to catch any overhead light, you can still make out the “invisible” writing.

You probably think I’m about to either go deep or go loony here, but I’m hoping, at least, that you are wrong. Instead, it reminded me of a simple truth: while I’ve walked the beach regularly for almost ten years now, I have yet to see any villains, marauders, or stormtroopers. But, as it turns out, they’re there. How do I know?

While I’ve never seen the evil-doers myself, I have seen my son deep in the throes of battle with the miscreants he sees.

It is indeed a strange thing to watch your own flesh and blood waging war against unseen antiheroes in broad daylight, throwing himself headfirst into the air only to land in the sand, and then writhing around, wrestling the forces of evil as if the future of the beach depended upon it.

Some of you know of that of which I speak; your offspring or your neighbors do likewise.

IMG_7324It often starts like this. One moment he’s digging forts,

IMG_7336and suddenly, he grows weary of the task senses the enemy is near.

IMG_7357In a flash, he’s off,

IMG_7345but then turns around to retrieve his dropped weapon, a green plastic shovel in this case, and while doing so, he falls under the enemy’s blow.

IMG_7347He recovers, but before he resumes fighting, he must mop the beach with his head, of course.

IMG_7350He stands and charges but the enemy knocks him down again.

IMG_7351It’s now time to bring out the big guns. This gets them almost every time.

We’re not sure why.

IMG_7355And for the final blow, he opts for sandbending, an earthbending subcategory. (See The Last Airbender or bear yourself some sons if this reference makes no sense to you.)

IMG_7356Sometimes a little airbending is also needed when the ocean breezes thwart your sandbending plans. I hate it when that happens.

I suppose this is one of the gifts of being nine, an age when no special light is needed and no inhibitions are required.

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