5 Things I Learned from My Mother

WIth Mother's Day around the corner, I couldn't leave this week without paying a little special attention to my mom. I'm fortunate to have a mom, first of all, but even more fortunate to be very, very close to her. April and I talk conservatively 4 times a day, and both of our husbands have just had to DEAL.

Last year, after more than a quarter century of us living in the same state, my parents moved to Tulsa and we moved to Asheville. That put 14 hours in a car between April and me, which has made me realize just how much I love her (if that even needed emphasis). So Mom, this post is for you: the five biggest lessons you've taught me so far. 

1. Food solves everything. 

New Year's Day 2015 - there are 13 tiny layers in this cake. April made it, of course. 

This one was an easy beginning. Anyone who is even remotely close to my family has eaten in our kitchen, which also means eating my mom's incredible food. She's not just a good cook "for a mom;" she's a good cook for anybody. Guests around my mother's table sit down hungry, are gobsmacked by the level of skill she has in the kitchen, then leave - full, a little drunk (though that's my dad's doing), and happy. 

Whether it's homemade buttermilk biscuits, fried chicken (Parker's favorite), Thomas Keller's roast chicken, or breakfast on Christmas morning, the woman knows what she's doing. 

In my own life, food with my mom has played a major role. Though we are definitely both healthier eaters now than we used to be (and thank you Jesus, because we'd be 800 pounds each), every major event in my life has been marked by Mom and me tearing up some kind of cuisine. Bad day? Mexican food. Home sick from school? Burger King on the way home. Weekend at my grandmother's? Krispy Kreme for breakfast. Got dumped? Homemade mashed potatoes. 

Including this in the list is not about bragging on my mom's culinary skill (though I did plenty of that and am going to continue bragging with abandon), but about something deeper - cooking is a love language for my mother, and for many mothers out there. Cooking has become a love language for me because I grew up listening to that language, and now I can speak it because my mother taught me how. 

2. Light up your eyes. 

Maya Angelou was once quoted talking about how important it was as a parent to make sure your children knew that you loved them. She said one of the best yardsticks to use was, "Do your eyes light up when they come into the room?" 

I vividly remember hearing this quote on the radio in my car, because it moved me to tears - it was the first time I realized just how fortunate I was to have a mother whose eyes were always full of light. 

Parker and I grew up in a house where literally every single time we walked through the front door, Mom would yell, "MAAAAAARY!!!!!! PARKERRRRRR!!!!" usually followed by a totally non-rhyming chant or cheer of some sort while we all marched around or clapped along (I can hear it in my head now). It didn't matter if we had been gone for 5 days or 5 minutes - there was an actual celebration that took place when we returned. 

This practice of pouring out love and celebration is something my mother does constantly. She poured it out for her clients at a food ministry in Birmingham, for the little girl she tutors in Tulsa, for all her many friends, for her family. It wasn't until I heard that Maya Angelou quote that I realized my mother embodied something that is an actual effort for other people, and I've never taken it for granted again. 

3. Go above and beyond as a hostess.

She isn't in this photo, but her fingerprints are EVERYWHERE. Photo be Leslee Mitchell Photography.

Anyone who's ever stayed at my parents' or eaten at my parents' table knows this one to be true: April turns it OUT when people are coming over. 

Fresh flowers in vases on every surface. Food absolutely everywhere. A glass bottle of water and glasses on every nightstand. Rising early to cook a ridiculously enormous breakfast. If it's a party she's hosting, the house is completely immaculate, decorated within an inch of its life and somehow still very tasteful. Our birthday cakes and invitations as children were always homemade, thought "homemade" at my house looked professionally crafted. 

This is one I'm still honing myself (haven't quite nailed it - I think it must take years), but it speaks to Mom's constant and unwavering willingness to place others before self. It's not about hosting for her, it's about meeting everyone's needs and seeing that everyone who crosses the threshold of her home feels so special, attended to, and deeply loved. 

4. Give it away.

Speaking of generosity, this one is a biggie. 

I have so many memories growing up of this exact situation playing out: 

Some random person: "April, I love your earrings!" 
April: "Oh, thank you!! Here, why don't you have them?" 
Random person: "Oh, no - I couldn't do that." 
April: *already taking them out of her ears* "Please!! I would love for you to have them." *hands them over.* 

This happened with earrings, bags, jackets - you name it, she's given it away. Of course, there are a few special things with which she'd never part, but mostly, even considering her ubiquitous style and flare, Mom is pretty willing to part with "just stuff." Though she has always been a "cool mom" in the sense of being fashionable and current, she's never had a closet stuffed full of clothes, shoes, and jewelry. She's selective in her choices, and even then, it's just stuff. And still, she would be voted among anyone I know as one of the most beautiful and classic women around. 

But again, as with most things, this action is a reflection of a deeper attitude for my mom: things aren't important, but people are. 

5. Choose joy.

Crying of joy in this very picture. 

Loud, constantly singing, cackling/snorting/wheeze laughing, spastic, dancing badly, crying on a dime, twirling around with happiness, striking up conversations with complete strangers, oversharing - these are just a few things that Mom and I have in common.

It's because April lives her life from a place of joy first. 

Nobody's life is perfect. But there is a way to live that places happiness, kindness, and J O Y at the forefront of a person's mind and heart, and that is the way that April McAnnally lives. 

Really, it's not just joy - it's all her emotions. She feels things deeply and immediately, and so do I. I can't count the number of times we've started to tell a story and paused, tearing up, saying, "I'm gonna cry talking about it!" Or how many times I've called her and she's in the middle of sobbing while watching someone succeed on The Voice or American Idol. Or how many times we've been at a concert and I've had to step away from the crazy woman dancing and singing all the words. Or how many times, seeing that I'm angry or upset about something, she will also get angry or upset, to the point that I have to calm her down in order to calm myself down. 

My mother lives life with a heart WIDE open. Choosing to live that way means you're vulnerable to great despair, but it also means that you feel love, triumph, and sparkly-can't-stand-it-goodness more intensely than most. It is a way to walk through life that sees the world in all its color, vibrancy, diversity, and hope - every day, all the time, without trying hard. She is the queen of this particular lifestyle.

Of course, there's no way to capture everything I've learned from my mother. I don't even think I'm aware of it - she made me, she has shaped me, and she continues to fine-tune her work by living the example of what it means to be a compassionate, kind, God-loving, spirited, FABULOUS woman. I haven't had any success, happiness, or wonder in my life for which she wasn't, in some sense, responsible. There's nobody like her. 

Here's to you, Mom. 

Taking a Compliment

Taking a compliment. Not easy, right? 

When someone compliments us - hair, clothes, professional success, how well-behaved our children or our pets are, our home, etc. - our first instinct is not to accept, but to deflect. 

Here are some examples of things that I have said recently: 

Compliment: "Mary Catherine, your outfit is so cute!" 
Me: "Well I'm trying to distract from the fact that I've eaten like I'm out on bail this weekend, so this tunic is to mask the 1,000 pounds of pasta in my belly right now." 

Compliment: "This breakfast is delicious - thank you so much!" 
Me: "Somehow I've made these biscuits 1,000 times, and they still didn't turn out quite right. Ugh. But thank you!" 

Compliment: "I love the way you did your hair today. It looks really pretty!" 
Me: "Actually I look like a garden troll - I haven't washed my hair for three days and it basically is about to leave my head in protest." 

So, yeah. I'm certainly not talking about this because I've mastered the art of taking a compliment. 

But it's something I've become acutely aware of lately - it seems women in particular simply cannot take compliments. We have such a hard time accepting that someone else is giving us praise. Why?? I think it's two major reasons: 

1. We don't accept compliments because we don't want other people to think we're stuck up. 

This is basically the "So you agree - you think you're really pretty?" scene from Mean Girls, realized. If someone gives you a compliment, and you don't immediately disagree or say something mean about yourself, that must mean you AGREE with the compliment. And THAT must mean you're stuck up and horrible, because the idea that you're allowed to feel good about yourself is just plain unacceptable. 

2. We genuinely don't agree with the compliment or are uncomfortable getting praised. 

I have lots of friends who, when complimented (especially in front of a group), turn into shrinking violets. They physically actually make themselves smaller and try to direct attention anywhere but them. These are my friends who, for whatever reason, can't understand why they're being positively reinforced by anyone about anything. They don't believe they're worthy of these sorts of kind words, so they have a physiological reaction to being singled out. They don't see it in themselves and they CERTAINLY don't want to hear it from others. 

Listen, here's the thing. 

If someone is giving you a compliment about ANYTHING - however small - it's because that person really, genuinely had that thought and wanted to share it with you. It's a verbal affirmation with the singular intention of making you feel good about yourself. When we deflect or disagree with compliments, we're not really achieving the goal we think we are. Instead of looking humble, funny, or down-to-earth, we end up looking rude, ungrateful, and insecure. The person who gave us the compliment is now having to laugh at our joke meant to minimize what they meant to be kind.

Think about it - if you were at a restaurant with a group of people and someone said, "My meal was GREAT. Every bite was perfect," you'd never respond with, "Really?? Because I thought your food looked like garbage." Of course not! You'd never be rude enough to say something that contradicted that person's experience or insulted their opinion. And you know what a compliment directed at you is? That person's experience and their opinion. 

I am a person who loves to compliment other people, regardless of how well I know them (I'm the girl who will cross a room to tell a stranger that I love her shoes or bag or hair or anything else), and yet I still have to coach myself through simply saying, "Thank you so much!" when someone compliments me. Whazzup with that?? 

So here's my challenge for everyone, but particularly the ladies who read this blog: all week long, I want us (me included) to practice accepting compliments WITHOUT the little dog and pony show that goes along with it. Here are some responses you could use: 

"Thank you so much!" 
"Oh wow - I wasn't feeling great, and you just made my day!" 
"That is so kind of you to say. I really appreciate that." 
" You know what? I left the house feeling really insecure about _________, and you just made me feel great!" 
"You are always so sweet. Thanks for saying that!" 
And if you're anxious about letting the "Thank you," hang in there air, then throw a compliment right back! 

If your problem is that you're worried people will think you're a big snob, here's a secret: they won't. People are way too wrapped up in themselves to worry thinking that much about your response to a compliment -- promise. 

If your problem is that you don't think you deserve the attention, well Lean In, sister, 'cause I got news: YOU DO. 

It may be uncomfortable, and it may not feel natural, but on our path to being fully realized, gracious, radiant women, one of the things we have to learn to do is just say, "Thank you." 

Gauntlet: thrown! 

(And in the meantime, please enjoy this hysterical - but also NSFW and partially pretty foul - video from Inside Amy Schumer about how women just can't take a compliment.) 

Do It Yourself In One Million "Easy" Steps

Doing it yourself is so easy! It only takes one million extremely complicated steps. 

1. Look at your dining room. Gaze in ambivalence at your four non-matching, VERY worn out chairs.
2. Realize that you're a 27-year-old grown woman who's been married for nearly 2 years and it's time to get matching dining room chairs. 
3. Meet a friend and go to an estate sale. 
4. Try not to think about the fact that all this furniture used to belong to someone who died recently. 
5. Do not look at the mug that says "World's Best Grandpa," and do NOT think about how sad it is that that mug is on the shelf. 
6. Stumble upon a set of chairs that have good bones.

7. Ask your friend what she thinks. 
8. Text your mom to get her opinion.
9. Text your husband to get HIS opinion. 
10. Congratulate yourself on being awesome at choosing husbands when his response is, "Get what you want! You're the boss!" 
11. Note with glee that all four chairs are only $80. 
12. Buy chairs. 
13. Go to brunch and celebrate. 
13. Come back the next day with husband and dog to pick up said chairs. 
14. Make sure the chairs, which are not high quality, scratch the paint off your husband's Jeep (his most prized possession). It's important to add a little tension to the scenario, because otherwise it's just TOO EASY! 
15. Find a tutorial online that started with similar chairs to yours and ended up looking like you want them.

16. Compile a list of supplies and ask your husband to drive you to Lowe's. 
17. Convince your husband that you promise not to act up in Lowe's this time - you won't hide behind the palettes or use dowels as swords or climb the ladders and sing his name loudly when you're at the top.
18. Keep your promise (mostly). 
19. Locate all your supplies, then drive to the fabric store. 
20. Avoid the cute boy scouts on the way in, because they want to sell you things you don't need and you're powerless against a cute, chubby little boy scout. 
21. Laugh to yourself as you pass a family where the smallest boy is suggesting a Finding Nemo print for his mom's new couch.
22. Gasp in horror at how expensive all the foam you need to re-cover the cushions and back of the chairs is going to be. 
23. Ignore that the brooding teenage guy checking you out hasn't showered today (or anytime this year) and smile politely as he tells you that you have to get your foam pre-cut in order to pay for it. 
24. Watch as your husband returns the foam to where it belongs and decides that the foam part can wait until another day.
25. Arrive home. Pack a lunch for your husband so he can go fly fishing.
26. Sit on your front porch, drink a beer, and seriously consider setting the chairs on fire. 
27. Locate sandpaper. Start sanding the paint away. Sand until it hurts. Sand until you don't have fingerprints left.
28. Remember that your friend Wes gave your husband a palm sander as a wedding gift. 
29. Go to your basement. Get bitten by a rat (or probably just an ant, but it felt like a rat). Find the sander. 
30. Google "How do you use a palm sander?" and watch the tutorial. 
31. Turn the sander on. Promptly sand a chunk off of one of the chair legs. And make sure it's a front leg, too - not a back leg where no one will notice. 
32. Call your father in law to make him talk you through sanding stuff. 
33. Decide you can TOTALLY DO THIS and you will not be defeated be an MFing power tool. 
34. Sand two chairs completely. 
35. Try to remove the seat cushions from the chair frame with a screwdriver. Fail. Strip the screws to make sure they're REALLY hard to get out. 
36. Remember that your husband has a drill somewhere. Find it. Turn it on. 
37. Shove one of the drill bits into the drill head thing and start stabbing at the screw to see if that's how it works. 
38. Google "How the hell do you use an electric drill??????" 
39. Figure it out and remove all but two of the screws. 
40. Take a selfie to send to your father in law who can't believe you're doing this project. 

41. Find the varnish and a sponge paintbrush.
42. Having not learned anything from the "start with the back legs" mistake of just a few minutes ago, start by painting the front legs. Badly. 
43. Hope your neighbors aren't weirded out that you're binge watching Sex and the City while doing this. Try to turn the volume down anytime Samantha is on screen. Slime your computer with varnish. 
44. Since you've sunk 4 hours into this project, welcome your husband back home from his fishing trip. 
45. Watch in delight as he successfully removes the stripped screws by using a rubber band as leverage. 

46. Apologize to your EXTREMELY bored dog, who won't even look at you because of how neglected he's been all day. 

47. Congratulate yourself on having not permanently damaged yourself, the dog, or the chairs. 
48. Congratulate yourself on having learned how to use power tools all on your own. 
49. Leave the chairs on the porch, untouched, for the rest of the weekend. 
50. Look at your life. Look at your choices. Hope that the chairs get eaten by bears. 

A Letter to Brides.

Dear beautiful bride, 

RIGHT?! It happened! You're engaged! Are you SO FREAKIN' EXCITED!? I know. It's the best. It really is. 

In about two weeks, people are going to start asking you lots of questions. What kind of wedding do you want? Big? Small? What time of year? How many bridesmaids? What sort of dress do you have in mind? Will the wedding be in your hometown or your fiancé's? Or neither? 

Your head might feel like it's going to pop right off your body and spiral into space. 

Been there. 

I've got five pieces of advice for you - both practical and philosophical - that I believe, if taken to heart, will make things a whole lot better. 

1. Be kind to your mind. 

At first, the decisions you get to make will be thrilling. Because it is thrilling! You're getting married!

After the first hundred of them, you'll start to notice yourself becoming a bit more sluggish and fuzzy-headed. This is a real thing called decision fatigue. The more decisions you make, the harder decisions become. Band or DJ? Indoors or out? Pink bridesmaids' dresses or grey? 

Choose a time of day (the best is in the morning, when your mind is fresh and well-rested) that you'll spend a set amount of time planning. I'd recommend an hour and a half or so a day. Set up a call with your planner (or, if you're doing it yourself, really discipline yourself to stick to the amount of time you've chosen). After an hour of decision-making ("Band! Indoors! Grey!"), try to make as few choices regarding your wedding as possible. This will save you (and everyone who has to deal with you) a lot of brain cells, headaches, and tears. I promise. 

2. Pick people who make you happy.

You've obviously already followed this advice - look at your fiancé! Now, all you have to do is keep making that choice. 

The guest list may be the most stressful part of any wedding. Two families, with all their relatives, close friends, and distant acquaintances, trying to compile a reasonable list of who's invited to this shindig. Let me spoil something for you: there will be people that you forget to invite. They will just slip your mind, until you run into them in person one day and your stomach sinks. 

It's not the end of the world. They'll forgive you. 

As for the ones who you do remember to invite, here's my advice: only invite people who, when you see them in the aisles of the congregation, would make you (or your spouse) light up with joy. Otherwise? AXED. 

That distant friend of someone's family member who once gave you a cookie on your birthday? You don't have to invite them. That fraternity brother who always kind of bugged you? Not on the list. 

Of course, if someone isn't invited, that doesn't mean they bug you or that you don't care for them. It just means that a guest list can only be so large. 

This day is about filling a space with l-o-v-e. That means if you were to run into a person at your reception who makes you think, "Oof. Avoiding THAT guy," then "that guy?" He ain't comin'. It's not because you're hateful, or cutthroat. It's because this is a time when obligations or forced interactions don't have to take place. It's because you should fill a room with the people on Earth who make you ONLY feel happiness. That's your prerogative. 

3. Delegate your responsibilities. 

When I got married, my mom and I did all the planning, calling, and deciding. We chose not to hire a wedding planner, because my mom happens to love doing all of the things surrounding a wedding (flowers, choosing a paper weight and calligraphy style for invitations, etc.). But she is also a freak of nature (in the best way), and I recognize that. 

The very first thing you should to to ensure that you don't end up with 30 tasks to complete 2 weeks before you get married is download a timeline, like this one, that helps you know how far out you should be booking/thinking about certain things.  

If you're planning by yourself? Enlist your bridesmaids to help complete certain tasks, like researching florists or venues in the area. And hire a "day-of" planner to take the wheel on your wedding day, so that all you have on your plate is to enjoy getting married. A day-of planner is a very inexpensive way to buy peace of mind. 

Planning with a family member or close friend? Make sure the division of responsibility is clear. You're handling invitations, the gown alterations, and booking spaces, while the other person deals with flowers, contact with the officiant, and making sure everyone gets paid. 

Working with a professional planner? Make your vision clear from the start - give them your Pinterest board, your scrapbook, your box of wedding ideas. Check in with them periodically. Be proactive. They may be running the show, but it's your wedding - input from you is crucial. 

It sounds un-romantic and stiff, but schedules and delegation are big. When you look back at this season of your life, it will undoubtedly have been a little frazzled, but you want to remember it as a happy time! Not as a time when you wanted to pull all the hairs from your head, one by one. 

4. Prioritize. 

Weddings cost money. Boy, do they ever. Your eyeballs may fall out and roll across the table when you start to realize just how much they can cost. 

Because things are so expensive, it's major to choose what's most important to you. Unless you're Kim Kardashian, you can't have the most expensive venue, AND the most expensive band, AND a $15,000 wedding dress, AND a 50-tiered cake, AND an open bar, AND a great photographer. There are choices to be made.

For Jordan and me, our priorities were: photographer, wedding gown, bar, and band. We wanted to have beautiful pictures of our day, for me to have a dress that made me feel great, for the bar to be full and open, and for there to be a great band that made it a real party. And I think (I hope!) we achieved all those goals. 

But that also meant that certain things were less of a priority. And that's okay! Not everything was as important as those top four. 

No matter what your budget looks like, your wedding can be exactly what you have in mind. It's a matter of deciding what things you want to spend your hard-earned money on. There has literally never been a better time than now for a DIY-wedding, given that places like Etsy exist. Some of the most touching and fun weddings I've ever been to were also done on a lower budget. 

Because you know what really makes a wedding? YOU. And your spouse. Which brings me to piece of advice #5 - the most important: 

5. At the end of the day, you're going to be married. 

All that other stuff I said before? It's important, sure. It's nice to not want to fling yourself from a building while planning. It's nice to have a concept of who's in charge of what. 

But the most important thing is you and the person you've chosen. Remember your first date? Remember how you had no idea that this was who you'd end up with, and now you're going to MARRY them?

Remember how, when you were a little girl, you dreamed about your wedding? You played house? You thought about what your grown-up life would look like? 

Here it is, sister. It's him. It's her. It's here. 

The reason to work hard in the planning process is not to throw a great party, or to have the "best" wedding, or the fanciest, or any of that. It's so that, on the day you get married, your mind is totally free to absorb the fact that YOU GET MARRIED TODAY. 

If you're really lucky, you'll only do this once. So SOAK IT IN. Every single moment. Every engagement party. Every time someone wishes you well. Every gift you open. 

When Jordan and I entered our reception, we did so from a second-floor staircase. Suddenly, all these people - all the food, the band, the lights - everything came into focus. And it was absolutely overwhelming. At no other time in my life will I be surrounded by that much love, and I was holding the hand of the person who made life whole for me. 

Whether the napkins are cream or white, whether your aunt Brenda's hair catches fire during your ceremony, whether you drop the rings, whether your drunk uncle wipes out on the dance floor - it doesn't matter. (And hiccups make for great stories.)

What matters is that you've found the person who lights up your soul, and you're marrying them. That's what everyone showed up for. 

Every time things get overwhelming, remember the reason this is all happening: two people fell in love. 

Best wishes,
Mary Catherine

Photo by Leslee Mitchell Photography. 

Dog Attack Story

Let me start by saying this: I don't have a problem with pit bulls, and I think condemning them outright isn't fair to anyone. As an animal lover, I know that pit mixes make up the majority of dogs in kill shelters, which breaks my heart. I personally know several pit bulls who are precious, so I can't get behind people hating on the entire breed. Dogs are a reflection of their owners, and if a dog is badly behaved, that's on the person, not the animal. Some dogs are naturally more aggressive, some dogs take to water, some dogs are great for hunting - all dogs have their strengths and weaknesses, and all have to be properly trained accordingly. The dogs in this story could've been any dogs, any breed.

Now, then. 

I've found myself telling this story a lot lately for one reason or another, so I thought I'd tell it here, too. 

In Asheville, there is a gorgeous riverside park with a trail that extends for miles along the French Broad River and terminates in a dog park. Tom Hanks and I would take long walks there every morning, doing the few miles from Carrier Park (where the trail starts) and ending at the dog park in French Broad Park. Both these parks have leash laws in place, except for in the dog park, obviously, because dog parks are the best and most fun.

In October, before it got too chilly, we were walking through Carrier Park. It was about halfway through our walk, and I was totally absorbed in a sermon I was listening to in my headphones. We passed a pretty surly motorcyclist who'd pulled up onto the grass. Just as I was thinking that I should probably speed up to avoid this guy, Tom Hanks and I were suddenly both knocked to the ground. 

When I sat up, I realized that two pit bulls were the culprits. They had been lying on the ground - had leashes on, but they weren't being held onto. Their owners (a college-aged couple) weren't watching them as we passed by, so they'd come at us full force. I'd gotten the wind knocked out of me and my sunglasses had been knocked off my head (never to be recovered, RIP favorite sunglasses!) - but most disturbingly, my dog had been pinned underneath two roughly 80 pound dogs. 

The pits' owners and I snapped into action and ran over. The girl in the couple snagged one of the dogs, and Tom Hanks was able to outrun the other one in enough time for the guy in the couple to tackle him. 

I was, of course, completely hysterical at this point - couldn't catch my breath and was just crying out of pure terror. I said to the couple, "I'm not usually a confrontational person, but this is why there are leash laws. You have to keep your dogs on a leash. They can't be allowed to do that." 

And the couple responded with a half-hearted, "Sorry?" and went back to their conversation. 

Tom Hanks was down the trail at this point, being cared for by none other than the big scary biker guy that before, I'd tried to avoid. He held TH's leash while I caught my breath and talked to both of us in sweet, dulcet tones about how everything was going to be fine. He even offered to look for my sunglasses. Precious. Once we were both a little steadier, we walked back to the car. It was only at that point that my adrenaline wore off enough for me to realize that my ankle had been badly sprained in the tussle. I ended up in a boot, nursing a high ankle sprain for about four months, and although it's MUCH better these days, the ankle still bugs me.

TH is a really friendly, more submissive fellow when it comes to interacting with other dogs, and this scared him pretty good. Though he emerged from the scrap with only some deep scratches on his belly, he was pretty freaked. 

Even though we were not at fault in this particular scenario, it inspired me to read a lot about how I can best make sure I'm facilitating a positive interaction between Tom Hanks and any other dog he may come into contact with. Tom Hanks is the first dog I've ever had, and because of that, I have had to learn a lot about proper association techniques. Here are some helpful things I've learned from the World Wide Web that can help all our pups get along: 

Follow leash laws. They're there for a reason - not for some people to follow and others to ignore. When one dog is on a leash and meets another dog who isn't, the leashed dog automatically feels like he's at a disadvantage and becomes fearful and/or aggressive. That's why in most dog parks, there's a little gated area between the entrance and the park itself for you to remove your dog's leash - it's so that when your dog is meeting other dogs, he's off-leash, just like they are, and everyone feels like they're on an equal playing field. 

Always ask. This is a biggie. Proper protocol when one dog meets another (assuming they're both on leash) is to ask its owner, "Is it okay if my dog says hello?" People know what their dogs can handle, and many people will simply say, "No, we're working on friendliness right now, but she's not quite there yet," or something similar. Asking first ensures that everyone - people and dogs alike - are aware, ready, and watching the interaction. No one is caught off guard, and everybody stays safe, especially the pups! 

Pay attention. In a situation when dogs are off-leash, like in a dog park, it falls to us as the humans to make sure everything's going swimmingly. A few times at our dog park, there will be folks who let their dogs off leash and then crack open a book, totally oblivious that their dog is wreaking all kinds of havoc and scaring everybody. I like to think of dogs as the equivalent of a bunch of 4th graders - they're usually harmless, but they're just smart enough to get into loads of trouble left unattended. 

Watch the tail and the ears. In all the dog books I've read (NERD ALERT), the authors talk about how tails and ears are emotional giveaways. For example, if your dog is in a new situation with lots of other dogs, and you notice that his ears are lying flat against his head and his tail is tucked, he is officially freaked out and needs a little soothing. Conversely, if his ears are pricked and his tail is lifted high, he's ready to play! Since dogs can't verbally communicate with us, this is the easiest way for us to read their emotions and help make every interaction a positive one. By watching the tail and ears, we're not abandoning our dogs in situations where they're uncomfortable, and that could potentially turn aggressive if left unchecked. 

It really is so easy to make sure that all dogs are happy and healthy - it just takes some extra attention and knowing what to look for. May we all be responsible dog owners and have dogs who are as happy as these derps right here: 

5 Ways I Know I'm Not 20 Anymore

Getting old is tough, kiddies. There are definitely some perks to being 27 rather than 22, but there are also some downsides.

Let's explore.

1. I wait excitedly for Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy to come on. 

As I've previously mentioned, Jordan and I don't have cable - we use Apple TV/Hulu/Netflix. But we did buy some rabbit ears to get basic cable, so now we can watch all the old people game shows that come on right after the 5 o'clock news. This has now become part of my evening ritual. 

You guys, Alex Trebek is SO MEAN to these people. Seriously, if you haven't watched Jeopardy in a while, I implore you to do so if only to watch Trebek passive aggressively ROAST these folks. It really is something special. Here's an excerpt from a recent episode when he really wouldn't give this poor soul Irene a break: 

After the Jeopardy! round:

Alex: And Irene trailing both of you…by a hefty margin.

Before Double Jeopardy!:

Alex: Despite those scores, it’s not out of reach for Irene.

Before Final Jeopardy!

Alex: Irene – this wasn’t your day, but we’ll start with you.

Damn, Trebek. 

2. When plans get canceled, I am elated. 

Now, don't get me wrong - sometimes I really want to see people and do things. And nobody likes being flaked on - that's not what I'm talking about. I am referring to those times when plans have been tentatively made for a particular day, and on that day, you wake up unsure of what's going to happen. Then you get THE TEXT: "Hey! ________ came up for me - can we do it another night?" 

Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce you to my sweatpants and the couch. 

Because that's what's happening when plans get broken. And I love every second of it. When I was 20, I would've been super disappointed and/or angry that I was probably going to miss out on some hilarious great time. These days? Pass the Cape Cod Kettle Chips. Thanks.

3. The sun hates me. 

Oh, ancestors. Couldn't you have been ANYTHING but super, super white?? 

I vividly remember the moment when I saw the first lines on my face. I was doing Teach For America at the time. One of the things you have to perfect as a teacher is a non-verbal warning to a misbehaving student while not missing a step in the lesson you're teaching. Something like this: 

TFA pays for Botox, right? 

Anyway, I'd just gotten back into my car at the end of the day, and I pulled down my visor to check my lipstick in the mirror (I was going somewhere right after to meet some folks for a drink). My car was flooded with natural light, which, as you ladies know, leaves NO flaw unturned. 

It was like three tiny rivers had been running across my forehead for years and left the fossils on my face. TERRIBLE.

When I was 20, I fell asleep with my makeup on. Now, I exfoliate, use a retinoid, a moisturizer, a spot corrector (if necessary), Burt's Bees, and do a mask once a week. I will have no more lines than is absolutely necessary.

I used to be able to galavant all over the place and not worry about the sun giving me additional lines/wrinkles. In high school, I went to the TANNING BED. That's right. Tanning bed. Can't even believe that's still legal. 

Now, I am the person who will be tucked away in the shade at the beach, under an umbrella, with SPF 125. Why? Because my ancestors came from ScotIreEngland, Home of the Vampires. We don't do sun. I've accepted it. 

4. Tons of junk food ruins my life.

There were multiple occasions in college - no one really needs to know how many - that I got out of bed at 11 and went to Waffle House with my buddies. My standard order was: a double order of hashbrowns, double covered; egg and cheese sandwich on white; side of grits and a chocolate chip waffle. 

And I ate every bite.

Recently, Jordan and I went to Huntsville for a wedding. We ate McDonald's for breakfast on the way out of town, had Mexican food at Rosie's for lunch, then, after the reception, swung through McDonald's FOR A SECOND TIME to grab some late night. 

I felt like I had eaten bricks. And I felt like that for a week. 

The first night I met Jordan was at Birmingham-Southern's homecoming event. We met, talked for about 5 hours, and then I convinced him to go with me to grab everyone some late night food. We drove through Wendy's, where I ordered a sack of 7 or 8 Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers. When we got back to the fraternity house, only 6 were eaten. That left two. 

I ate both.

All this to say, I've prided myself for many years on having something of an iron stomach. My brother is blessed with the same condition. But now? Now, I'm old. I'm washed up. I can't anymore. It's hard, but for the most part, I've had to break up with eating constant junk. 

For anyone who is still 20 and can do this without consequence or weight gain:  

5. Relationship games are a thing of the past.

Oh, relationship games. How much I loved you. How fun you were. 

You guys know what I'm talking about. The, "Will he text me back?" "Do you think he'll ask me out?" "I'm not going to respond for another thirty minutes so he doesn't think I'm too available." "Will you ask his friend to ask him if he's seeing anyone?" 

Yeah. 

I like to think Jordan and I are still keeping the mystery alive. There are definitely certain things that are still private - for example, we are not the couple that continues a conversation while one of us is using the bathroom by leaving the door open - BUT. There are lots of comforting things about being married that don't have anything to do with leaving the bathroom door open.

Here is a random sample of the riveting text exchanges that have happened in the last few weeks, which I think are as far away from "games" or even "interesting" as two people can get:

Or this: 

Or, how about this? 

Or how about this charming information? 

Actually can't believe I posted this one, but there ya go. 

Listen - marriage is the best. It is really, really nice to be done with the early 20's portion of my life, when I spent a lot of time wondering who I'd end up with, and instead, actually spend time BEING with that person. Jord is my teammate and I love every second of it (except the occasional day where we want to kill each other). This high-five-from-a-distance gets done a lot in our relationship: 

And it's just what 20-year-old MC dreamed about. 

Have such a happy weekend, friends!