tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53729532024-11-01T05:37:45.250-05:00Thoughts, comments and general insight from my little corner of the worldMeghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.comBlogger345125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-48565761675744159622014-02-25T14:13:00.000-06:002014-02-25T14:13:43.060-06:00

Hi. Yes, you there in the corner of the internet. The one that was brave enough to click on the link or that swears you saw a pig flying by your window. And you probably did - as is evidenced by the fact that there is a new post on my blog. Its not that my brain has stopped working for oh, roughly a year or so. I have been posting little snippets of how the redhead brain works on

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-37299127187265098542012-09-07T20:04:00.000-05:002012-09-07T20:04:40.343-05:00

It's been 5 years today since I last talked to my mom. 5 years. 1825 days. I won't bother with the hours, its too many. Tomorrow marks the 5 year anniversary of my mom passing away. And I promise, this will probably be the last one of these that I do. There is something about this milestone, if that is even the right word, that has a sense of weight to it. Like, I have made it this far,

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-75727921897764200592012-08-25T22:16:00.001-05:002012-08-25T22:16:44.890-05:00

I am sure that the utter shock to each of you that there is something NEW posted here is sorta more than you can handle. And for the record, there were 3 posts that I have started that are out there in half-finished draft form. Not that you will ever read them, as I am not sure where I was going with any of them after re-reading them. There are many things that I could probably talk/vent about

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-62221746037154236622011-10-15T14:20:00.000-05:002011-10-15T14:20:27.719-05:00

I watch a lot of TV. Probably too much. My excuse, for what it is worth goes something like this. I used to spend too much time out and having drinks. Or seeing bands. Or having drinks and seeing bands. Now, not so much. So the void had to be filled with something. And no, laundry doesn't count as an acceptable alternative. Back to the TV. We have a pretty heavy rotation of reality programming in

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-48756799847738135042011-09-08T08:47:00.000-05:002011-09-08T08:47:44.680-05:00

Four years ago today my mother passed away. It seems so weird to write that … for many, many reasons. I still remember every facet of that day in seemingly oddly crisp detail. Not sure that time will diminish that memory in any way, shape or form. But I would be kidding you all if I didn’t say that not a day goes by that I don’t miss the hell out of my mom. And I don’t think that I have some

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-35977444372532908032011-08-30T10:12:00.000-05:002011-08-30T10:12:03.183-05:00

I am not a morning person. Never have been. I have distinct memories of my mom and dad spending hours (or so it seemed) trying to get me out of bed for whatever event it was that I was supposed to be attending (school or church probably). I never took 8 AM classes in college, and still roll into work around 8:30, even though I swear I am coming in earlier to get work done. My kids haven’t changed

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-19571541613786519372011-08-18T09:33:00.000-05:002011-08-18T09:33:45.132-05:00

I have never lived on a farm. Never lived near one. Never owned livestock. Closest I think I can claim is horseback riding lessons that I took when I was in elementary school. I think that is an important fact to start with. In fact, I could probably count on one hand the number of friends that I have that grew up in a considerably rural surrounding. I say this now because even though it’s the

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-17694318484139751032011-08-04T12:51:00.000-05:002011-08-04T12:51:35.945-05:00

I know that I often (ok, practically daily) bitch about my body. Too fat, too short, too…whatever. Mostly fat, but that is besides the point. The point is that I have no qualms about bitching and moaning about a few things I dislike about my body that are ENTIRELY in my control to change. I am just lazy. And I like sleep. But that doesn’t stop the complaining. Fairly certain that I have

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-22668041889881083432011-07-20T13:57:00.000-05:002011-07-20T13:57:32.711-05:00

The Gaggle. That is the moniker that Joe has given to my group of girlfriends. Honestly, it could be worse. I am sure. And I know there is part of him that just cringes every time I go off for a get together with the girls, because save a pillow fight in our underwear (which for the record, NEVER happens boys) he knows that most of my time will be spent taking his name in vain, along with all

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-63573173497777577112011-07-15T10:31:00.000-05:002011-07-15T10:31:16.636-05:00

I know everyone wants to work someplace “cool”. My experience has led me to believe that there is a disproportionate amount of not-cool places to work, which means that most of us will end up in a job at a place that may have shades of cool, but probably isn’t you know, Google or Pixar. I work at one of those places – the disproportionately not cool ones. Not for trying, I made it through 4

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-89120751500465926532011-07-01T14:27:00.001-05:002011-07-01T16:18:51.012-05:00

I’m not sure what would be easier, killing a bear or stealing a cowboy’s spurs. -Joe McConville, roughly 11:30 PM, June 27th, 2011 as we are driving into the Gusto parking lot from Colorado. And that is how we ended our trip. So now that I have your attention, let me set the stage for the last few days of my life. Us Iowans are always coming up with new things to do in the winter. And trust me,

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-2546909219756306052011-06-10T13:26:00.000-05:002011-06-10T13:26:27.707-05:00

My blog on a regular basis does not deal with serious topics. At least not seriously. But today was one of those gut-check moments for me. So if you are here in search of the usual snark and blather, might want to check back another day. Today is a little more from the heart than usual. People are fond of saying that parenting is the hardest job on the planet. And then couching it in terms of

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-44991081627038238332011-05-31T14:08:00.000-05:002011-05-31T14:08:46.529-05:00

Joe has this little term he likes to use when we are in one of those “dear God, I might just lose my mind if I have to do ____(insert parental chore here) any more with these screaming kids” Making memories Meghan, making memories. Like somehow I will look back on this moment in the distant future with a halcyon haze and think to myself “those were the BEST days of my life”. Although the idea

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-4795600644085587512011-04-27T15:09:00.000-05:002011-04-27T15:09:22.647-05:00

I had one of those nights last night, where I was left with a small shard of sanity. And it is that very shard, that I felt the need to share. Background. Last few weeks have been nutso. Family stuff, birthdays, Easter, more family stuff, work, oh- and two kids that are conspiring to not sleep through the night. I mean, why should they? They both knock out 2-2.5 hours naps each day, so what’s

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-44697397697721091242011-02-04T14:23:00.000-06:002011-02-04T14:23:57.609-06:00

Been a bit since we have chatted. Hope all is well. Here in the snowy-wonderfullness of Jan/Feb in Iowa, the weather continues to be a hot (pun intended) topic. It’s the STORM OF THE CENTURTY SNOW-POCOLYPSE SNOW-MAGEDDON You get the picture. The weather people in this area should get Emmy’s for hyperbole. They could give Stephen Colbert a run for his money in that arena. Regardless, in my

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-43282870123371619922010-12-30T13:55:00.000-06:002010-12-30T13:55:31.214-06:00

Ok – lets talk turkey. Well, not turkey in a literal sense. That topic is SO 6 weeks ago.  Let me re-phrase: Lets have a down and possibly dirty conversation. And yes – if you are my parent or in any way or shape possibly offended, disgusted, embarrassed or otherwise made uncomfortable by a candid conversation about sex then STOP READING NOW.  Alright. Now that we have the

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-9027098533064270982010-12-22T21:47:00.000-06:002010-12-22T21:47:14.239-06:00

A few minutes of solitude before the sheer insanity of the holidays kick in - and I choose to blog during them. Total act of Christmas selflessness. I know that I should be blogging about the joys of the season, the spirit of giving and the reason for the season. Blah Blah Blah. Don't get me wrong, I do understand that Christmas is a a big deal. And it is. But my brain is sorta all over the

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-47189558398050332362010-12-07T22:52:00.000-06:002010-12-07T22:52:38.789-06:00

I had a really snarky post all planed for today. And I still will get it out there. Not to mention the "guest post" listed below from my beloved husband. I **had** planned on those things. And then I saw the news today about Elizabeth Edwards. Quite frankly, I was quite surprised that it affected me so much. Chalking up the fact that she passed away from the same thing that my mom did. She was

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-61209751571829169052010-12-07T22:32:00.000-06:002010-12-07T22:32:30.763-06:00

 My husband is the greatest man ever born. He is so sexy it hurts. I wake every morning thanking God He chose me to give life to Joe's seed. He is so hot I often see women drooling as they walk by. You may not know this but he actually turns down People magazine to be on the 50 most beautiful people list. This shows his down to earth attitude.    Joe isn't just a Prime USDA piece

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-71437266751350160202010-11-25T09:19:00.001-06:002010-11-25T09:30:20.240-06:00

I -- of course -- haven't been as good about my grand return to the blogging world. Regardless, I am here with the best of intentions. I think back on the many (and the "many" is getting exponentially bigger with each year) Thanksgiving's past. Back to the hand print turkey's that we all did in school. The Pilgrim outfits that each of you wore at some point in your fall presentations. The

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-17464929725865622882010-11-01T21:02:00.000-05:002010-11-01T21:02:46.454-05:00

I am not a science person. Never have been. I mean, I have a history degree with an English minor, so that should tell you something about where my strengths lie. So it comes as little to no surprise, that I am struggling these days to understand some pretty basic concepts. Key among them -- time. I mean, I am not a total momo - 60 seconds in a minute 60 minutes in an hour 24 hours in a day

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-62355039303149927042010-10-28T21:38:00.000-05:002010-10-28T21:38:32.413-05:00

So this one is gonna be pretty mom-centric. Check that, this one is gonna be pretty boob centric. The mom part is actually secondary to my afternoon. Yesterday at the end of the day I headed toward the mall. My wedding ring and engagement ring were ready at the jewelers Got them sodered (sp?) together and they look great. Right across from the jewelery store is a Motherhood Maternity store.

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-83546714647626942572010-10-27T13:59:00.000-05:002010-10-27T13:59:36.083-05:00

Yeah. Hi. It's Meghan here. Not the Meghan of old. Alas, my reader (if there is a single one left), my swinging, rock-star, devil-may-care, snark-a-licious single days are now "officially" behind me. And therefore, I present to you RedHead Ramblings - the re-launch. I am now a a little older, a little heavier around the middle than I care to admit, a  married woman (details later) and

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-65406310268442236262010-03-12T19:48:00.006-06:002010-03-12T20:25:22.763-06:00

AP News, Hollywood, California:This news just in, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has added a late breaking Oscar to the already announced winners from the award show last Sunday.Meghan Smith, has been awarded the Oscar for the "Best Performance by an Exhausted Middle-Class Mother" Said a representative from the AcademyAfter long consideration, the Academy felt it was time to

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5372953.post-12614778059534054242010-03-08T19:58:00.002-06:002010-03-08T22:34:02.177-06:00

In case you missed the memo, I am getting married.You didn't know that? Really?Surprise, surprise.But we are. And of course, we are having a big, fat, Irish, catholic wedding.Which means we had to meet with the priest before they would commit the date to us. So we did. Now - let me lay this out for you.Catholic = old school.Catholic = guilt laden.Catholic does NOT = living together with your one

Meghanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17107029744529779991noreply@blogger.com0