T = TREY

My husband: Trey.
His full name, for those who are unaware, is Jean Thomas Skaggs, III. Jean is not pronounced like the jeans you wear. No, it is much for french. Like John with a twist. I am told when he was a young child in Louisianna (cajun country) his teachers called him "Jean Thomas" pronounced "Jahn Toe-Mas". When he gets in trouble I call him Jean, pronounced like blue jeans. He hates it.

Trey and I met back in 2003, I believe. It may have been 2002. Doesn't really matter because apparently dear husband does not remember meeting me. Yeah, so much for that "love at first sight" crap.

I will set the scene:

We met at The Journey, which is a college United Methodist Church retreat. It meets 2 times a year and students from all over the state go for the weekend. It is so fun. So we were both on staff at this particular time. I, a sophomore in college, and Trey, a senior at USM, were both in Jackson at our half-day staff meeting.

I see his name tag: "TREY SKAGGS" and walked proudly up to the cute guy in scrubs playing the guitar (nevermind the fact that I remember what he was wearing and he doesn't even remember meeting me. Pathetic, I know)

"Hi" - I said, probably too enthusiastically. "Are you Trey Skaggs?" (duh, it was on his name tag, stupid.) "Are you Adam's brother? I have heard so much about you."

"Really?" says the overly confident college student. "That's funny. I have never heard of you."

AWESOME.

That was the end of our knowing each other for about a year.

Fast forward a year. Trey and I have a mutual best friend, Russell. He is fabulous. I love him. Anyway, Trey is now a youth minister in Atlanta and I am a junior at State. He is, once again, on staff for the Journey. He stayed the night with Russell in Starkville on his way back from his Journey meeting in Jackson to break up the trip. Russell called to see if I wanted to go out to dinner with him and his friend 'trey skaggs'. Whatev. The kid doesn't even remember me. But I went. And we hit it off.

The rest is history. We dated long distance for almost 2 years. When I was a junior at State, he was in Atlanta, then my senior year he moved to Hattiesburg to get his masters. We did spend summers together in Maine. It was just fabulous.

After our first 'date', if you can call it that - Russell was there -, I called my dad and told him I was going to marry Trey Skaggs one day.

Just to make me look a little less desperate, I will share this part of the story: After our first dinner with russell that fateful night, Trey asked him about me and Russell's response was: "Heather Tomlinson? You don't stand a chance. " OK, not his exact words, but close enough. I like to bring that up from time to time.

Trey is a wonderful, wonderful man. I am so very blessed. First and foremost, he puts up with me. I think my daddy told him it was a full-time job. I would probably agree. But Trey does it with a smile. I love him more today than the day we married. Trey is just fabulous. I mean, he proposed to me at the exact place my daddy proposed to my mommy. That is sweet, friends.

So now you know the story of us. Trey and Heather

S = Sophie

S is for SOPHIE.

My beloved dog, my other love of my life. She is my malte-poo. Except both her mama and daddy (by birth) are malte-poos, so we (I) refer to her as a malte-malte-poo-poo.

I know everyone says their dog has the best personality, and that's sweet and all, but the truth be told: Sophie really does.

Trey and I were married in June of 2006. Trey is a deer hunter. I have strict rules when it comes to this hobby of his, however. No wild animals (dead or alive) will be brought in our house. No guns will be cleaned in or near our house. And never, under any circumstances, should an animal be killed, stuffed, and mounted only to live in our home. No, friends, that is clearly off limits.

So our years are divided into new seasons. Trey has "deer season' and 'bow season' and I have 'open toe shoe season' and 'holiday shopping season'. Match made in Heaven, people.

What does this have to do with Sophie, you ask? Easy. The first "deer season" came along a few short months after our wedding bliss and this particular newlywed was not a happy camper. He was leaving me to go wake up at the crack of dawn to sit up in a tree somewhere and wait for his chance of possibly seeing a white-tail mammal? It made no sense to me.

So I did what all good wives do. I complained. I nagged. I begged for a companion. If he was going to go sit in the woods and read (yes, he reads in the woods) then I was surely going to get something from it.

Being the naive newlywed that he was, he agreed to drive 20 minutes outside of Hattiesburg to 'look' at a brand-spanking new maltepoo a nice family was selling. He told me we were only going to 'look' and there would be no buying on this particular trip. I smiled sweetly and nodded, but knew in my heart of hearts we would be leaving with a brand new puppy.

We walked in where a 3 lb furball met us at the door. It was love at first sight. I picked her up, took one look at her and declared her name "Sophia Isabella Bernstein-Skaggs". She was mine and I knew it.

Trey, not wanting to cause a rucus, took out his checkbook and paid the nice little family as I craddled Sophie like a baby and planned future days at the park.

1 year and 7 months down the road, Trey is so in love. With me, of course, but also with the little brat we call Sophie. She is a diva and loves to kiss.

I can already picture some of my readers looking back at her name: "Sophia Isabella Bernstein-Skaggs". Dramatic name for a maltepoo, i know. Truth be told, Trey and I worked several summers are a camp in Maine for girls. Most of the girls at this said camp were Jewish. We (I) thought Sophia Isabella Bernstein sounded like a camper at our beloved summer home away from home and we (I) should name our dog accordingly. So we (I) hyphened the last name with Skaggs and we had a name: SOPHIE.

I love her.

Sophie, sleepy.

Sophie, cuddling with her daddy.

Sophie, modeling her pink parka.

R = Real Simple (and really cute pictures!)

I love the magazine Real Simple. I await for it's monthly appearance in my mailbox with great anticipation. Once I get the latest edition, I quickly go through the pages, looking at all the pictures. Then, when I have the perfect amount of time, I go through and read the magazine word for word. I love it.

Funny thing is, my home is not 'real simple worthy', even though I cut out articles about organizing, decorating, hosting, etc...

My goal (aside from being Snow White at Disney World) is to have everything in my home - my LIFE- Real Simple.

I highly recomend this magazine - it's just a great read.

Also for R - some Really cute pictures from the weekend! My birthday extravaganza was fabulous. Friday night when Trey and I got there we all went to City Bagel for amazing pizza and wine. YUM-ME. Then back home for presents and strawberry birthday cake. So fun.
Saturday we just played hard with Henry. He is so much fun.

Kristen, we missed you!!! The life of a doctor required her to stay in Jackson to deliver babies. But her sweet husband and oh-so-cute son came for the celebration.

So fun!

Me and Laura at City Bagel
Henry eating with his Nana and Lita!
Trey, me and Aunt Stephanie at CB
Look at that face. He was mid-sentence.


Walking with his 2 aunts. He loves to hold hands.
Pulling Nana in the wagon! I love this picture.
Waving to all the people driving down the road. Friendly kid.
Pulling his wagon.

I had the best weekend! I have the most wonderful family!!

Q = quarter-life birthday

I am leaving today after work and heading to Starkville to celebrate my quarter life birthday with the fam. I can't wait. I simply love birthdays. Not just mine, but all birthdays. But let's face it - I love mine the most. Call me selfish.

I love strawberry cake with cream cheese icing. and cards. and opening gifts. and I love it when people sing the happy birthday song to me. You know how some people get embarassed when they get sung to in public, like at a Mexican restaurant where they stick an oversized sombrero on your head and shout a hearty "feliz cumpleanos, amie!" over and over? Well, I don't get embarassed. In fact, it is safe to say I love it when that happens.

Take my 22nd birthday. All my friends were celebrating with me at the Courthouse in Starkville (which is now Mugshots. Was it Mugshots then? Or the Courthouse? Can't recall) There was a girl there who was having a going away party with her friends. She was leaving for Mexico for study abroad or something. I don't know. All I know is that she had a sombrero on in honor of her travels south of the border. I thought this to be unfair. It was MY birthday party and MY birthday is on Cinco de Mayo. It was only fitting that I wear the hat, not the other girl. So Jordan told me to go take it from her. I am not sure if she was serious or not, but I took her very seriously. The next thing she knew I was be-boping back to our table wearing an oversized sombrero. I still have the picture of Jordan and me in that hat from that night in my office. It makes me smile. Lucky for all of you, I have a scanner in my office: Here's the picture

All this to say, I am pumped. I will be 25. That is half-way to 30. Not technically, I do know simple math, but it is half-way between 20 and 30. So I officially feel old.

Just kidding. Never. I will never feel old. Write that down.

Mama - put on your party pants and birthday hat, I am coming to town.

P = Passport

No, I don't own a passport. And yes, I am embarrassed of this fact. I have always wanted to be one of those really cool people who have numerous stamps in their passports, each telling a different cool story, from all their adventures around the world. But in the words of Mick Jagger, "you can't always get what you want".

I went to Quebec for a week one summer while I was working here, but didn't need a passport. We drove across the border. I will stop here to add that I tasted my first French crepe on the said trip. It was simply divine and I think about it almost daily. But that only confirms any doubts about my love for good food - it has little to nothing to do with the passport post.

Anyway, for our honeymoon we went to a Sandals in Jamaica. There was a tropical storm the whole time we were there, but that is also besides the point. The point is this: no passport was needed in 2006 to go to where the weed flows freely.

I have also been to several fun places in Mexico, and yet again, I was able to cross the border (via ship or plane) with little or no trouble.

Side note: Here is a picture of a trip with about 8 of my girlfriends in college. We were on some island. We paid about $20 bucks to rent a golf cart from a little man on the side of the road. We then proceeded to ride around the island (on roads with crazy drivers) going about 15 MPH. Looking back, I am not promising this was a smart decision, but it was oh so fun.

( i am the one in the blue skirt, 2nd from left, striking the really prissy pose)

I learned earlier today I am going out of the country for a meeting in the fall.
Destination: unknown.
(I am really pushing for China. Apparently we don't do business there. Who knew?)
All I know is I need a passport. I am just so excited.

Finally - I can become a legit traveler.

O = Operation Story

I saw this on The Today show and could not believe it!

Ever been worried about how you will explain your new nose, breasts, or tummy to your young children? No fear! "My Beautiful Mommy" is here!

It's a new children's book that explains what happens when your mommy has plastic surgery.
What?! I read Berenstain Bears!

This books helps little children understand that mommy's bandages won't last forever and that while she loves her daughter's nose, her nose is a little large, or breast too small, tummy too squishy...

Really, people. I don't lie.

Please, click here to read a few pages.

N = numerous birthday shout-outs

This is a week for birthdays! And you know I love birthdays.

My Daddy's birthday was yesterday. He is such a cute daddy. The first man I ever loved! He went on his annual beach golfing trip with his friends - what a fun birthday! He came home last night, hopefully there was cake awaiting. If I had anything to do with it, there would have been cake. I get to see him this weekend. Trey and I are going to Starkville. I can' t wait. Happy day-after -your-birthday, Daddy!! You are my favorite! I love you so very much!Daddy with baby henry last winter. Most pictures we have now include Prince Henry in some form or fashion.

Today is Treeeeeeesssssssshhhhaaaaaaaa's birthday. Or, Mrs. Butts, as her student's call her. Only some of her students are embarrassed that her name is Butts, so that call her simply Mrs.

I like that, Mrs.

We have shared so many wonferul memories together - she has a sense of humor unlike anyone I have ever known!
So, Mrs., I hope today brings you tons of joy and happiness!! I love you, friend!

Tricia, in her bridal element, nearly 2 years ago. I like throw back pics

Tomorrow is my sweet Mother in-law, Peggy's, birthday. It is also Earth Day, which is a perfect day for Peggy to be born. Her garden is immaculate. It has been featured in magazines and newspapers. She sometimes gives me plants and flowers for my yard. They are dead within a week. What a disappointment I must be.
I could not have hand-picked a better mother in-law for me! We have fun when we are together and she understands my need for long, undisturbed, naps when I visit. Hope tomorrow is wonderful, Peggy! I love you!

Peggy and Ronnie last Christmas at the garden in Mobile. I need more pictrues of you, Peggy. Take that as a fair warning. I will be following you around with my camera from now on.

Thursday, the 24th, is my brother in-law's birthday. Adam is Trey's little brother. I knew Adam before I knew Trey. We are closer in age than Trey and me - for exactly 1 week we will both be 24. I love him. He makes me laugh. Do you know him? It's a bit of a shame that I have gone this long on the blog without talking about my dear BIL. As I had a bit of trouble locating pictures of sweet Peggy, the task to do so for the BIL was quite easier. So much I could say about him; however, I think pictures do a better job. I searched through his photos on the trusty Facebook and found quite a few I could have posted, but becuase this is a family blog, I will choose wisely. (just kidding Peggy. Angel he is) I feel like my readers do not know this person in my life, so I will add more than one picture for your viewing pleasure.
Happy Birthday, ADAM!!! I love you!!!

Adam, in a skirt, in the water. This was in Maine. We worked here together for 2 summers.

Adam, playing guitar. He's a weekly show in a number of places here in the 'burg. Skaggs & Co. is his band. And yes, Skaggs & Co. is written on marquees around town.

Me and the BIL. Can you see the love?

Adam, dancing a jig

And last but not least:

Adam, still fratty.

M = Melita and Mommy

Obviously Melita and Mommy are the same thing. Well, maybe not so obvious if you do not know my mommy. Which, by the way, if you don't - you are seriously missing out.

(Mama and Daddy. I think they look alike.)

I remember very distinctly this one time I got lost in Wal-Mart. I am somewhat a scatter brain now...I am assuming the same goes for a 5 year old Heather. Anyway, the Wal-Mart lady noticed I was lost (I was in the sewing section) and asked what my mom's name was.
"Mommy", I sad. What a dumb question.
"Ok, but what is her other name?" - she said.
"Mama?"- I answered.
I knew all along it was Melita...I remember that very clearly, but it seemed wrong to say it out loud. She finally got me to say my mom's name: "Melita". It was the first time I called her anything but Mama or Mommy. It was clearly a defining point in my life.

Yesterday I talked about my sisters. I thought about including my mom on that post, as she looks (and acts) more like a sister than a mom, but decided she needed her own special day.

My mom is so beautiful...in every way. She is naturally beautiful on the outside, but also naturally beautiful on the inside. She has a JOY (hence her name: Melita Joy) that shines so brightly wherever she is. She lights up a room.

Through the years she has always put the three of us before herself. Her needs didn't matter to her as long as her 3 girls were taken care of. She is so very selfless. Growing up (even during the dreadful years of 3 dramatic teenage girls) I never remember her raising her voice. She has a gentle---patient--- spirit that I PRAY I have when I have I have kids. (Because Lord knows I don't have it now!!)
(the girls.)

She is the kind of mommy (is it bad that I am 24 and 349 days old and still call her "mommy"?) that makes the world a better place. When we were little she stayed home with us - she smocked our clothes (we dressed alike until we were probably way too old.), braided our hair, cooked our meals, drove us to practice (piano, ballet, softball, whatever) helped with our homework, took us swimming, everything, while at the same time being a wonderful wife to my daddy. She was (and is) a super mama. As we got older, she learned to let go and watch us make mistakes...but then picked us up when we would fall so hard without judging us - just loving us. She is our biggest cheerleader and honestly our best friend.

Looking back I can see that I was not as nice to her as I should have been. I guess I took her for granted. I can say with FULL affirmation that I do not take her for granted anymore. I love her with my whole heart and hope to be just like her when I grow up.

(My mom, the day Henry was born. there were plenty of chairs in the waiting room, yet when we looked over, she was happily coloring while sitting in a kid's chair. Ok, then.)

To know her is to love her. People always tell me what a sweet mama I have. I just smile and say "i know."

Now you know, M is for Melita - my mommy.

K and L

K and L need to go together. K is for Kristen and L is for Laura. My 2 sisters!

(Laura, me, Kristen - my bridal shower. Throw back picture. Kristen was pregnant in this picture. cute thing.)

The three of us are best friends...for real. Not trying to be like "oh my sister is my best friend" but really we aren't - you know the kind.

No, we really are best friends. I am sure some of you out there can attest to that statement.

However, I am sure it did not always appear that we were best friends

Scene 1

There was a time when we were all 3 teenagers. 3 teenage girls in one house. I am willing to bet money my mom and dad wouldn't go back to those years for anything.
Anyway, Kristen (the eldest) had a friend over. They were getting ready for a party. I (the baby) for whatever reason did not like this friend...and told her how I felt. (The friend, not the sister. I have no filter) This made Kristen mad and she proceeded to lightly tap (push) me down the stairs. I was not hurt, but made a huge scene like I had broken all bones in my body, just for dramatic effect.
Laura was probably hiding in her room...afraid. Sweet one.
Side note: i like that said friend now. It was apparently just a stage I went through in the 7th grade.

Scene 2:
Growing up I slept with Baby. Baby is a baby doll. I have had Baby my whole life and took her everywhere (including college). When Trey is out of town, I pull her out of my bedside table drawer and sleep with her, but that is another post all together.
Kristen and Laura used to take Baby from me and throw her down the stairs (do you see a recurring theme here?) This would make me cry, which only elevated the sense of satisfaction they were having from this fun game.
Many a fight was caused by taking Baby from me. Never mind the fact I was like 12.

But the good times far outweigh any bad times. Honestly, I can only recall a few times where we didn't get along...and they pretty much were all in those dreaded teenage years.

(The three of us, loving on the itty-bitty baby Henry, almost a year and 1/2 ago!)

Collectively, my 2 sisters have taught me way more than I ever learned in school. Things including, but not limited to:
1. Life is more fun when you have on new shoes.
2. Calories don't count when you are having a bad day, when you have cramps, on holidays, birthdays or weekends.
3. There is very little shopping and/or a glass of wine can't cure.
4. When in doubt, call your sisters to join you.
5. Celebrate birthdays big time.
6. It's okay to have more than 1 diet coke a day - sometimes.

We have shared so much together - from bedrooms to clothes (always) to KD...everything.
A day does not go by when I don't talk to at least one of my sisters at least once a day. Trey knew when he married me that I didn't come alone - he was getting 3 Tomlinson girls. We look out for each other (and take that job VERY seriously), love each other, make fun of each other, and have the best time with each other. I am so blessed to have them in my life!

K and L couldn't stand for anything except Kristen and Laura, my fun sisters.

J is for justifying photos

Here are a few pictures of the oil in our yard (see previous post) , or as I like to call them "Million Dollar Puddles".

Trey is convinced this will have little to nothing to do with our family finances - that if it is oil, we don't own the mineral rights to our home and it will more than likely not be enough to make a difference.

I like to disagree. I envision a mansion in my near future.

So for all you doubters out there, here are some (not all) of the oil spill puddles in our yard. My only regret is that I did not take the picture of the first morning - the bubbles were larger.