The Votes are IN!

In an unexpected, explosive, win...it's Team MODAC with "The Last Supper"! Not only did they take "Best Overall" but also swept "Best Use of Peeps"! Congrats on your first entry! You've set the bar high...now let's see what you can do next year. Don't forget...you all have to set the theme for next years PEEPS Show.

Coming in with "Best Interpretation of the Theme" is Jackson with his "Jonah and the Whale" exhibit! Well done Jax!

It was close this year! Keep up the good work family! And all you PEEPS Show fans...tune in next year!

PEEPS 2014 - PEEPS in the Bible!

Hello Faithful PEEPS voters! It's time once again for the annual Wallace Family PEEPS Show! This year's theme was chosen by last year's winner, Travis. Now I know you're all wondering..."TRAVIS picked Peeps in the Bible???" Allow me to share the conversation with  you.

Travis: This year's theme will be PEEPS in the Bible.

Me: Huh?! Interesting. How are  you going to make a lude PEEPS show with that theme? I mean...I guess  you could do Adam and Eve or Sodom and Gamorah...but you'll probably have to tone it down.

Travis: Oh contrare sister! I  give you "The Song of Soloman". There is plenty of fodder in there!

Me: Well...well. Looks who's been going to Sunday School!

That being said we had a new entry this year from Macey's sister, Micah. Yay! Welcome to the fold Micah.

Now on with the show! As usual you will be able to VOTE in the "Comments" section. Please vote for 1)Favorite Over All; 2) Best Use of PEEPS; 3)and Best Interpretation of the Theme. Each PEEPS box is listed anonymously so as not to sway any votes. IF you know who did each box please don't share. We want to keep this as fair as possible. Other "rules"...you must use PEEPS and your show must fit within the confines of a shoe box. You can configure the shoe box any way you want...but it must fit in the box.

David and Goliath

 

Jonah and the Whale

Jesus Walking on Water

The Last Supper

 

Lot and his family fleeing Sodom and Gomorah

 

 

 

Noah and the Ark



 

 

PEEPS 2013!

Drum roll please....

It's the moment you've all been waiting for...PEEPS Show 2013!

I apologize for the tardiness of this post...but in between doing our PEEPS and getting this posted...we added a new member to our family...Bennett Christopher Wallace. He is now a month old and I think his mom and dad are getting into the groove of parenthood. Congrats to Trent and Courtney!

For those who doubt this is a serious competition I give you exhibit A:

My dining room table post PEEPS.

Now don't get me wrong...we have fun while we're doing it. I give you exhibit B:

Trent after a good dinner and a few glasses of vino...showing of his "tiny suit".

But I digress. I know you're all here solely to vote. So let's get on with it!

On to the PEEPS! This year we had four entries. I feel like I should probably just go ahead and concede this year to Team Houston...but we'll see what the masses have to say.

As usual there will be no names on the entries. You must vote in the comments section. You will be voting this year for 1st Place over all, Most Creative Use of PEEPS, and Best Interpretation of the Theme. This year's theme was Musical Geniuses.

Entry #1:
From the baby grand, to the pink flowery box, to the GLITTER and SPARKLE, this PEEPS show is FABULOUS.   Elton PEEP says...."Don't Go Breakin' My Heart" with anything less than a First-Place vote!

Entry #2:
A figurative interpretation of the Talking Heads classic tune "Take me to the River".    The peep has been transformed into a talking Bass fish that sings the song.

Entry #3:
The Mommas and PEEP-pas are at it again! But look out! Is that a ham sandwich in Momma Cass' other hand???

Entry #4:

YOU WANTED THE BEST, YOU GOT THE BEST!!!!!!!    The fire-breathing, blood spurting, ASS KICKING offspring of a demon chicken and a bag of marshmallows roasted by Hell Fire itself..... KISS!!!!!!!!!!   From the ebony stage, complete with glowing laser light show..... to the hand-cut vinyl suits, complete with Demon Wings and Axe guitar.  And authentic human hair, shed from the loins of unsuspecting virgins who get their panties rocked off.  This Peep Show definitely knows how to ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT, AND PARTY EVERY DAY!!!!!!

 Peep Stanley on rhythm guitar.

Peeper Criss on drums.

Ace Peepley on lead guitar.

and GENE PEEP'n SIMMONS on bass!!!!!

 

 

Happy Voting! May the best PEEPS Show Win!

I've learned...

….that declarations of love and adoration are only good when you WANT to hear them.

In matters of dating I’m a cynic. I’ll openly admit that. What I won’t openly admit is that I’m also a closet romantic. My favorite movie of all time is “When Harry Met Sally”. I love the witty banter. I love that the two main characters start their relationship completely annoyed with each other. I love that Sally’s friends are constantly pining for love…and that secretly she is too. I love the cinematography of NYC in the fall. But most of all, I love that they actually get together in the end. I doubt that movie would have been nearly as good if they had both gone their separate ways but still been “friendly”.  If she had gone back to President Ford’s son or if Harry had continued to sleep his way through all the single women on the Upper East Side it would not have made it on my “Best” list.

Secretly pining for love is clearly NOT the subject of Disney/Pixar’s new movie “Brave”. I saw it recently because I’d been told it was the best one yet. I loved the premise of the story…”young princess is faced with finding her true self when her parents try to marry her off for the good of the kingdom.”

I like stories about self-reflection. I also like stories about princesses. But I really like movies with British/Scottish/Irish accents. So I was excited about seeing this movie. I’m not gonna lie. I left the movie feeling a little gypped. Why? The story was good. The animation was state of the art. The music was catchy. I left that movie unsatisfied because there wasn’t a “prince”. She didn’t wind up in the end with anyone. Sadly, the closet romantic in me craves the girl-gets-boy happy ending and this film just didn’t deliver.

***Snip**Snip**Snip** - that my friends is the sound of Susan B. Anthony, Margaret Sanger, and Gloria Steinem furiously cutting up my Feminist Club Card.

Where I’m going with this long movie intro is here:  I’ve had raunchy luck with men and yet I still hold on to that faint (and somewhat tarnished) hope that true love is out there and all good people are entitled to finding it at least once.

Don’t get me wrong…I love men. I have two younger brothers that crack me up, drive me crazy, and inspire me all at the same time. They “get” me. I also have a wonderful father who I’m sure keeps thinking…”someday Sissy-pie will find a nice guy who will spray her house for bugs and trim all her trees so I can stop doing it.” I appreciate men.

So why it is so challenging for me to find a sane one to date is beyond me, but I keep trying. The hopeless romantic in me keeps plugging away at it. I go on blind dates. I go on double dates. I try online dating. I’ve even let my mother set me up for crying out loud. But to no avail.

The latest debacle was promising at first. We were mutually paired on an online dating service. We exchanged emails and texts then a few phone calls. We moved on to meeting for drinks. I feel like meeting for drinks is pretty non-committal and nearly fool proof. I mean, if things aren’t going well at least you didn’t waste much time and you got a drink or two out of the deal.

We decided to meet in Stillwater because I was there on a Saturday for sorority business and he was going to be there for a friend’s engagement party. My first red flag should have been when he told me who the friend was and I immediately thought to myself…”Ew! That guy’s a douchebag!”  The second, and more glaring, red flag should have been when he unjokingly asked me to come with him to the party because he didn’t want to go by himself without a date.

We met for drinks at this cute little wine bar. By the time I got there at 8pm he was already (clearly) several Jack & Cokes into his evening. The guy, who we’ll refer to from this point forward as Short Stop because he played HS baseball, was not unattractive. He was a nice size for a man his age (43) and seemed to keep in good shape without looking like one of those gym-rat-idiots who compulsively flex their biceps. I sat down and ordered a glass of wine. He ordered another J&C (I’m guessing #4). We do the preliminary chit chat. I asked about his family, school, etc. He nervously played with his swizzle sticks. I continued to ask questions. He never once asked about me. His collection of swizzle sticks continued to amass so I ordered another glass of wine.

We are now a little over an hour into drinks. And let me clarify that I don’t consider that a “date” because there was no food and he didn’t officially “ask” me out. I have literally only known of this man for a couple of weeks. I’ve actually known him less than it takes my dishwasher to do a load of dishes. So you can imagine my surprise when he clumsily grabbed my hand and said enthusiastically…”I have a really good feeling about you. I really hope you’re my last first date.”

Now the sound he would have heard, had he been remotely sober and not 4 sheets to the wind, would have been the same sound anyone in earshot of our conversation heard….that of screaming tires plus the rancid smell of burnt rubber as I metaphorically sped away.

About that time I started plotting my exit strategy. I hit the ladies room for a breather and an emergency gal-to-gal talk with myself in the mirror. I needed to work out whether Short Stop was just being very sweet and open and I was being a cynical bitch OR (and this was far more likely) he was sugarplum-fairy-CRAZY and I was simply reacting like any sane woman would. I deduced that I was indeed NOT the crazy one and strolled out to announce that it was time for me to leave.

As I approached the bar I noticed that he was building something, Lincoln Log style, out of his swizzle sticks. The fact that he had enough swizzle sticks (and thus enough J&C in him) to actually construct a structure was beyond unattractive.

“Wha-cha building there?” I asked like an idiot.

“Oh…just our house,” he awkwardly laughed. “So where do you see yourself living in 5 years?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said I. “Probably in the same house I’m in now." My subtle attempt at informing him that we would most certainly NOT be setting up house together in the next five years seemed to fall on deaf/drunken ears so I plodded on.  "So! Are you ready to go? I’ve got to get up early tomorrow to teach Sunday School,” I lied. Side note – I vow to start teaching Sunday school soon so the Lord doesn’t strike me down for using that as my get-out-of-a-date-early card.

Short Stop stumbled me to my car. I asked him if he was okay to drive home. He assured me he was as I leaned in for the sideways “nice-to-meet-you” hug. He clearly misinterpreted my side hug as a sign of affection and decided to plant a big kiss on me. And here’s where this became a debacle.

Short Stop wasn’t a half bad kisser. In fact, he was pretty good. Good enough to elicit a skeptical 2^nd date.

More on the 2^nd date later, but for now I’ll leave you with the wisdom gained from this encounter: Had we been dating for several weeks and I’d had the opportunity to get to know him when he wasn’t drunkenly building houses with his swizzle sticks his “I hope you’re my last first date” declaration might have seemed sweet and maybe even endearing. However, on a first meeting it just seemed creepy and not just a little desperate.

I've learned....

…that you should never take credit for someone else’s victory.

I love the History Channel. Not the crap they have on there though with rednecks fishing for alligators or “noodling” for turtles. I have no interest in that business. However, give me a weekend of Revolutionary War documentaries or anything involving WWII strategies and I’m in nerd heaven.

Last week was the 4^th of July. While most people spent Wednesday morning icing down their beer or getting the homemade ice cream started, I spent the morning curled up on my couch with my coffee watching the first of 12 hours of Revolutionary War documentaries. I didn’t get to see all 12 hours…but to my nerdy relief…found that you can download it from Netflix.

Most of the episodes focused on General George Washington and many of his ill-fated early battles. They went into gory detail about how under-funded our rebel army was and how completely over our heads we were when it came to duking it out with the greatest military presence of the time. Much of what they highlighted was either stuff I never learned about in school or had just simply forgotten.

However, out of the many generals they talked about that I didn’t remember at all…one name came up that EVERYONE knows…Benedict Arnold. This man’s name has been vilified and added to the list of those found in very specific realms of hell along with Judas, Hitler, Nero, etc. Does the guy deserve to be a part of that infamous list? By the history books he was one of the most notorious traitors in our country’s history. What many of the history books leave out is that he was also a highly decorated general in the continental army. He was instrumental in securing the fort at Ticonderoga, he went into debt by donating so much of his own money to “the cause”, and had it not been for his daring leadership the battle of Saratoga would have gone a different direction.

Sadly, throughout his military career Benedict Arnold had been consistently “passed over” for promotions by congress in favor of more politically essential war heroes. At the battle of Saratoga, General Gates not only wussed out and nearly cost us the battle, but later went on to take credit for Arnold’s wise move and ultimate success on the battlefield.

Watching that made me ponder…”Would I have reacted in the same way if my loyalty had been brought into question and the credit for my success been taken by someone else?” In my professional career I have always made an effort to acknowledge the successes of others. I pride myself on being a team player and putting the success of the team above my own personal success. Has it hurt me? Of course! I’ve been stabbed repeatedly in the back by people I thought were friends or at least team-mates. I think as a woman it’s difficult to feel entitled to “toot out own horns”. We’re raised to be demure and unassuming. Boys, on the other hand are raised to relish in their success and tout it…without being a braggart of course.

My point here is this; I’ve learned to never take credit for something I didn’t do or for someone else’s success. By taking someone else’s well deserved, and hard earned, credit you cannot know just how quickly you’ll turn a great patriot into a hated traitor…just ask Benedict Arnold.

I've learned...

…that no matter how“safe” your world is if something happens to your mom...you get worried.

My mother is quite the social butterfly. She was never in a sorority in college and has spent the last 40 years of her life making up for that. She is in every possible “social sorority”, church group, and book club they have in Ada America and this spring she started a Bunko club (because she clearly didn’t have enough to do).

She has lived in Ada long enough to either have taught everyone’s child at school OR know them from when my brothers and I were in school. There isn't a baby shower in Ada complete without her name on the invitation as a hostess nor a wedding sufficiently celebrated without Debby energetically "shaking it" on the dance floor at the reception. She is a five foot-three inch ball of scatter-brained energy…and everyone loves her.

Every year when she gets her new calendar for the year…she takes the old one and transfers all the “important” dates onto her new one. Now for most of us that consists of birthdays and anniversaries. For Debby Wallace that encompasses birthdays, anniversaries, the day that I wrecked my Prism in 1996, the day my brother, Travis, won MVP at the Wrangler Bowl in 1997, the day baby brother Trent graduated from medical school in 2007, my dad’s retirement party in 2010, the day the Pyrex dish exploded in her had in 2010, and various other random family facts.

She is the gal you go to when you can’t remember your address from 12 years ago because she’ll have it written down on some random calendar. She remembers all the names of my friend’s children and pets and remembers to ask about them, sadly more often than I think to ask about them.

She sends me “single awareness day” (aka Valentine’s Day) survival packs and always remembers my dog’s birthday with a box of cookies and a new toy.

Some of my greatest memories of childhood are running up the long driveway from the school bus, bursting through the front door, and smelling the familiar scents of freshly vacuumed carpet and snicker doodle cookies hot out of the oven. Those were the days mom was a stay-at-home-mom.

My mother is a caregiver. When I was schlepping through the months of chemotherapy after being diagnosed with colon cancer, my mom was at my home every treatment weekend. When I could eat…she’d cook. When I couldn’t…she’d make runs to Walgreen’s for ginger ale. When I was tired…she’d clean my house. And when I was awake and alert…we’d watch movies or read People magazines.

I’m used to my mother always being in good health and taking care of everyone else. So when she called me this week to let me know she had been in a horrid car wreck that had totaled her car, my heart immediately took an elevator drop to my stomach. Hundreds of questions zoomed through my mind, not least of which was…”are you okay???”  Although she was highly medicated and still a little shaky from the experience, she assured me that she was indeed okay.

That sudden increase in my blood pressure and immediate feeling of dread that something bad just happened to my momma was a reminder to not take her for granted. It reminded me that no matter how safe I feel in my little cocoon of a world…that in the blink of an eye it can all go south.

But my mother, always the selfless lady, made sure to let me know that while she was being worked up by the EMTs she was taking note of which cute firemen and EMTs were NOT wearing wedding rings. Oh mom…***sigh***.

2012 PEEPS!!!!

***This post has been edited from it's original version.***

Well, as many of you may be aware...I broke my foot about 7 weeks ago. That being said, I received the following phone call Saturday afternoon whilst trying to sneak in a quick nap at my child-free casa.

Me: Hello?
Mom: What doing?
Me: Napping.
Mom: Well I just wanted to call and let you know that everyone here (at Trent and Courtney's) has decided that due to your foot we are not going to do PEEPS this year.
Me: Uhhh...the fact that I have a bum foot does not negate the use of my hands. I can still do my PEEPS box.
Mom: Well...we've just decided this year since no one brought boxes...
Me: Bullshit!
***Click***

Considering the fact that Lawson ate all the Orange PEEPS I was going to use for my "Pregnant Snookie" PEEPS in the News box...here is what we were left with this year.

I salute Jackson for doing his very first solo PEEPS Show this year. In sticking to the "PEEPS in the News" theme this year...Jackson did an aerial view of the deck of the Titanic.

You'll notice the deck chairs and the one PEEP that has been shot. Jackson is nothing if not a stickler for details. He wanted to make sure that we all knew that during the abandoning ship phase...some peeps got shot.


Yet another view of the Titanic. From here you can see the water lapping just over the bow.











Considering the fact that we only have two entries this year...we will not be holding the annual PEEPS SHOW VOTING. But feel free to leave any comments you like.

As I stated earlier, Lawson was hog-tied and force fed my orange PEEPS that I was going to use for "Pregnant Snookie" by Uncle Trent in a last ditch effort to persuade me to NOT do the PEEPS this year. However, after 3 years of doing it I realized we had a responsibility to our fans. So I quickly changed direction and worked with what I had at hand. Arguably it is not the best PEEPS Show ever...but you do the best with what you've got. And in that vain I present to you..."The Royal Wedding"...

You'll notice Princess Catherine and Prince William on the balcony of Buckingham Palace just after the ceremony. To her right she has two little bridesmaids. Clearly Pippa is not in this photo as it would have been a little too risque to do a PEEP in her notorious bridesmaid dress.



From this vantage point it might be difficult to see that no detail was over looked...down to Prince William's receding hairline.








Well folks, there you have it. The Wallace Family PEEPS Show 2012! Please tune back in next year for what everyone promises to be a FULL family affair for "Rock-n-Roll PEEPS"! Watch out for laser light shows and smoke machines next year!