Mattel recently announced the release of several limited-edition Barbie Dolls for the Greater Memphis market

I received an email similar to this five years ago and filed it away.  I recently found it and laughed out loud.  I changed a lot in order to be applicable in 2011, but I kept some things intact.  You just can't mess with perfection.

I hope no one will be offended by the tongue-in-cheek stereotypes, but we sho

uld all be able to laugh at ourselves sometimes.  If you don't live in Memphis, it doesn't make much sense.  However, I'm sure you can accurately replace your suburbs with those mentioned because most Americans have more in common than we realize.

Six or seven more Barbies are being released soon in the Memphis market, including Orange Mound Barbie and Midtown Barbie.  Stay tuned!

Eads Barbie:

This princess Barbie is sold only at Saks.  Comes with a multi-million dollar house in gated community and another in Rosemary Beach - with wine cellars.  Condo in Beaver Creek, CO and fur sold in conjunction with stock-broker Ken.  Also available is Randy, the Home Decorator, who is impeccably dressed, creative and loves to shop.  Sold with or without yummy pool boy.  Your choice of Mississippi State or Ole Miss bumper sticker on back of Hummer.  Available with or without tummy tuck and face lift.  You won’t be able to afford any of them. 

Germantown Barbie:

This I-wish-I-lived-in-Eads Barbie comes with a 2-seater Mercedes and an optional new Lexus SUV to cart super-busy Babs, super-competitive Kenny Jr., and Baby Bo to cheerleading, football practice, and My Baby Can Read class.  Comes with an inconspicuous "love" tattoo on her ankle from a spring break trip to Destin in the 80's and a case of Chardonnay.  Optional home-gym so that she doesn’t have to go to the real gym with tight clothes that show her muffin top.  Sold with a semi-custom house with no furniture because Babs and Kenny Jr. attend a $15,000/year private school.

Houston Levee Barbie:

This modern Barbie comes with an assortment of the trendiest clothes from the clothing boutique she owns.  She comes with a gym membership and bathroom scale, a country club membership, her own Starbucks cup and a wine cooler of expensive Chardonnay.  Also available with this kit are Hutchison Heather and MUS Maddox, accessorized with LAX sticks.  Pregnant version is sold in conjunction with handgun and bottle of Prozac.  Augmented version sold only in conjunction with Workaholic Ken.

Bartlett Barbie:

The hard-working, big hair Barbie is available with Ford Windstar Minivan with 120,000 miles.  Comes with a Sam's membership card and a frequent diner card at the Western Sizzlin'.  This ingenius model sells Avon and pockets the profit before Ken sees it.  Available with or without box wine, bright blue eye shadow and home-perm kit .  This frugal Barbie comes with a one-story brick house with a half-built deck in the back while Electrician Ken comes with a fully-stocked tool box and a tricked-out truck.

High Heels and a High Calling

My last post explained that my husband and I recently hosted a huge event for my daughter's 15th  birthday. The celebration, called a Quinceañera, is a long-held custom in my husband's Hispanic culture.  It's a coming of age party, honoring the stage of a young girl's life in which she symbolically leaves behind her childhood and transitions into maturity.  One of the highlights of the reception is "The Changing of the Shoes."  In this time-honored tradition, her Father kneels down in front of her, slips off her flats and replaces them with high heels, symbolizing her transition into a young woman.  Then they have their first dance in her new high-heeled shoes.

I wrote the framework of the following poem when my daughter was two, and it still reflects her personality.  I never imagined this early, scrawling on notebook paper would call to me and evolve into a piece that would wistfully take me back to another life of Barbie high heels, bows and little blond pig-tails as she approached her Quinceañera.  As she grows, I hope her tenacity never wavers and her faith in God is able to move mountains.   I pray that her grasp of God's high calling in her life fuels her passion, fills her spirit with adventure and floods her soul with joy.


Worthy of Repeating:  Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did —except backwards and in high heels.

High Heels and a High Calling

My little girl—

She was sent straight from heaven 

in Barbie high heels—

the ones with the feathery foof.

I can hear her coming,

clack-clacking up and down stairs

and through mud puddles.


Pedaling a trike, she tackles hills
with the gusto of a Wall Street tycoon.
Pumping mightily, pig-tails flying,
she screeches through tears, "I can do it!"
That must be prophetic of her 
emerging personality—
Or maybe she's just two.

 She sings sweet songs in the night

to her bed full of babies 

who lie wonderously wide-eyed.

She doesn’t know it, but in her little heart

she holds the potential for the mightiest Power

on Earth or in Heaven—

a Mother’s love.

As a woman, she’ll pound the pavement 

of Denver or Dallas or Manhattan

with all the chaotic capitalism 

ingrained in her by her Daddy—

Trying out her wings in a great big world—

in her high-heeled shoes.

I know I’ll wish 

I could still hear her coming.

When my daughter encounters

the tempests of life,

 I pray she stands firm through the rain,

 raises her hands to Heaven,

and drinks in God’s power, 

for God tells of His love and His faithfulness

through the storms.

Right now God is forming her,

and He will help her understand

that her call as a woman is to nourish the Earth—

to give back deeply from her bounty,

touching everyone she sees

with a profound sense that, in her,

is Christ’s presence on Earth.

Cathy Cantu

Wet Towels and Womanhood

  I recently planned and thankfully pulled off a huge event for my daughter's 15th birthday. The celebration, called a Quinceañera, is a long-held tradition in my husband's Hispanic culture.  It's a coming of age party, honoring the stage of a young girl's life in which she leaves behind her childhood and transitions into a young woman.  It's very touching, but I wonder when this beautiful, young lady of mine will transition into picking up her wet towels off the bathroom floor.  One can always hope.

          A Quinceañera resembles a wedding—minus the veil and honeymoon.  I labored over the planning for nine months, and it prohibited me from submitting as many posts on this blog as I would've liked.  It was very stressful, but I brought most of it on myself due to my inherent personality quirks.  I stressed for hours about which font to use on the invitation yet forgot to tell the DJ what time to show up.  So, it's perfectly logical that I can remind my kids about their lunch cards in the morning but forget to pick them up from soccer practice. 

          Characteristic of me, I decided 24 hours before my event that the bling factor of the programs was insufficient.  My obsessive/compulsive Martha Stewart demon took over, rising like the Angel of Death in that Ten Commandments movie, from the tri-fold glossy flaps of my Mass program.  I imagined the programs kicked up a notch—ribbon, jewels, sparkly outlining.  You might as well just take me to Hobby Lobby and shoot me.  But not on Sunday, because every frazzled mom with an agenda knows HL is closed on Sunday.  

          Throughout the entire planning process, from deciding on a venue to hand-making the arrangement on my front door, I googled everything to death.  I not only wanted to find a great song for the dad/daughter First Dance, but I wanted to find the PERFECT song that no one had heard before—one that isn't played at every wedding in the world every Saturday night.  One morning after Youtubing songs for the First Dance until the wee hours, I plodded to the kitchen and plugged my IV into the coffeepot.  My bright-eyed daughter trotted up and simply said, "By the way, Mom, you know the Dance I have with Dad?  I want to play "My Wish" by Rascall Flats!"  If I could have a dollar for the number of times that's been played at wedding receptions in just the last month, I could've paid for the whole party.  That's why it's the first song that comes up when you google First Dances, for goodness sake.  She won.

          I spiraled through mazes of open tabs, googling ways to weave our "Aladdin/Moroccan" theme into the invitations, programs, color scheme, cake, chair covers, centerpieces and bouquets.  I scripted everything the priest and family recited in Mass, everything the DJ said, and every explanation of our symbolic traditions. To me, scripting every move meant a perfect Mass and reception.  But in reality, perfection often simply consists of a girl's adoring glance at her father or the surprise she feels entering the ballroom to the rousing applause of her friends.

          That night at the pivotal point of the evening, my husband knelt in front of his daughter and replaced her sparkly red Converses with silver high-heels, symbolizing her metamorphosis into a young woman.  She was beautiful, humble, a little embarrassed, and smiled like Cinderella as she danced with the first Prince Charming of her life—her dad.

          After a dance with her dad, brother and escort, the real party started, and the only thing my daughter had on her mind was Pit Bull and Taio Cruz.  We allowed the party to continue later than planned since everyone was having so much fun.  She stopped her father and me several times, gushing "This is the best party ever!"  That's all we needed to hear.  All the planning, all the late nights and meetings, and all the obsessing about perfection was worth it.  Never again will a party on such a scale be all about her.  Her next big celebration will include another Prince Charming. 

          As I hung up her beautifully beaded, heavy white dress, I visualized her perfect, dark skin, just like her dad's, and her beautiful smile.  I pushed the fluffy white tulle of her dress into her closet and still aglow with the warm fuzzies from a magical night, I silently breathed a prayer asking, "How could I ever be more blessed?"  I turned toward her bathroom.............The wet towels could be a start.  

Male Vs. Female Approach to ATM Drive-throughs

Please forgive me for stealing this from an old email I received.   It was so good I saved it, AND I could actually find it.  Enjoy!

A new sign in the Bank Lobby reads: 

“Please note that this bank is installing new drive-through ATM machines with updated procedures.  After months of careful research , MALE and FEMALE procedures have been developed.  Please follow the appropriate steps for your gender when using this drive-through facility.”

MALE PROCEDURE:

1. Drive up to the cash machine
2. Put down your car window
3. Insert card into machine and enter PIN
4. Push the “accept” button when you accept to succumb to the highway  robbery bank will charge as your “convenience fee” because they made stupid loans.  (I added that part)
5. Enter amount of cash required and withdraw
6. Retrieve card, cash and receipt
7. Drive off

FEMALE PROCEDURE:

1. Drive up to cash machine
2. Reverse and back up the required amount to align car window with the machine
3. Set parking brake, put window down
4. Find handbag, remove all contents onto passenger seat to locate card
5. Tell person on cell phone you will call them back and hang up
6. Attempt to insert card into machine
7. Open car door to allow easier access to machine due to its excessive distance from car
8. Insert card
9. Re-insert card the right way
10. Dig through handbag to find diary with your PIN written on the inside back page.  Dig through handbag for reading glasses to read PIN number.  Drop glasses between seat and console.  Wing it.
11. Enter PIN
12. Press cancel and re-enter correct PIN
13. Push the “accept” button (see #4 in Male procedure above)
14. Enter amount of cash required
15. Check make-up in rear view mirror
16. Retrieve cash and receipt
17. Empty handbag again to locate wallet and place cash inside
18. Write debit amount in check register and place receipt in back of checkbook
19. Re-check make-up
20. Drive forward 2 feet
21. Reverse back to cash machine
22. Retrieve card
23. Re-empty handbag, locate card holder and place card into the slot provided
24. Give dirty look to irate male driver waiting behind you
25. Restart stalled engine and pull off
26. Redial person on cell phone
27. Drive for 2 - 3 miles
28. Release Parking Brake.

Happy New Year!

          It’s a fresh new year.  Undoubtedly, we’ll hear choruses of “Happy New Year!” ringing through grocery stores, offices and the health club we just joined to work on our recent resolutions.  While the wishes are heartfelt and sincere, we realize the prospect of having a happy year is a long shot for some because of our uncertain economy.  We often wish we could make everyone happy.

          What would truly bring us happiness?  Losing weight, finding a way to finance college tuition, or perhaps getting answers to prayer?  Receiving answers to prayer can reassure us that the God of the universe actually hears and loves us.  But do we ever consider that “no” is also a loving answer to prayer?

  A few years ago when my daughters were six and eight, we were dutifully sweeping out the garage.  My youngest, Faith*, noticed that her older sister was wearing a new bracelet.

  “Where did Caroline* get that?” she asked, glaring at me.

“I picked it up for her when I was shopping the other day.”

Screaming ensued, and you would have thought I was ordering Cinderella to sweep the chimney while her stepsister shopped for the prom.  I could have stopped the tantrum and tears by revealing that I had ordered something very special for her birthday the next month, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise .  I bought Caroline’s simple bracelet the same day I ordered a beautiful, monogrammed bracelet for Faith.  In kindergarten, just learning to spell, Faith was enthralled by anything bearing her hard-to-find initial.

Faith stamped her Barbie sneaker, decreeing that it wasn’t fair.  However, I knew that waiting to let her open a beautiful, carefully chosen gift on her birthday would make her happier than giving it to her right then.  If she had only known.

Suddenly it hit me.  God spoke to me through a sobbing, snaggle-toothed little angel.  How many times have we thrown a tantrum about an opportunity, a lavish vacation or a special relationship someone else has that we don’t?  It’s just not fair.

My daughter didn’t know about the monogrammed bracelet that I had ordered to appeal to her heart alone.  If we only knew the custom-made blessings God is planning for us that eclipse our own imagination, then maybe we wouldn’t throw our 40-year-old tantrums.  Sometimes God’s “no” means “not yet.”  Perhaps He waits so that He can bless us more fully when the time is right.

So what would truly make us happy in the new year?  Probably kids who pick up their clothes, a small gesture of appreciation or simply time to do something we enjoy.  Those things may take a while in coming.  Maybe we should try to appreciate God’s loving “not yet’s” with their promise of increased blessings later on when we’re ready.  Like my six-year-old, we think we’re ready now, but we don’t know what’s around the corner.  Meanwhile, let’s look for the small miracles we see every day—after all, it’s just like God to open up that parking space.  It’s just like God to do something differently or let us fail.  And it’s just like God to suddenly turn a heart around.

Let’s look forward to a happy new year with anticipation and excitement about all God has planned for us.  But the kids picking up their clothes?  Don’t get crazy.

*Names have been changed

Teenagers and Cats

Noticed in my house: Teenagers are like cats. They love to lie on a pile of clean laundry that's not folded. Cats are drawn to it. Kids ignore it.

Enjoy LIfe!

Heard on the street:

"In your forties you try not to be obnoxious or annoying.  In your fifties you kind of enjoy it!

I like that one!  Agree?  Let me hear all the opinions of my friends in their fifties!!!!