Every once in a while I stumble upon a certain remark or quip I say that infuriates Grace beyond belief.
Example #1:
Grace: "Don't bodder me. I'm not in a dood mood."
Me: "Oh Honey, you're just tired."
Grace: (head spinning around like little Regan on the Exorcist) "NO I NOT! I NOT TIRED MOM!!"
After an entire day at the pool, running errands, no nap, scorching triple digit heat, my girls will insist they aren't tired. They might be complete emotional wrecks, complaining and arguing, but "Mom! We are NOT tired!" For some reason it's something they refuse to admit.
You bet your ass they are tired. You bet your ass I'm tired!
Both Ava and Grace are pretty emotional, but Grace takes the cake in that department. She takes two cakes actually. Poor thing will cry at the drop of a hat. Terry calls her his Little Teacup. She's fragile and easily breakable. If we look at her wrong, she'll just fall apart...and usually, her emotions are at their peak after a bath. During a bath actually, she starts the meltdown process. I have no idea what it is with bath time, but I don't remember a day when she exited the tub without an attitude. It starts with "We wanna teep playing, no washing yet!" Then comes the "I don't like being wet!!" What is she, a cat?? What kid doesn't like getting wet?! Then it's "I'm told!" Then (while flailing on the floor, dripping wet and stark naked) it's "Why you not dressing me?? I'm feezing"!
Ah. Yes. Bath time. It's super fun.
Example # 2:
I'm a little teacup, short and stout,
Here is my attitude and this is how I pout.
When I get all pissed off you better look out,
Ask if I'm in a bad mood and I WILL SHOUT.
-Grace
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Scareapalooza | 1999 - Present
For years Terry and I have taken turns attempting to scare the living shit out of one another, then laugh hysterically in the other's face if we succeed.
It's true love people. True love.
Yesterday, I'm minding my own business, sitting in our office wandering the Internet, when I hear the door to the garage slam shut. Terry is walking toward me with the girls trailing behind. He presents to me (ONE INCH FROM MY FACE) a clear container housing a monstrous WOLF SPIDER. For a brief moment, I actually leaped out of my skin and came close to severing my spinal cord with the back of the chair trying to get away from him and the Furry Monster. Why must it have FUR?? And bunches of eyeballs? And stare at me with all of them while telepathically relaying the fact it's about to slither out of it's temporary habitat, jump across the room into my hair and burrow inside my brain?
Terry's up, one nuthin'.
I give the man credit, his patience and level of creativity with this game are exceptional.
Last summer I was outside in the driveway washing my car and came back inside sweating bullets. I approached the kitchen island and reached for the drink I had previously made. Upon lifting the glass to my mouth, I found a LOCUST'S EMPTY EXOSKELETON hanging by its crispy front legs from the side of my glass. I had no voice for the next two days as my vocal chords were shredded due to my responding with repeated violent shrieking. And hitting. There very well may have been hitting involved. Most likely. Probably.
He takes complete advantage of me. He knows bugs are my weakness. Even dead ones. I mean, who's to say they can't suddenly come back to life as you're reaching with toilet paper in hand to pick them up!? I just don't risk it. He's the Bug Getter. Dead or alive. It's in our marriage agreement.
Even my Grandmom has taken advantage of my fear of anything with more than 4 legs. She's chased me around with a cockroach in her hand, all six legs wriggling and wings flapping as I screamed bloody murder and threatened her bodily harm. She just giggled then flushed it down the toilet. I didn't pee for days.
Speaking of peeing... ha ha...years ago at our old farm, we had a little guest house we would hold birthday celebrations and summer gatherings inside. One afternoon, we were all inside the house when we heard my Grandmom scream. She busted out of the bathroom yelling that something had "brushed up against her" while she was using the bathroom. Uhh Muhh Gawd. We went to take a look and found a big ass water moccasin swirling around in the toilet. That would have kept me from using that toilet forever if that shit happened to me. Never mind that tiny cockroach. Heebie jeebies, much?
I have successfully scared the shit out of Terry only a handful of times. There was the time I jumped out of a dark hallway after he thought I'd long gone to bed. That got him good. RRREAL GOOD. He looked like an Olympic Gymnast leaping backwards at least 5 feet.
(I preface this next story with noting I have a slight obsession with Q-tips and use them everyday, pulling and twisting the end then attempting to feel the inside of my brain.) Terry and I lived together in an apartment while we were engaged and after us staying in and drinking a bit too much, I emerged from the bathroom with one of my trusty Q-tips in hand, blood running out of my ear and down the side of my face. I ran up to him and told him I'd shoved it in too far and felt something burst and was in excruciating pain. Knowing that he couldn't drive and I was in need of serious medical help, it was hilarious, and to date, my best scare yet. I allowed the fear simmer a little while before I let him in on my fun with ketchup.
To date, he has definitely won more Scare Awards than I have.
But that's okay because as much as I hate the game, I love it.
It's true love people. True love.
Yesterday, I'm minding my own business, sitting in our office wandering the Internet, when I hear the door to the garage slam shut. Terry is walking toward me with the girls trailing behind. He presents to me (ONE INCH FROM MY FACE) a clear container housing a monstrous WOLF SPIDER. For a brief moment, I actually leaped out of my skin and came close to severing my spinal cord with the back of the chair trying to get away from him and the Furry Monster. Why must it have FUR?? And bunches of eyeballs? And stare at me with all of them while telepathically relaying the fact it's about to slither out of it's temporary habitat, jump across the room into my hair and burrow inside my brain?
Terry's up, one nuthin'.
I give the man credit, his patience and level of creativity with this game are exceptional.
Last summer I was outside in the driveway washing my car and came back inside sweating bullets. I approached the kitchen island and reached for the drink I had previously made. Upon lifting the glass to my mouth, I found a LOCUST'S EMPTY EXOSKELETON hanging by its crispy front legs from the side of my glass. I had no voice for the next two days as my vocal chords were shredded due to my responding with repeated violent shrieking. And hitting. There very well may have been hitting involved. Most likely. Probably.
He takes complete advantage of me. He knows bugs are my weakness. Even dead ones. I mean, who's to say they can't suddenly come back to life as you're reaching with toilet paper in hand to pick them up!? I just don't risk it. He's the Bug Getter. Dead or alive. It's in our marriage agreement.
Even my Grandmom has taken advantage of my fear of anything with more than 4 legs. She's chased me around with a cockroach in her hand, all six legs wriggling and wings flapping as I screamed bloody murder and threatened her bodily harm. She just giggled then flushed it down the toilet. I didn't pee for days.
Speaking of peeing... ha ha...years ago at our old farm, we had a little guest house we would hold birthday celebrations and summer gatherings inside. One afternoon, we were all inside the house when we heard my Grandmom scream. She busted out of the bathroom yelling that something had "brushed up against her" while she was using the bathroom. Uhh Muhh Gawd. We went to take a look and found a big ass water moccasin swirling around in the toilet. That would have kept me from using that toilet forever if that shit happened to me. Never mind that tiny cockroach. Heebie jeebies, much?
I have successfully scared the shit out of Terry only a handful of times. There was the time I jumped out of a dark hallway after he thought I'd long gone to bed. That got him good. RRREAL GOOD. He looked like an Olympic Gymnast leaping backwards at least 5 feet.
(I preface this next story with noting I have a slight obsession with Q-tips and use them everyday, pulling and twisting the end then attempting to feel the inside of my brain.) Terry and I lived together in an apartment while we were engaged and after us staying in and drinking a bit too much, I emerged from the bathroom with one of my trusty Q-tips in hand, blood running out of my ear and down the side of my face. I ran up to him and told him I'd shoved it in too far and felt something burst and was in excruciating pain. Knowing that he couldn't drive and I was in need of serious medical help, it was hilarious, and to date, my best scare yet. I allowed the fear simmer a little while before I let him in on my fun with ketchup.
To date, he has definitely won more Scare Awards than I have.
But that's okay because as much as I hate the game, I love it.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Here Kiddie Kiddie Kiddie, Wanna Ride?
I took Ava and Grace to the mall this morning, along with two friends and their kids. We met in the kiddie 'playscape' area that consists of a 3-foot high enclosure with a slide too small even for The Little's, (remember them? weren't they cute?!) and a plastic car that only one and a half toddlers can fit inside.
All of us moms have been waaaaiiitttting to walk into our mall one day and see a BRAND NEW PLAY SCAPE! Complete with modern toys, a slide that can take more weight than a newborn baby, and I dunno, just some new shit! Rather than this old shit that's been there way too long.
We walked into the mall this morning and instead of seeing a new dreamy play scape for our kids, we see a brand new HUGE-ASS CAROUSEL. In the MIDDLE OF THE MALL. Directly NEXT TO the old-ass play scape. Sure, it's new. But it's also not free! Like our old-ass play scape we love to hate, but still use all of the time anyway because we are cheap and lazy and like to sit while our kids play.
I'm sorry, but you just can't meander thru a mall with children under 10 and attempt to pass right by a HUGE-ASS CAROUSEL without stopping. Children are spazzy, and will freak out and point all once to the enormous and completely out of place carousel and make you take them on it.
So now.... not only do us moms sit while our kids play on an old-ass play scape made for 10 month-olds, we are now forced to fork over money for an over priced dizzying spin around a merry-go-round.
We actually got a good laugh when upon entering the ride, we read some strict rules for 'proper riding'. Which included NO HIGH FIVES to other riders while ride is in motion. I'll admit, it was so much freakin' fun that near the end of the ride, I gave Grace a silent, tiny high five pat, while I was holding onto her. No one noticed. Thank God! I hope they don't review their surveillance video.
Our laughter quickly subsided when we realized that not only does this carousel have the run of the mill pretty ponies to choose from, it also gave you a choice between a demonic killer monkey from a Stephen King movie or a devil-red, pissed off wild boar. With tusks.
Who is the freakazoid that designed this thing? Not one single child rode on either of those creepy animals. The hellish monkey has forearms that are entirely too muscular and would most likely be used to rip off your face. And the devil-red wart hog thing is in mid charge - ready to flip you in the air, then gouge you in your heart on your way back down.
But... there was one amazingly pretty pony.
Although, The Freakazoid named her "Willie" for some strange reason, it appeared he gave her a few overnight treatments of Latisse for a bit of a lash boost. Just look at those lashes! So lush!
All of us moms have been waaaaiiitttting to walk into our mall one day and see a BRAND NEW PLAY SCAPE! Complete with modern toys, a slide that can take more weight than a newborn baby, and I dunno, just some new shit! Rather than this old shit that's been there way too long.
We walked into the mall this morning and instead of seeing a new dreamy play scape for our kids, we see a brand new HUGE-ASS CAROUSEL. In the MIDDLE OF THE MALL. Directly NEXT TO the old-ass play scape. Sure, it's new. But it's also not free! Like our old-ass play scape we love to hate, but still use all of the time anyway because we are cheap and lazy and like to sit while our kids play.
I'm sorry, but you just can't meander thru a mall with children under 10 and attempt to pass right by a HUGE-ASS CAROUSEL without stopping. Children are spazzy, and will freak out and point all once to the enormous and completely out of place carousel and make you take them on it.
So now.... not only do us moms sit while our kids play on an old-ass play scape made for 10 month-olds, we are now forced to fork over money for an over priced dizzying spin around a merry-go-round.
We actually got a good laugh when upon entering the ride, we read some strict rules for 'proper riding'. Which included NO HIGH FIVES to other riders while ride is in motion. I'll admit, it was so much freakin' fun that near the end of the ride, I gave Grace a silent, tiny high five pat, while I was holding onto her. No one noticed. Thank God! I hope they don't review their surveillance video.
Our laughter quickly subsided when we realized that not only does this carousel have the run of the mill pretty ponies to choose from, it also gave you a choice between a demonic killer monkey from a Stephen King movie or a devil-red, pissed off wild boar. With tusks.
But... there was one amazingly pretty pony.
Although, The Freakazoid named her "Willie" for some strange reason, it appeared he gave her a few overnight treatments of Latisse for a bit of a lash boost. Just look at those lashes! So lush!
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Barbie Styling Salon
Barbie's little sister, Skipper, goes to the salon for a haircut.
2007 Limited Edition "Skipper" Barbie
Skipper's hair extensions.
Introducing: The "Diva" Barbie!
Get ready for a FABULOUS time,with the NEW 2010 "Diva" Barbie
Featuring:
Multi-colored summer dress and matching shoes.
Large white hair bow. (Not pictured)
Insanely kissable cheeks.
Attitude for miles.
Also includes:
Pull-string with sayings such as: "Tan I have some tookies?" "Look! It's stinkling outside!",
and "I tan do it, I pumice I'll be tarefull."
Order now. Supply won't last.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
I'm Throwing Up My Hands In Disgust
I found the cutest bedding set on Friday at Target. I bought bright white sheets to go along with it and hurried home. I tossed everything into the washing machine then made our bed with it, and beamed with happiness at my purchase. It looked so great! Less than a day later, Ava puked all over it. She stumbled into our room at 1am, which is really out of the ordinary for her, snuggled up next to me, told me her stomach was hurting, then just as I could hear her gurgle, she puked all over the bed. I jumped up and tried in vain to hurl (hilarious pun) her around and point her projectile down toward the carpet. That didn't work too well and I basically shoved all of her hair into her face while she barfed all over our bed and floor. My vivid, bright white sheets and comforter were now soaked in regurgitated chocolate milk and macaroni noodles. Hey, I figure if I've gone this far with dirty details, I might as well take it to the end. I like to paint a picture for my audience. I'm artsy that way.
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