Too funny to not share

So I was taking Stella to dance last night and because of the crazy amounts of snow we have had lately I was having a really hard time finding a parking spot.
One, because her dance studio is in Uptown which is small, home to a college campus, busy and has mostly street parking.
Two, because apparently people loose their freakin' minds when it snows and cannot appropriately judge distance between parking spaces without the aid of the white lines (which are still somewhat covered with snow). So, even in the parking lots without the lines it some how becomes okay to park diagonally in the parking space.
I was making my third loop around the block and trying to make a left. Traffic cleared and I started my turn when some ass flew out of his spot on the curb and cut me off.
This is the conversation the followed.

Me: Jesus Christ!

Stella: (leaning forward from the back seat trying to see out the front window) Really? Is it him?!?

Me: What?

Stella: Was that really Jesus Christ? I think I saw him too.

Me: Laughing.

Ok. So I don't typically cuss in front of the kids and I try really hard not to take JC's name in vain, but this cracked me up. She was so serious and so excited.
I tried to explain what had happened, but she was just really focused on her Jesus sighting.


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The 4year old boy I watch is pissed off because I won't let him play the Wii all freakin' day. He is taking it out on the dog and his sister.
He keeps pushing the dog off the couch and 'accidently' hitting him. I wish the dog would at least growl at him
I am about ready to knock him in his silly 4 year old noggin.
Just another example of why 4 seems to suck ass.
He is also watching Diego and he keeps call him a "not knower", and bitching about how much he has to help Diego do everything.

All about her

This is the very happy kindergartner on her 'All about me day.' She loves days that are all about her. Very. Very. Much.



This is the family in which the Mom is pretending she is not really irritated with the Dad for being late to the 'All about me day.' After all, it's not about her.




This is the boy who insisted on helping make the life size portrait of his sister and then complained the entire time that I clearly loved her more than him because he clearly remembers that we spent way less time on his life sized portrait 4 years ago. Oh, and I purposely made his lips ugly and girly in his portrait just to be mean.


This is the portrait. I think it's kind of cute. Um, sideways but cute.


This is a close up of the curly hair which the kindergartner protested about, as she felt long straight hair would be more reflective of who she really wanted to be.

Daisy Girl

I just dropped Stella off at her first ever Daisy Girl Scout function. She was so excited she could barely contain her adorable little 5 year old body.
I am already much more keen on Daisy Scouts than Cub Scouts.
Stella's first event is the 'Spa-spectacular'. The girls dressed in jammies and the older girls are doing the little girl's nails and toes and giving them glittery hair and such.
When I dropped her off there was a line up of older girls waiting to escort the Daisy girls back to the 'spa'.
They were polite and sweet.
They had fancy spa music playing and everyone looked too cute.
This is a far cry from Cub scouts.
At Cub scouts the boys wrestle and punch and laugh at each other's bodily functions.
Their events consist of things like 'The Cold Toes Camp-out'. Their favorite song is 'Great Big Globs of Greasy, Grimy Gopher Guts'.
I have told Caleb and Miles that I will do my best to make it to this years 'Cold Toes Camp-out'.
Who am I kidding. I am not a girly-girl, but if I have my choice of camping in Ohio in February or going to a girly spa night, you can bet your sweet cheeks I will be getting my nails done by some 9 year old Girl Scout.
Maybe next year boys!

My daughter has that crazy ability to always know just what to say..

Today I was feeling a little tired and bloated. Still on a mission to use the air conditioner as little as possible, I was feeling a bit hot and sticky as well.
So there I was, tired, bloated, hot, sticky....when Stella asked me for help squirting ketchup from our ridiculously large ketchup bottle onto her plate.
I helped her out, cause that's what I do and she said, "Mom. I love you. You are as strong as a hippo."
This of course sent the boys into hysterics and Miles kept repeating through his mouth full of food and giggles, "Mom's a hippo."
As strong as. Let's not leave that out of the sentence thank you very much.
That's me. Super Mom. Strong as a hippo.
Oh, she makes me laugh, that silly girl.

Pierced Ears

When Stella was all of 3 years old, she started asking to get her ears pierced. I told her she could get them done when she turned the ripe old age of 5 years old. That seemed at the time to be way far off and I figured by then fear would kick in and we could wait even longer.
Not so much how it happened. The day that she turned 5, she reminded me of my promise from almost two years ago. I asked if she would want to wait another year and told her that it hurts, but she still wanted to get the earrings.
We made a trip to the mall for the big event with Dad and brothers in tow. She took her favorite stuffed cat with her to help calm her worries.


We requested that they do both ears at once, as we did not want to walk out of there with only one ear pierced. And I would have felt really bad if I would have had to pin her down for the second piercing. They did and were very nice.


This was the worst. She looked up at me and mouthed the words, "That hurts!"
I was glad Caleb was there to see this. He has been determined to pierce some part of his body for awhile. When he was about 6 years old our neighbor got her nose pierced. He was so fascinated that he walked around with a round gold sticker stuck to the side of his nose for days.
He is, thankfully, a bit of a pansy when it comes to pain. I think he will be holding off on any piercings or tats for the time being.
I felt horrible when I couldn't make the hurt stop. We ran right across the mall to the Disney Store and bought a new bathing suit. It helped us both.



Now she looks so old. Not quite my baby anymore. *Sigh*

Happy Day

Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Stella. Happy Birthday to you. Do you think she enjoyed that cake?

It is hard to tell from these pictures, but the morning of Stella's party she fell head over heels down our unfinished basement stairs and landed on the concrete floor. 911 had to be called. They sent all of the big fire trucks plus the ambulance. She was fine. She had a huge bump on her forehead. It was so big, it really just looked like she had a giant forehead. She has a dent in her forehead still today.

I love this little person. She is an absolute joy. She was so excited about her big day today. When we walked into her preschool classroom this morning, they all yelled "Happy Birthday." Made her day.

Just one more Piece

This is my Daughter.....




This is my Daughter on crack Easter candy....



Any questions?

Low-brow Comedy

Sometimes life calls for low-brow comedy.
I discovered one of Stella's 'bath-time' babies next to the toilet. Clearly, it had not been explained to this baby doll that any area even relatively close to the toilet puts you in the line of fire. Hiding under or behind the toilet does nothing to ensure your safety from being sprayed by misguided streams of urine.
The baby learned her lesson the hard way. She had a very urine soaked head. It was dripping down her painted face and pooling around her neck. It appeared to even possibly be an intentional direct hit. To make matters worse she also appeared to have developed some black mold inside her water logged legs.
I made the solid decision to throw her out. End her time with us. I did not have the resolve it was going to require to wash the urine from her lovely crimped hair. Black mold frightens me. Away she went.
Of course, I forgot to bury her deep enough in the trash can and Stella found her.
I heard her shriek from the bathroom, "Mom, someone put my baby in the trash."
She was pulling the baby out of the trash can big tears starting to flow down her cheeks. The horror that someone would think to stick her baby in the trash!
Through her tears I explained what had happened to the baby. How she had been left in a less than sanitary spot. That being anywhere within a several foot radius of the boys most frequented toilet.
The tears didn't slow.
In a desperate move, I went for the low-brow comedy routine.
"Aw, don't cry for baby pee pee head, she is going to a better place where no one will pee on her ever again."
Stella laughed, "Baby pee pee head?"
"That's her new name."
We laughed. We talked more potty talk. We discussed the grossness of boys. We threw out baby pee pee head without anymore tears.

More Thoughts From The Beast

Caleb received an unsolicited 'pep-talk' from The Beast. It went something like this.

Caleb: "Mom. I am hideous. Why did you make me brush my hair? It's hideous now. (hideous, is Caleb's new favorite word to use when describing his dreaded hair)
Me: "Caleb, your hair is fine. I know you don't believe me, but someday you will like your hair. I love your hair." (Caleb's hair is the best shade of red and curly. Someday. Chicks will dig-it.)
Enter The Beast.
She sizes Caleb up from head-to-toe. I am waiting for some nice words, because as much as she is a stinker, she loves to dole out compliments.
Beast: "Caleb, we think you are handsome on the inside and that's what really counts."
Me: Suppressing laughter at the look on Caleb's face as a result of his sister's 'pep-talk'



This is Caleb and Stella during a moment when they were getting along. I never imagined that two kids could butt-heads as hard as these two often do. I love that she is wearing her pink tutu and he is wearing his baseball shirt in this picture. They are so different and yet so much alike.

Pretending to be Kitties

Stella and Miles are fascinated with Myrtle's ability to sit in the window sill or perch on the arm of the couch. Our only pet before the kitty and the pup was a big dog. He wasn't perching on anything. They like to pretend to be kitties.


On this day I came downstairs to find the bunch watching their cartoons like this. I thought it was funny.