Sorry I have been MIA this week- I've been watching my two girls get TOO BIG for words...Lets start with O:
This sweet little smile:
Has become this:
She can officially sing the "All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth" song! It makes her look WAY too old (tear...) And then Miss Morgan Jane is now big enough for...BABY FOOD! We gave her a little oatmeal a'la applesauce and she liked it okay. What she really liked was the spoon. 'Swiped it every chance she got. Luke thought it was so funny that she was eating real food. He sat by me the whole time mesmerized, and now thinks that any applesauce in the house is off limits, "NO! That's Moe-gin Jane's applesauce!" AND THEN! Guess what Miss Big 'N Hot did today!... YUP! Rolled over! Look how proud she is of herself! She's so funny. So of course, I had to flip her back over and have her do it again (-mostly to prove to myself that I hadn't put her on her belly to start and just forgot...Sorry, I'm so busy some times I don't know if I'm comin' or goin'!) Yup- she can really do. Now starts the fun task of having to go flip her back over every time she's decided that she has had enough "Tummy Time"...Joy.
I was joking with Lysh the other day, that I could write a post everyday about something weird I found somewhere weird. Maybe its the Wall-E DVD the fridge, or a half-eaten cheese stick in my wallet...but, seriously, it happens. Like this morning...
Take a look here:
(Don't you love the early 80s angel ornament- probably as old as me...Miss O is a big fan. )Anyway, see anything unusual? No? Lets get a little closer... What? What is that? What is that little thing stuck in the branches of our Christmas tree? It is Luke Palmer's sock! I don't even want to know how it got there. I have quit asking about things like this. But I'm telling you- Something else will happen like this tomorrow!
He's doing much better today. Has complained a lot out noises being too loud, but I am sure his head is hurting like all get-out.... Poor guy. (For one more day. We have a 48 hour post injury bratty behavior allowance. After that the "give-me-what-I-want-right-now-'cause-I'm-hurt" routine will be nipped in the bud.)
This is what happens to Mommies who turn their backs for 2 seconds to search a rack for earmuffs that their oldest child requested that morning while letting their two year old who loves to zip zippers stand in the back of the shopping cart and reach a liiiiitle too far to zip a zipper on a red velor hoodie that was calling his name.
This is what happens when you turn your back for 2 seconds and the precious head that you so lovingly grew in your belly for 9 months meets the metal rack on the floor of the Wal-mart and all you can think to do is get ice ICE!!! and you run to the frozen food section and grab a bag of peas to put on that precious head while you are quickly loosing all sense of time and direction and you have to call your best friend to tell you where to go after you have abandoned your cart of groceries (but remembered to grab the baby) and are are hauling ass down the street going nowhere while your child is alternating screaming and passing out while you are crying in panic.
This is what happens when you turn your back for 2 seconds and end up spending the morning in the ER, having to tell the story of how you let your child stand in the back of the cart unsupervised for 2 seconds! so they fell and ended up with a baseball sized contusion to everyone that comes in to check him out while they are trying not to make the "Holy, shit!" face, even the sweet CAT scan guy that then makes you hold down your already upset child while they stick him in the very big and scary machine to ensure that his brain is not bleeding and you then wait for an hour to get the results freaking out every time he moves or turns on the gurney for fear of him falling again.
Oh, Mommies, have I learned my lesson. How I feel like 2 cents for every time I have said to myself, "Geez, that lady needs to watch her kid!" as they are leaning over or sitting on the edge of a shopping cart. Today, I was that lady. Let this be a lesson to us all- it takes 2 seconds for something horrific and scary to happen. I have learned mine and am hoping my heart will start beating normally again sometime soon.
P.S. Thanks Lysh. I would still be driving down Preston if it weren't for you.
May I have a word with you? Yesterday I dolled my sweet children up in there red and white best, loaded them all into the car and braved the 20 degree windchill weather with promises of seeing you: The Great Santa Claus.
Humph! Or should I say, "Ba Humbug!"???? When we approached your beautiful carousel-like set-up, I saw Miss O's eyes get wide with excitement. I whispered to Luke- who had NEVER met you before- "Look, Bubies, do you see him?!" and I saw Jason's happiness that there was NO LINE! We had you all to ourselves! But then the playfull fun of it all went out the frost covered window. I found it a little off-putting that the first thing your "elf" asked us was what size photo package we would like to order. Nothing says The Joy Of Seeing Santa, like forced consumerism! And when I asked your elf if we could just see you and take one of our own photos since they are so expensive, she replied with a festive, "Yea, but ONLY 2." When she turned to you and told you we were "just visiting", I did not know this was Santa Code for "They are not paying us, so don't act like you care about them." My children came up to you bouncing with joy and you didn't even speak to them above a whisper! You didn't ask them if they had been good boys and girls! You never once inquired what they wanted for Christmas! Because the experience was quickly becoming a merry ole beating, I asked them to just sit with you so I could take your picture and we could leave. I guess because I wasn't paying $46.97 for a 5X7 photo, you were unable to see me and therefore didn't know where to look, because the photo I took has you looking off in the distance. I was so frazzled by the whole experience that I forgot to even put our newest addition in the photo too. But, then again, what would have been the point? I would have hated for your grumpiness to leave an imprint on my precious baby's first Christmas. I will have you know that because of the way you acted, I was bound and determined that my children would see a HAPPY SANTA, and I told my husband that we were going somewhere else. This of course led to the hissed discussion behind their little backs, of how are we going to explain Santa being at two different places at the same time. You are SOOOO lucky that Olivia is still 6 and believes in Santa with all her might, because the one word answer: Magic, was enough for her. I simply explained to her that having all that magic can sometimes wear a Santa out, and I guess that was just the case with you.
I am ho-ho-happy to report, that my husband knew not to fight the "Seeing-Two-Santas-Within-30 Minutes-Of-Each-Other-Is-Insane Battle", so we joyfully loaded our sweet children back up in the car and hauled holiday ass through the blistering cold to the beautiful glowing beacon in the night called The Shops At Willow Bend so we could get there before their Santa left for his snack of milk and cookies.
There we found the REAL Santa. The one who winks at you when he sees you waiting in line! ("Mom! Mom! He saw me! He winked at ME!" 'Makes me teary just remembering it.) The one who KNOWS YOUR NAME by the time you sit in his lap! The one who smiles and give you kisses on the cheek! The one who knows all about Pet Shops, and knew that a Thomas was Thomas the Train! The one who compliments you in front of thier parents, and comments on what a great kid you have been all year- because HE'S been watching! The one that wears a REAL frickin'-frackin' Santa suit! With jingle bells on the boots! And "Claus" embroidered on the belt! I gladly paid this guy $20 for a picture with him and my children because he made their day. I am enclosing this photo so you can take a moment to notice the crazy happy smile on Olivia's face and how sweetly he is holding Morgan's little chubby hand. You might want to take a lesson from his guy, he's the real deal and we will being seeing him every year from now on.
Our sweet Miss O was kind enough to pen every one's Christmas lists for them. Including the dogs. I was cooking while she was doing this and she left them on my desk when she was done, so I didn't really get to read them until last night. Nothing is cuter than her (inherited) creative spelling and the items she felt everyone needed. She did not feel the need to ASK anyone what they wanted. I guess she assumed she knew them all well enough. Have a peek (you'll have to click and enlarge them so you can really read them...)
1,000 Points if you guess one correctly for each "kid"!
Sorry, Bubs, number 4 is not gonna happen. We don't believe in giving highly addictive drugs for Christmas... If you are a fairly new Mommy, you might get this one:
She added the top item last minute yesterday... Was feeling a little left out from the "boys"...
Will you please take a moment to notice how polite my child is: A "thak you" at the end of every list!! Please also take a moment to notice the slight kiss-up advantage she gave herself by adding not only an exclamation point, but a heart next to the "thak you" on her own letter. Hhhmmmm...
If Jason is feeling up to it after his 9th trip to the dentist this month, we might mosey over and see the old guy this afternoon. Should be fun!
So, I meant to write this yesterday, but was totally worn out, you'll see why.
Have you ever have one of those days, where when its over, you think: "Are you kidd-ing me?" So many crazy (embarrassing) things happened, I thought maybe if I shared them, it could make you feel not so bad the next time you have one, too. Here's how it all began...
I packed up my two little darlings, for a morning of errands with a grocery store finale. We headed out to JoAnns, where I got suckered into letting Luke walk. Damn it. Why? Why do I always let him win that battle? I know something will happen, but he pleads, and begs, says, "I walk riiiiiiiiiiiiiight here by Mommy", and he does. For 5 seconds. And then poof! he sees something that he has to fiddle with. This time it was the life size Nutcracker soldiers on display. He kept going up to them nosetonose and then backing up really quickly and yelling, "SCARRRRR-EEEE!!!" (while bumping into everything on the shelf behind him.) Once he finally rejoined me, I smelt something "scarrr-eee!" and promptly took him into the bathroom. I did happen to have a cart full of stuff, plus Morgan in her baby seat, so I just rolled the cart into the bathroom- riiiiiight as an employee was coming out of a stall. She gave me the stink eye, as I had brought "unpaid merchandise" into the bathroom, but seriously, what do you do in that situation? So she starts to wash her hands, while I am getting my diapering stuff out of my bag. I lower the changing station table, and Luke starts freaking out! He HATES being up on those, and in his panic, his little two-year old brain misfires, and he starts saying, "No! Don't hurt me Mommy! Don't hurt me!" as I am lifting him up on that thing. Guess who suddenly starts washing her hand like she is going into open heart surgery? That's right JoAnn employee-lady. Now she is REALLY giving me the stink eye. I keep telling him, "You're fine, your fine." hoping she won't promptly walk out and call CPS. Finally, he calms down, I change him, and she leaves. I figure I can go potty myself superquick with the door open so I can keep an eye on Bubs. I race in the stall, race out and wash both our hands. We continue our shopping, and I keep getting weird looks from people. This one lady was the worst- she wouldn't even enter the ribbon aisle while I'm there- she just keeps looking at me weird. So I'm thinking, "What?!?!?! Did the bathroom lady tell the whole store that I beat my child while changing his diaper?!?!?" I am totally freaking out, so we leave. I load up the car, put the kids in and I am burning up. So I take off my little trench-like jacket only to realize that in my haste to pee, the belt sash that I had tied in a cute little bow in the back HAD FALLEN IN THE POTTY! They were soaked! I had basically walked all over JoAnns with a peepee tail. Nice.
Shaking off that embarrassment, we head to Wal-Mart, where I insisted that Bubs ride in the cart while I had Morgan in the Baby Bjorn. We are shopping along, when I notice that every time Luke's sees an old man, he looks at them and say, "Aft-ta-noooon" in this very silly voice. Some think this is cute. Others do not- they give me looks like, "What is up with your kid?". I soon realize he is quoting the preview for the new Disney movie "Up" that is shown before Wall-E.
Anyway, we keep shopping and Luke is getting restless and sillier by the minute, and we are stopped in this super crowded aisle, when this sweet little old lady stops to say hi to him. What does he say back, you ask??? Hello? Hi? Buenos dias?!? Nope! He looks at her and says (yells), "Do the poop-y dance!" and dies laughing! (A little background: he has a CD of kid songs that has one song where they play crazy music and the kids all yell, "Do the GOOFY dance!" every now and then. Of course, Jas took this opportunity to make the song inappropriate (as always!) and taught Bubs to say poopy instead of goofy.) The poor women feels like she missed something because Luke is so proud of himself, and she asks me what he has said. Now. I should have been a little quicker on my feet here and made up something, but, remember: I am in get-through-the-store-super-fast-mode and I tell her the TRUTH! She looks at me like I am some sort of awful mother who obviously lets her child do some sort of bowel-moving-dance, and quickly walks away. UGH! So, finally, I am done and we get to the checkout line. Luke is yelling at me to open the box of Scooby-Doo fruit snacks he has managed to wedge out of the stack of groceries, Morgan is starting to fuss, I am trying to get some things on to the belt, but the women in front of me had a ton of stuff too. Obviously, she is a Wal-mart grocery shopping pro, having hit up the health asiles first because I notice that her pharmacy items are the last things left. I see she has those diet "shots" (you know, they look like little coffee creamers) and just to make small talk while we wait for the cashier to catch up, I causally ask her, "Do you find that those work for you?" YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HER FACE! It was a little "You nosy b----" mixed with a little "Oh my God, please stop talking to me. PLEASEstoptalkingtome!!!!" mixed with a little "Get me the hell outta here." Why you ask? Why didn't she just answer my innocent question? Well, I wondered that myself until I looked a little closer and realized those little diet shots where right next to a HUGE box of TROJAN CONDOMS! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure she took one look at me and my sniffling, crying children and probably wanted to either put them back or give them to me. MORT.I.FIED. Seriously. It was to the point that I did a little "Crazy Town"-laughing-crying-thing all the way home.
I did read a good quote today though: "Reality is so much more interesting than happily ever after." Is it ever!
She can officially sing the "All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth" song! It makes her look WAY too old (tear...)
BABY FOOD! We gave her a little oatmeal a'la applesauce and she liked it okay. What she really liked was the spoon.
'Swiped it every chance she got. Luke thought it was so funny that she was eating real food. He sat by me the whole time mesmerized, and now thinks that any applesauce in the house is off limits, "NO! That's Moe-gin Jane's applesauce!"
AND THEN! Guess what Miss Big 'N Hot did today!...
YUP! Rolled over! Look how proud she is of herself! She's so funny. So of course, I had to flip her back over and have her do it again (-mostly to prove to myself that I hadn't put her on her belly to start and just forgot...Sorry, I'm so busy some times I don't know if I'm comin' or goin'!) 
This is what happens when you turn your back for 
Sorry, Bubs, number 4 is not gonna happen. We don't believe in giving highly addictive drugs for Christmas... 
