I left out an entire thought

Okay, the book for the kid post - I just read the darn thing - I left out an entire thought. As in, "why can't you get Ten Tiny Fairies for Annie?" (not my Annie, my friend's DD is also Annie). Um, it's out of print.

My dear, sweet, lovely husband woke me up a few minutes after 3:00 this morning. I'm just a tad ticked off that I'm STILL awake at 5:30.  Headed back to bed to see if I can manage to get back to sleep.

Well darn that!

A friend of mine's child turns three in about a month. Last year for her birthday we gave her Goodnight Sweet Butterflies and I was thinking about giving her Ten Tiny Fairies this year. My girls loooove Ten Tiny Fairies, because it lights up on the last page and it's about all their favorite stories - Cinderella, Beauty & the Beast, the Little Mermaid, Thumblina, etc. Drat. Now I have to come up with another idea. Hmmm, I'm thinking maybe a Disney Princess Royal Nursery doll or Playset . I'm sure her parents would love me forever for THAT. ;) No, a book is most definitely the way to go. I'm thinking Goodnight, Gorilla. We love that one, too. Read it all the time, even when it's not bedtime. Other suggestions?

Things I like...things I don't

My whole blogging history is here. I can't just pack up and move like I thought I could. Soooo, maybe I'll keep them both because there are things I like about Vox. I can restrict who can read posts on Vox to no one but me, only those I've classified as "family", only those I've classified as "friends", both "family and friends" or "the world" -- and I can do that on a post-by-post basis.

There are things I don't like about Blogger - for example, since I'm on beta here I can't comment on non-beta blogs which are some of the blogs I most frequently read. I don't like that my blog has to be an "all or nothing" for readership. I can control who reads it - but it is my entire blog, not post-by-post. Not that I'm going to talk badly about someone but sometimes there are things I'd like to write about that I might not want just any old Tom, Dick or Harry (or Mary, Jane or Alice) to read. Guess that's when I deluge Rebecca with email that turns her screen blue, huh?

Oooops...we did it again

Brad is gone. E wanted mac and cheese for dinner. We have no mac and cheese in the house. Okay, let's go to Wal-Mart Super Center. Oh.My. I've lost my flipping mind. We only have a few minutes to prepare while I'm getting kids dressed and their hair in ponytails. What will we do while we're there? "Obey Mommy!" Will we climb out of the cart? "No!" Will we touch stuff? "No!" They don't look perfect, but Wal-Mart on a Saturday night, who am I going to see? Don't you know it - two people I went to high school with - each with their youngest child. My girls waited so patiently while I talked to Jeff and then again when I talked to Michele. They were a little less patient while I talked with Michele but at that point we were headed to the car and they were hungry!

I'm listening to Season 2 Project Runway podcasts. They did a marathon of season 2 on Bravo this past Wednesday so I got an opportunity to see it. I just discovered the show this season and love it! I've loved the drama on the show and can't wait to see what "bomb" they drop on Laura, Michael, Jeffrey and Uli this week and what they mean by they aren't firm (or however it was Heidi put it) on having three designers in the finale.

And man, can't wait for Top Chef. Loved that show last season!

Getting out of the house

Elizabeth has to take a photo of our family to school tomorrow for Show-and-Tell. We took a picture at my birthday dinner out at Mom & Dad's (well, actually we took a slew of them). I uploaded one to Sam's Club and ordered it last night to pick up today. Also had to buy some boneless, skinless chicken breasts while I was there. Decided that I'd try to brave it with all three kids. After all, this is how they learn to behave and what is expected of them, right? <>

All morning I'm prepping them that this is going to happen. All the way to Sam's I'm prepping them, coaching them on how they are to act. "Will we stand in the cart?" NO! "Will we touch things?" NO! "Will we obey Mommy?" Noooo...uh...umm...errrrr...ummmmm...YES! ;)

They were wonderful. Of course we were only there for about 20 minutes, but every little bit counts, right?

As a reward, they got a treat.

A new allergy

Katherine had a poopy diaper. She walked over to sit on the floor next to Elizabeth, who was laying on the floor watching The Piglet Movie. Of course, Katherine's stinky butt got near Elizabeth. I hear, "Mooo-ooomy! NinNin has a poopy diaper. You need to change it. I'm 'lergic to stinky booties."

Phew...

The word from my neighbor: "my monitor is rarely on as my son is rarely in his own bed, so no worries HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...still crackin up over here ;)"

Wild sex can continue. That's always a good thing.

A. Very. Good. Thing.

Baby Monitors. Was It Good for You, Too?

Okay, this past Sunday my next-door-neighbor and I were talking about baby monitors. When Elizabeth and Katherine were little, I had two monitors in the house - one in E's room, one in Nin's. Both receivers were in my bedroom. Occasionally I'd hear a baby crying and know that it wasn't one of my kids, or I'd hear a dog barking in my bedroom. I don't have a dog. I'd call Amy "Hey, C is awake" or "What are you doing to Sasha?" Sometimes I'd get a call, "Your singing is waaaaaay off key." (actually she never said that but she did hear me singing to the girls one day). Makes me worry, how much of my life has Amy had to overhear? Me pitching a screaming, cussing fit over something not going my way? She assures me she hasn't. And since her husband is a pastor, I'm sure he'd have counseled us if he'd heard me speaking harshly to my husband. ;)

Now, Elizabeth and Nin are old enough to get themselves out of bed and open their own bedroom door their monitor is gone. We're back to being a one-baby-monitor family. Annie is still in our room - and so the base for the monitor is in our room and the receiver is in the front of the house.

But...interesting choice of timing that particular Sunday when Amy asked me if we ever picked them up on our monitor anymore (no, we don't), because the night before I was definitely not speaking harshly to my husband but encouraging him that what he was doing was oh so right...there...oh...my...well, you get the picture. Afterward, I looked at the monitor base and said, "You know, I really hope Mark and Amy didn't pick that up on their monitor receiver. I'll die." He just laughed and said, "Good night, Mark & Amy" rolled over and went to sleep (such a man). I couldn't help but think, "What if our monitors are crossing again?" And then on Sunday, she asked if we ever pick them up on our receiver. Great...
so, Amy...fess up...did we just need to add the bow-chicka-bow-bow music to sound like a really bad porno?

Preschool

The first day of preschool went well. Elizabeth didn't cry, her mother did. When she kissed my hand and hugged me - oh my. I teared up and was thankful that Mrs. Janet whisked her away. I walked into the hall and started crying. Cried all the way to Starbucks and I'm sure the barista thought I'd lost my mind when I ordered my Decaf Pumpkin Spice Latte. Barista: "Are you okay?" Me: "Yes, I just took my daughter to preschool for the first time." Barista: "Ah, I bet she'll love it, Mom." Me: "I hope so."

And love it she did. And she didn't cry at all!

Ornamental Eggs

Katherine was "The Omelette" when she was in utero and before we knew she was Katherine. My aunt found a stuffed pig named Omelette when Nin was a baby and it's been with her since then. She's recently been very interested in everyone's and everything's name. Omelette has been no exception. "Mommy, what this name?"
"Your pig?"
"Uh-huh"
"His name is Omelette."
"Her is a HER, Mommy. Her is not a him."
"Okay then! Her name is Omelette."
"Ornament?"
"No, Omelette."
She walks down the hallway. "Ibiss, her name is Ornament. Her is a HER not a him. Ornament."

We're watching Food TV the other day and the chef (don't remember who) was making an omelette. Nin was sitting on Brad's lap watching the show.
I asked, "Nin, what are they making on TV?"
She perked up, grinned and said, "An ornament like my Ornament!"

I swear, if she weren't so dang cute, I'd sell her to the gypsies!!!!!

Our Very First 1st Day

Journaling reads: It’s hard for me to not journal about how quickly time passes. About how it seems as though Elizabeth was Annie’s size “just the other day”. But, the truth of the matter is that it DOES seem like just the other day my biggest girl was crawling around on the floor and I found myself shockingly pregnant again. It does seem like just yesterday that I would spend my days sitting on the floor reading books to my itty-bitty bug and taking pictures like there was no tomorrow. I can remember thinking “She won’t go to preschool for another three years. I know the time will go by quickly but it’s still three years away.” I didn’t have a clue just how quickly those three years would go - proving that there is a difference between ‘knowing’ something and KNOWING something. I am now intimately acquainted with how quickly the years pass. And I now fully grasp what my friend means when she says, “The days are so long but the years are so short. Oh, so short.”

As I send my three-year-old to preschool for the first time, and as I kiss her hand, I know that *I* am the one who really needs The Kissing Hand. I’m the one for whom this separation will be difficult as I now allow a new person to sit on the carpet and read my bitty-bug a story. I wonder if they’ll let me sneak in occasionally and take pictures - because tomorrow will come all too quickly.


Credits: Summer Brights - Amanda Rockwell - Elemental Scraps and Digital Freebies. Fonts: Love Me Avenue, Marker Fine Point.

Family

Elizabeth watching Daddy paint Katherine's room. We'd put the baby gate in the door so she couldn't get in there - but she'd love to stand there and watch Brad every night. She would talk to him (babble, since she was only 15 months old at the time). She was so excited when it was finished and dry and she got to go in there! She was so little...gosh, time really does fly.

Fonts: Pass the Chex, CK Journaling
Alpha Stamp: Michelle Coleman, Stamped Alpha
Inked & torn edges: Atomic Cupcake action
Kit: Amanda Rockwell, Lucky, Sweet Shoppe Designs





Torn edges: Atomic Cupcake Action
Foam stamp: Atomic Cupcake Action
Fonts: Pharmacy, Pea Jenny Script
Kit: Amanda Rockwell, Lucky, Sweet Shoppe Designs

I have to hurry - I can't believe I forgot this

Brad has taken the girls to buy birthday cards (Elizabeth shared that's where they were going) and before they left he gave me specific orders of all I was to have done by the time he gets home. But, if I don't blog this I'll forget...

Some of you have heard the story and if you have, I apologize - but remember, this is the substitute for the Baby Books so I have to put it here, too. It's the story of Cinderella's head.

My aunt (known as Bippie) got the girls these teeny little Disney Princess figurines at Gator Golf - specifically Ariel and Cinderella. I could just see Annie snapping one of them in half and choking so I've kept them put up. The big girls get to play with them only when Annie is asleep. Last Friday Annie was napping so Nin was playing with Cinderella. I was doing various and assorted housework while she did this. She started crying and came over to my desk, "Mommy! Cinderedda's head!!" then she hands me a headless Cinderella.

"Uh-oh! You broke off Cinderella's head. Bring it to me and I'll glue it back on." Wailing continues. Woe is Cinderedda's head. I get up and look around the family room floor to see if I can find it. I can't. "Katherine, do you know where Cinderella's head is?"

She nods, and continues wailing.

"Where is it, baby?"

Wailing stops. "Um, it might be in my tummy." She looks down the neck of her shirt. "Get it out!"

I'm trying to stifle the laughter. 'Um, it might be in my tummy'?! "Um...," as if she had to think about it? "...it might be..." It might be? as if she's not sure. "...in my tummy" and I was worried about ANNIE eating the things. "Um, it might be in my tummy." Good grief. I told her, "Well, it'll come out eventually." It was so small I wasn't worried about her passing it.

I'm one of those moms who suffers through changing dirty diapers and wiping poopy butts - hated changing other kids' dirty diapers, hate changing my own kids' (doesn't bother me as much as other kids, but still bothers me). I'll be damned if I'm going to comb through her poop to see if Cinderella's head is in there.

They say it's your birthday....it's my birthday, too

So, I get this birthday card in the mail from the in-laws. It has a birthday check in it. MIL has written a note, "Buy yourself some Starbucks. Do not use this toward the plumber." Ooookay. I know, I know, I know. I really need to treat myself since it's my birthday. BUT...I have an $1100 plumbing bill. And while this check doesn't cover it (don't I wish someone would fall out of the sky and give me $1100?!), every little bit helps. And then when he is paid, I can buy myself all the Starbucks I want, right?