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Showing posts from August 21, 2011

When Daddy Watches Toddler

ME: "Hey, Buddy! ... uh... what's in his hair?"

 BIG V: "Oh, he got in the soap. He wanted to wash his hair."
 ME: "He told you that?"
 BIG V: "...no ... but it kept him occupied 'til you got home."

I like your sweater. No, I mean it. I really like your sweater.

I know it's going to be very hard for you to believe, but I wasn't always this tall glass of sunshine you see before you today. (It's sarcasm, Mom. Don't feel compelled to point out the obvious.)

I wasn't a cute kid, or a beautiful child. I wasn't ever pageant worthy and I certainly wasn't being asked out on dates.

Like most kids, I thrived on compliments. If someone couldn't muster up the you are just about the most precious little girl I have ever seen nicety, what could they possibly say about me?

I found humor.

I figured out pretty quick how to get a group laughing so hard their ribs hurt, wiping away tears while falling off their chairs. I also learned that it's an act: disengage and go for broke. Before you know it, you'll be known as the funniest person I ever met! And to me, that was just about the best compliment anyone could ever give me.

The problem with being funny is that everyone assumes you're always happy.

Look, I was pre…

I don't want my baby to turn into the dog.

Like most mommies, I rarely get a chance to get ready in the morning without the Circus Parade of my Family joining me in the bathroom. It gets hectic and chaotic and fortheloveofcheese can't I just shove my contacts in IN PEACE?!

My bathroom routine usually includes a moody, over tired 9-year old, a climbing toddler, and confused Big V, wondering why the kids are in there in the first place. This morning was no different:

Dotter is sitting on the toilet, yelling at Cletus, who is climbing over her to get to the counter where he's busy squeezing toothpaste out of the tube and smearing it across the sink, while I'm attempting to push him out with my elbow and jab a somewhat ripped contact into my left eyeball. Big V is standing behind me. I'm not entirely sure why, but I'm hedging bets he just felt lonely waiting outside our super tiny bathroom.

Dotter, can you please go get dressed?

"I know, Mom! That's what I was going to do! Why do you always treat me li…

My Weekend in Four Photos

Big V and I went to Olive Garden for my birthday. If I convince you of nothing else in your life, let it be this:  Go. Go right now to the Olive Garden. Order the Chianti Braised Short Ribs with Mushroom Risotto. Rejoice.

I wandered around the book store. Big V wandered half a millimeter behind me. "Do you want this book?" "What about this one?" "This one looks good." He was in a hurry. To leave.

Children are like an optical illusion. See, he's cute here. But not so cute when I came across the wads of yogurt he dumped on the living room rug.

His new favorite toy: the plastic wine glass. He even took it to bed with him at nap time. I'd say that's his mother's influence.