A Break

I am out of town this weekend for my niece's third birthday extravaganza, so forgive me for being a bad blog buddy.

I feel like I need a break from the norm anyway. My crabiness is starting to get out of control. Today, I yelled at a bank teller, and then immediately called Eric at work to explain the story of the rude bank teller. After a pause, he said "You do seem crabby today. I think the bank teller was right." WTF?!! I hung up on him.

So, this weekend, I'm going to try to extract myself and take a few deep breaths.

Things are already turning around. I managed to get green shamrock shake out of Georgia's white Hello Kitty! May the celebration begin.

I hope you all have a Sham-rockin' St. Patty's Day!!!!!

Phone Etiquette

Some people have road rage. I have phone rage. I get really annoyed with wrong numbers, specifically rude wrong numbers – as in people who call in the middle of the night, people who call and say “Who is this?” or people who just hang up. Grrrr!

Since the invention of caller ID, I don’t just let these types of things go. Yeah, yeah, I know. I can just hear the voice of my hypnotherapist telling me to rechannel my energy into something positive.

Well, this isn’t so easy when you’re having a bad day. Yesterday, I was busy with work, busy with kids, busy, busy, busy. I finally had about two seconds to myself to sit down in the afternoon about 5:00. And the phone rang. *sigh* The area code was the same as my parents, but I didn’t know the number. I answered it, and was greeted by a long pause, then a voice that said, “Hello?” I said, “Yes?” And the rude voice said, “Do I have the wrong number?” I said, “Well, how am I supposed to know.” And they hung up.

Dammit! How freaking rude! Is it so difficult to say, “I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number.” Apparently, it freaking is.

I immediately hit *69. When the person answered, I said, “I believe someone from this number just called me and hung up.” The rude woman said, “No. Someone from your number called me. I was calling you back.”

What the f*ck ever! Normally, I may have blamed it on my children, but Eli was occupied on the computer, and Georgia was asleep. I said, “I highly doubt that. And next time you call someone, have the decency to say, ‘I’m sorry’ instead of just hanging up like this,” and I hung up.

The woman called back. I picked up and immediately hung up without saying anything. Great! Now evil, rude woman was harassing me.

That should have been it. Except that for some reason I was thinking her number seemed familiar. Not a lot of people other than my parents call me from that area code. Then I remembered that I was in touch last week with a woman about her Passion Party order.

Oh, crap. I went to my office and looked up her order form. Sure enough, it was her number. Great. Not only was I a bitch, I was a bitch to a woman who placed a $250 order from me.

I’m holding out some hope that it was someone else calling from that number and not her. And whoever it was, she still called, hung up and was rude. So, my bitchiness was justified, right? Right?!

Okay, so maybe I need to work on my phone etiquette just a tad. Hmph.

13 Children’s Songs I Love

It seems like children’s music is 90 percent of what I listen to these days. And let me tell you, I’m familiar with the good, the bad and the ugly. This week, I decided to focus on the good. I could easily have listed my 13 favorite Wiggles song or my 13 favorite Laurie Berkner songs, but I tried to mix it up a little. I linked if I could find the songs.

1. The Wiggles – Shake Your Sillies Out
2. Laurie Berkner – Victor Vito
3. Barney – If All The Raindrops
4. Parachute Express – Butterfly

5. Greg and Steve – The Freeze Song
6. LazyTown – Bing Bang
7. The Wiggles – Georgia’s Song
8. Laurie Berkner – Bumblebee (Buzz Buzz)
9. Sesame Street – I Don’t Want To Live on the Moon (sung by Ernie)
10. Marlo Thomas – Free to be you and me (Remember this from the 70’s?!!)
11. Go Diego Go Theme Song
12. Parachute Express - Dance Puppet Dance (or if you're in Gymboree, it's Dance Gymbo Dance)
13. Michael Jackson Roberta Flack - When We Grow Up

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Wordless Wednesday - Eli and Brady

Rock Bottom

The first step is admitting you have a problem, right? Well, I think after this morning, there’s no way I could deny it anymore. We all know I’m a coffee addict. That isn’t much of a surprise. But I don’t think I truly knew exactly how bad I was.

I had a Passion Party the other night, which went late. The next morning, I was tired (this lovely time change isn’t helping), I had a headache, and I needed coffee. I take my coffee with cream, no sugar. I don’t do black coffee. I need stuff in it.

I brewed a fresh pot, and went to the refrigerator to get the half and half. There were about two drops in the bottom of it. Empty.

No. No! NOOO!!

Okay, after a few deep breaths, I was trying to come up with a back-up plan. The kids were still in bed, so it’s not like I could just run out for half and half. Then an idea struck – amazing that I had a rational thought since I had had no coffee. I remembered that a couple of weeks ago I made a cake using whipping cream.

Cream! It was still in the refrigerator. I started shoving things around looking for it. Aha! I located it right behind the margarine and edible body pens. I looked at the date. March 10. Okay, that was only a few days ago. I was sure it was still good. Right?

I smelled it. Crap! It had started to turn. It wasn’t so horribly bad that it was turning into yogurt, but it definitely wasn’t what I would call “good.”

I thought to myself, I’m only going to use a little bit, and I’ll bet when drowned in a cup of very strong coffee, you won’t even be able to tell the cream was a little off. Right?

So, I poured it in my cup. And there I sat in my kitchen, drinking my coffee laced with sour cream. Not one of my finer moments. Unfortunately, you could tell the cream was bad even when it was mixed with strong coffee. And I drank it anyway. *sigh* That is rock bottom, my friends. Rock. Bottom.

Good Grief!

I don’t like funerals and dead people. I know that no one likes funerals, but they seriously give me the heebie jeebies. I think the open casket thing is freaky as all hell because the dead person always looks like they’re wearing clown make-up, and I morbidly expect them to pop up at any minute. I also have a weird urge to lift up the bottom part of the lid to see if they’re wearing shoes.

A lady Eric works with lost her husband this past weekend. We’ll call her Sandy. Eric thought it would be nice if we all went to the funeral. Grief is something I don’t do well. At all. I am the person who gets the uncontrollable giggles at funerals. It is really not pretty. Therefore, I didn’t think it was a great idea for me to go, much less bring the children. We have touched on the issue of death and heaven with Eli. He knows all about Baby Jesus, but I still don’t think the whole concept really clicks for him. And all I needed was him screaming, “MOMMY! Why is that guy asleep?!” in front of the grieving widow.

Incidentally, Eli asked his daddy the other day if he knew what happened to fish when they die. Eric said, “They go to fish heaven.” Eli sighed loudly and said, “No daddy! They go in the potty!”

My son! What a comedian!

Anyway, Eric and I decided that a good compromise was to go to the visitation. Now, I’m from a small town. Visitations consisted of a room full of people, most of them crying, enough flowers to give you hay fever, a dead guy, and a sign-in book. Our plan was to go in, sign the book and I was to hustle the kids to the back of the room out of earshot of anyone while Eric went to talk to Sandy.

Apparently, they do things differently in a big city. First of all, they dress up. For a visitation? Second, they don’t bring kids. Who knew? Third, the chapel was so busy, people were illegally parked for two blocks. When we managed to find a parking spot, we could barely get in the door. We were then ushered to the end of a line that circled all the way around the building. I’m still a little unsure about what exactly we were waiting in line for.

Considering Georgia’s recent decent into madness, I was pretty sure we should cut our losses and go. Eric wanted to wait. *sigh* Georgia wanted down, Eli wanted to play with the display coffins (yes, display coffins (!!!) and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. People around us were talking in quiet hushed tones as we passed by poster boards filled with pictures of the dead guy, his wife and their dog. Eli was screaming, “I’m HUNGRY!” and “I need to go potty!” and Georgia was screaming, “DOWN!!!”

The old couple standing in front of us said, “I don’t think she’s going to make it,” looking at Georgia. “You’ve signed the book . . .” Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. They were nicely telling us to take our loud children and get the hell out. I looked at Eric and he said, “Okay, we should probably go.” Ya think?

On the way out, Eli noticed a dish of candy by the door. He snagged a piece on the way out, which made him extremely happy. On the way home, he asked, “Can we go back to that place sometime so I can get some more candy?” Eric and I both looked at each other and said, “NO!”

Manic Monday – Click

Welcome to Manic Monday once again. This week’s Manic Monday word is Click. When I hear the Manic Monday word, I always try to go with the first thing that comes to my head.

After thinking about the word for a little while, I thought I should use it to pimp my Passion Parties. Click on my Web site and shop, shop, shop. Or I could pimp Morgen’s new online store, The Wren’s Nest! I have purchased from him in the past, and he has awesome stuff!!

However, the very first thing that popped into my head (and has yet to leave my head) was Go Diego Go!

Why the heck is it so difficult for me to get children’s songs out of my head?!! Go Diego Go is one of my children’s favorite shows. Diego (or as Georgia calls him – Digogo) is Dora’s cousin. Diego is an animal rescuer. It’s a great premise, and between Diego and Dora, my kids know more Spanish than I learned in college.

Diego has a camera named Click, voiced by Rosie Perez. Click takes a picture of the animals in trouble so Diego will know who he needs to rescue. Click also has a particularly catchy theme song that starts out, “Say Click! Take a pic!” I tried to find it on YouTube, but no luck.

Anyway, along with Click, his Rescue Backpack, and Field Journal, Diego saves animals such as tree frogs, pygmy marmosets, condors and three-toed sloths. Dude! Whatever happen to your every day dogs and cats?

Oh well. The kids love it! And I can’t get the damn click song out of my head!

Trojan Tales

Eric found the best Web site today! It made me laugh my ass off. You can answer a few fun questions, and get your Trojan name. I am Athena, Goddess of Genitalia.

The site also has an amphitheatre, in which they have taken an old Gladiator movie and dubbed it MST3K-style so it sounds like they are talking about sex. You must check it out here!! Have fun, and leave your Trojan name in the comments section.

Bl-Oscar

I always wanted to win an Oscar, and now I have one better – a Bl-Oscar!! Sanni gave out her Bl-Oscars on Thursday over at Coffee 2 Go, and Crazy Working Mom and I received Bl-Oscars for Funny Mommies. Yea us!! Woo hoo!

I am thrilled! I am humbled! And I love Sanni!!

Thank you so much for this honor. Everyone join in my celebration. Have a nice glass of champagne while you’re blurfing tonight, and don’t forget to head over to Coffee 2 Go and check out Sanni’s fabulous blog!

My Wit's End

The last couple of days have been hellish. Georgia has officially entered the terrible twos. She is crazy. I have never seen a child scream and buck at the slightest little thing. Not cool, people. Not. Cool. Today in the car, her head actually spun around. I’m not kidding.

On top of that, she has inherited what I call my mother’s “Shrill.” I remember the Shrill to my mom’s voice vividly from when I was younger. It literally made my eardrums vibrate in protest. Unfortunately, my daughter has it too. Dude! Someone up there has a sick sense of humor.

And did I mention that Georgia has started climbing out of her crib? It happened last Saturday night for the first time. I got home from a Passion Party after the kids were already in bed. She must have heard my voice because before I knew it, we heard her door knob rattling. Two seconds later, she got her door open and ran to me screaming, “GOT YOU!!!” After she realized how easily it was to get out of the crib, she has decided to do it all the time.

So, today started off when I opened the door to Georgia’s room, and she had herself half way out of the crib. I went and snatched her up before she could get to the ground. Her first word to me? “POPSICLE!” I said, “No, we are not having a popsicle for breakfast.” Well, she understands the word ‘No’ and she immediately began crying and trying desperately to throw herself from my arms.

She refused to eat anything after that and kept pointing to the freezer. Grrr. . . That just set the mood. We took Eli to preschool, and I put her in the stroller so I wouldn’t have to chase her. When I took her in, she just smiled as everyone cooed at her, looking like an angelic cross between Krissi Snow and Cindy Lou Hoo. I saw the demonic grin behind those eyes.

When we got in the car, she pointed at the front seat and yelled, “Uuuuh!” Okay, I’m fairly well-versed in baby talk, but for the life of me I could not figure out what she wanted. Whatever it was really pissed her off because it caused her to do the “Shrill” for the next half hour.

I went to Caribou to get coffee and she yelled “DRINK!” I got her a raspberry milk. I’m used to her making a mess. She usually dribbles on herself, but that’s why I get raspberry. Her coat is pink, so it blends. Well today after a few happy sips, she became possessed, let out a yell, and chucked her cup of raspberry milk at me, spilling it all over my car. I don’t know if there is any sort of a record for how far a toddler can chuck a cup of milk, but I’m fairly certain she beat that today. She then screamed all the way home. I left her strapped in and bucking while I got towels and Clorox wipes and attempted to clean out my car.

The child is sleeping now, and I am praying that tomorrow will be a little better. I love her more than my own life, but let me tell you, even though I have had my tubes tied, I might call my gynecologist tomorrow to see if I can go in to have them tied in a double knot.

13 Things In My Purse

Today I realized that my purse, which is the size of a suitcase, weighed so much that it was about to give me a hernia. Therefore, I decided it was time to clean it out. I only carry around what I deem a necessity, so I’m not quite sure what happened. Here are 13 things I found in my purse today.

1. Hello Kitty toothbrush – Georgia’s, not mine. One morning, she refused to leave the house without her toothbrush, which she had deathgripped in her little fingers. She finally threw it down in the middle of the grocery store when she was distracted by something shiny.

2. Toy flute – After I took this out of my purse and Eli got ahold of it, I was reminded how ear-splittingly loud it is, which is why I hid it in my purse in the first place.

3. Chop sticks – Eli picks up extra chop sticks every time we go to Panda Express or Noodles & Co. He uses them as some weird experiment with his Legos.

4. Candyland card – I have no freaking clue how that ended up in there.

5. Potpourri sachet – I was trying to make my purse smell better, since Georgia’s sippy cup of milk leaked in it.

6. Purple dinosaur – Eli’s crappy toy “prize” he got at the dentist’s office.

7. Nipple Nibblers (watermelon) – I’m telling you – best freaking lip gloss ever!

8. Breast reduction pamphlet – If I keep it in my purse, I remember where it is.

9. Tide Stain Stick – Dude! They need to sell these damn things in bulk.

10. Georgia’s hair – My baby’s first official haircut was two weeks ago. *sniff*

11. Mucinex – along with the Visine, nose drops and prescription drugs, my purse is a regular pharmacy.

12. Passion Party catalogs – I never leave home without a few to hand out.

13. Coffee receipts – Between Caribou and Starbucks, I’m sure there were hundreds of dollars worth of receipts shoved in my purse. I quickly threw them away before my husband could see them.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Wordless Wednesday - Eli the Traveler

The throw-up incident

It started out as a normal playdate. My friend Heather #2 showed up with her two children Jay and Zee. She came in and set her stuff down. Her kids ran into the family room to play with my kids.

They were here all of two minutes when we heard, “AAAAAAA!” from both Eli and his friend Jay. Heather and I went running into the family room just in time to see her son Jay throw up. Again.

Oh, double crap. The family room is carpeted. Before I could utter a very inappropriate “M*ther F*ck,” Eli screamed, “MOMMY!! Jay threw up on my ATM machine!!” For some reason, that added some levity to the situation. Eli’s best friend was obviously very sick, and he was ultimately concerned with the fact that his plastic ATM machine was covered in vomit – his friend’s welfare be damned! Why do I find this amusing?

After upchuck #2, Heather managed to get her son into the kitchen before vomit #3 hit. At least there’s no carpet in the kitchen. Still, I was left with the daunting task of trying to figure out how to get throw-up out of the carpet and keep my children from touching anything before I had sanitized the entire house.

On top of that, my friend Heather was mortified that her family paid a special visit just so her son could spew in three rooms of my house (he made it to the bathroom for the next one). As I was attempting to wipe up the carpet with wet towels, and spraying it with Clorox sanitizing spray, as well as spraying the kitchen down with Pine-Sol, Heather went to get out my vacuum.

Dude! It’s incredibly nice that you want to help clean up, but I’m thinking the best thing would be to remove the child before he has another projectile vomiting episode. When she saw him go white as a sheet, she decided that was in fact the best move, and managed to get him outside. I then looked out to see him tossing his cookies in the front yard. Poor kid.

They did finally manage to get on the road, and I have since found out that Heather and her other son got Jay’s stomach flu. Not. Cool.

Luckily, I managed to sanitize everything and give the children boiling, anti-bacterial baths, so we seemed to come through the incident unscathed. But, I think I’m going to schedule our next playdate at the park. Just in case.

“She bited me!”

Dude! My daughter is turning into a maniac!! Yesterday, she took Eli’s balloon and ran with it. I do mean literally ran with it. Like she was an Olympic runner! She is phenomenal at taking any sort of a toy and getting it away from her brother, or me for that matter, as fast as humanly possible. I only wish I were so skilled at such a young age.

Anyway, I saw her streak past me with the balloon while headed down the hall. She was quickly followed by Eli who was screaming his usual mantra, “No, Georgia!! That’s MIIIIIIIINE!”

They both disappeared down the hall, and before I could dry my hands off to go follow them, I heard Eli’s shrill scream, and he came running in crying. I noticed his hand was all red. I asked what happened, and he tearfully proclaimed, “G. . g . . Georgia bited me!”

I held up his hand for closer inspection, and in retrospect, I really should have taken a picture. His had was not only red, it had some deep teeth marks. Eli's rabid little sister had even broken the skin in a couple of spots. And with the placement of the teeth marks, that girl must have had his entire hand in her mouth!

Where did Georgia learn how to bite? The cats?

About that time, she came waltzing in, the balloon long forgotten, attempting to put on one of her shoes. I got right in her face and said, “We do NOT bite, young lady!”

It seemed to make Eli feel better that I reprimanded Georgia even though she was giving me her best WTF face. *sigh* I have a feeling we will be revisiting this issue in the future.

Mild Manic Monday – Blow!

You all really want to see if I can keep this clean, don’t you? I’ll tell you right now, I can’t do it. I think Morgen over at It’s A Blog Eat Blog World watched one too many episodes of Dante’s Cove when he chose Blow for this week's word.

I had so many things going through my head that I went into overload. So you, dear readers, get two Manic Monday posts – one mild and one wild. (Wink wink.) This is the mild post. Scroll down for a brief but meaningful wild Manic Monday.

Since I was born and raised in the state of Kansas, I can’t let the word blow go by without talking about tornados. I will tell you right now, if one person leaves any sort of Dorothy or Toto comment, I will kick your ass. Trust me, those comments got old by the time I was five. Now that I’m 35, I pretty much just want to throw down when someone spits out a yellow brick road comment when they find out I’m from Kansas. Dude, let’s have some originality.

But I digress. I may have mentioned before that I grew up in a small Kansas town. One of the many duties my dad did for the city was to serve as tornado spotter. When it stormed, my dad would head outside of town and see how close the tornados were to the city.

On occasion, I went with him, and let me tell you, there is nothing more incredibly amazing than seeing one of those big f*ckers blow right toward you. If you ever see a tornado in person, you will not only be amazed, but you will have a tremendous amount of respect for mother nature.

Above is a great photo of an F-5 tornado that hit south central Kansas (where I’m from) in 1991. (See this Web site for more information, including photos and video clips from the Andover tornado.)

I definitely did not grow up to be a tornado chaser. There have been too many times in my life that I have been too close to them. These days, when I hear those tornado sirens, my husband and I are much more comfortable grabbing the kids and the cats and heading to the basement. Someday I’ll have to tell you about how we had to spend Eric’s birthday in the basement eating birthday cake because we were in the middle of a tornado. Oh, the joys of living in Kansas!

Wild Manic Monday – Blow!

Come on, I’m the Passion Party lady!! Or as the people at Caribou Coffee call me – the Sex Toy Lady. They always ask for your name when you order so they can print it on your receipt. My receipts seriously say Sex Toy Lady. I’d like to see them explain that when they’re audited.

Anyway, when you’re in my profession, you really have to be an expert in exactly what makes people blow. After a few months of pimping adult toys and sensual products, these are my two top recommendations.

For the ladies:


The Mini Tongue. It may look creepy, but it is in-freaking-credible. Seriously. You. Have. No. Idea.

For the gentlemen:

Gigi. Available in regular and glow in the dark. Let me tell you, if I had a penis for 24 hours, I would want to spend 23 of them with Gigi.

For many more products that will make you blow your top (in a good way), visit my Passion Party Web site.

Ouch! #2

Welcome to edition #2 of "Things that hurt like a Mo Fo when you step on them in the middle of the night."

This week's winner is:



Those f*cking drum sticks are pokey!

The thing that gets me is that I actually make a point of picking things up before I go to bed so I won't kill myself in the middle of the night.

Apparently, there are gnomes that live in my closet, and while I sleep, they come out and scatter shit around my bed. It's the only thing I can think of.

Either that or the children are trying to kill me.

F*cking F*ck!

I have decided that I am going to unplug my TV and throw it out the window.

Eli went to bed early tonight (miracle of miracles), and I decided to turn on a movie while I was getting Georgia ready for bed.

I was happy to see Four Weddings and a Funeral was on. I love that movie! It’s one of my favorites. Not only is it extremely well-written, but Eric and I saw it about three weeks before we got married, so it just brings back fun memories. It’s not a movie I ever really thought about not watching in front of the children. . . I really have to be more careful about that.

Anyway, I turned it on right as the movie was starting, and if you all have seen it, you may remember what the first few lines in the movie are. In case you don’t, I’ll remind you. The first line is Hugh Grant looking at the clock, screaming, “Oh F*CK!” The tirade of “F*ck! F*ck! F*ck!” goes on for a couple of minutes.

For some reason, this caught Georgia’s rapt attention. She looked at me, smiled and said, “F*CK!”

Eric and I both gasped in shock. I said, “Are you freaking kidding me?! Did our one-year-old just say 'F*ck!'?"

Nice. I’ll be putting that down in the baby book as one of her first words. At least I can take comfort in the fact that she didn’t get it from me.

13 Things My Toddler Says Vs. What She Actually Means

My daughter, Georgia, is 20 months old, and call me crazy, but I LOVE this age. Yes, she has temper tantrums that are freaking LEGENDARY, but we also have a special communication that allows her to say one word, grunt, or wiggle her arms, and I know exactly what she wants. Here are 13 examples.

1. Georgia points to the kitchen and says, “Dora!” - She means, “Mother, I would like a popsicle. You know the ones – they have a picture of Dora on the box.” (I swear, that brand marketing is going to kill me, but that’s another blog.)

2. She says “Paper!” - She means, “Mommy, I love you so much that I would like some paper and crayons so I can draw you a beautiful picture.”

3. She says, “MEOW!” - She means “Mom, have you seen the cat recently because I am really having the urge to jump on him and give him a hug as he tries to scramble away.”

4. She says “MORE!” – She really means “all done.” I don’t know how we messed this up when teaching her sign language.

5. She says “Coat.” – She means, “Mommy, although I find your company thrilling, I need a change of scenery. Can we please go bye-bye?”

6. She says “Book!” – She means, “Mother, I’m ready for you to stimulate my mind by reading me a story, and just so you know, it better be the apple book."

7. She says “Blue!” while moving her arms from side to side. – She means, “Look, Mommy! I can skidoo better than Blue can! As a reward, you should turn on Blue’s Clues and let me watch it for the rest of the day!” (If you don’t know what it means to “skidoo” you’re just going to have to catch an episode of Blue’s Clues and find out.)

8. She says, “Foot, FOOT!” while holding her foot up to my mouth – She means, “I stepped on another one of my dear brother’s toys that he so carelessly left strewn about the floor. Can you please kiss my foot and make it feel better?”

9. She says, “Bottle!” – She means, “I think it’s time for me to retire for the night. Can you please fix me an evening cocktail of warm milk?”

10. She screams “Down!” while reaching up for me. – She means, “Mommy! Please pick me up and hold onto my hands so I can scare the crap out of you by then doing a back flip down off your lap and laughing my head off.”

11. She screams, “Lie Lie!” which is what she calls her brother Eli. – She means, “Have you seen my brother, Eli? I need to go take one of his toys causing him to chase me around the house while screaming, ‘No Georgia! That’s mine!’”

12. She screams, “Daddy!” while pointing at strange men. – She means, “I see a man with short brown hair who resembles my father. I think I will shout daddy and point at every man I see so people will think mommy’s a great big ho-bag!”

13. She points to the CD player in the car and yells “Boo!” - She means, “I really hope you remembered the LazyTown CD, mommy, because I would really like to dance like a maniac in my car seat while listening to my favorite song:”

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

The Hair Cut

Last, week, I finally broke down and took the kids in for haircuts. Both of them have desperately needed haircuts for awhile, and I usually do it myself. Of course, my experience with Georgia’s hair consists of cutting her bangs, and she moves around so much that I’m afraid I’m going to end up jabbing her in the eye.

I have a little better luck with Eli, but he covers his head like he’s in a tornado drill, so I decided it was worth spending the money to let someone else deal with frustration have the joy of trying to cut his hair.

Off we went to Shear Madness. Has anyone been here? It’s the main kids’ hair salon here in town, and it’s pretty much a freaking toy store with a salon in the middle. So not only do you have to pay an arm and a leg for a child’s haircut, but then you have to drag them kicking and screaming out the door because they’re pissed you won’t spend $10 on a plastic ball. Why do business owners enjoy torturing us parents?

When I walked in, the first thing I heard was, “Hey, hey, Neila!!” I had to do a double take. Do you ever see someone completely out of the setting in which you’re used to seeing them, and therefore it takes you a moment to place them? Well it turns out that my friend Nichole, who also does Passion Parties, and who I partied rather hard with last Saturday night, works at Shear Madness. That was a pleasant surprise.

She had the joy of cutting Eli’s hair. She did an awesome job, but Eli climbed into this little car, and got to watch a Dora DVD and eat a sucker while she was cutting his hair. Dude! If I had tried that, I might have been able to do a better job, too.

Then came Georgia’s haircutting trauma.

Okay, actually, the trauma was mostly mine. When Georgia was about 11 months old, her hair kept falling into her eyes, so I did what any normal mother would do – I cut her bangs. Well, even I could tell at this point that I had messed up. The entire front of her hair was bangs. It was actually looking dangerously close to a mullet. So, until her poor bangs grow out, she is going to have the Krissi Snow look going on:

The girl cutting her hair did a lot better than I could, but since Georgia refuses to sit still, even for a Dora DVD, it still wasn’t what I would call even. Like an idiot, I decided to “even it up” a couple of days later.

*sigh* What the hell is wrong with me? You would think I could leave well enough alone. Now the left side of her hair is about ¾ of an inch shorter than the right side. Plus she still has the whole pony tail thing going on on the top of her head. At least she’s not old enough to be ashamed and have to wear a baseball cap.