Don't Make Me Eject You!

Allie slid into the passenger seat when I picked her up from school today. She began studying the various buttons on the dash panel ("getting a head start for when she learns to drive").

Allie: Is this the eject button?
I glanced to see what she was pointing to. I noticed it was the hazard button.
Me: No, babe. It's not.
Allie: So, it won't eject me out of the car if I push it?

I tried very hard to swallow my laugh.

Me: No, it won't eject you, or anyone else, from the car.
Allie: Do those things even exist then or is that just in the movies?
Me: No, they exist. But only in planes and helicopters and stuff. Cars don't have eject buttons.

For a tiny moment, I allowed  myself to imagine the usefulness of an automotive eject button...

"Don't make me eject you!"

Something To Write Home About

This afternoon, the girls and I received these beautiful cards from my husband.

One for each of us (Sofia ran off with hers and I was impatient to take photos while I knew where the rest were). Of course, getting a card from a loved one is (usually) a sentimental experience. But when I realized these cards were handmade by volunteers for troops to send to their families, it took on even more meaning.

Being the crafty type myself, I realize how much thought and care goes into each card. The fact that some wonderful paper crafter took the time to make even one card to donate to our Soldiers is incredibly touching in a way I can't fully express.

Operation Write Home is the name of the organization that accepts donations of blank handmade cards to distribute to our deployed troops to send home. Please, please check out their website for guidelines and info on where to send them if you are interested.

And to any and all crafters who contribute their talent to such wonderful endeavors, thank you! A handmade card may seem small, but the impact it made on my day is bigger than you will ever know. I will pay it forward.

Snack Attack

Well, hello there yummy left over California Rolls. Why yes, I do believe I will eat the rest of you. Who is that yelling, me too!? Why, howdy, Chocolate Cupcake. It looks like you've lost you're delicious-looking pink whipped cream frosting top. Don't worry, I'll scoop it back on for you. And yes, of course you may join the party in my tummy (so yummy, so yummy).


What's that, Capri Sun? Yes, you're invited, too. Silly fruit drink. Why wouldn't you be? I need something to chase down all those silly California rolls and cupcakes.

Wait. Everybody, shhhhh! I hear someone coming... Get down. I'll check it out but you're safe, don't worry. Tip toe, tip toe. 

Its the Sugar Monitor! Quick, get in my mouth so he doesn't see you all! Hurry. HURRY! 

/garbled/
WHEW! That was close! 

Bonding with Babysitting Mama

For Allie's birthday, we got her the newest game of the Cooking Mama franchise. Just as I thought she would, she LOVED it. And just as I thought I would, I hated it. But, what can you do, right?

So anyways, she and her sister were playing a mini game where these babies toddle across the screen nekkid, and you have to flick the nun chuck at just the right time to diaper the baby. Watching, I wondered why in the hell  8 babies were running around sans butt-covers? But that soon became irrelevant cuz then an inexplicable urge to try it out came over me. So I did. And afterwards, I challenged Allie and Sofia in a few of the other mini games. What follows is one of our various exchanges regarding a challenge:

On Feed the Baby (where you have to time carefully to put the spoon in and take out of the baby's mouth cuz she's all flailing and stuff):

Allie: mom, you're losing. You have to wait until the baby stops moving her arms to feed her.
Me: I know.
Allie: but you keep trying to feed her when she's moving her arms.
Me: I know.
Allie: you're making her cry!
Me: I know. Isn't it great?
Allie: mom, you're losing! Sofia's already fed her baby 5 times now and you only did 2!
Me (continuing to intentionally mis-time the task): it's okay. I don't think this stupid baby wants to eat, anyways
Allie: she does, she does.
Me: no she doesn't, she keeps knocking the spoon away.
Allie: because you're not being patient. You have to wait until she stops doing that before you feed her
Me: Pffffft. What's the fun in that?
Allie: What?
Me: this dumb baby isn't hungry anyhow. Look at that, she knocks the spoon away. Hungry babies don't do that.
Allie: yes, they do.
Me: Gwennie doesn't. If she's hungry, she opens her mouth. If she's not, she pushes away the spoon or bottle.
Allie: ... it's just a game mom.
Me (smiling): I know!
Allie: But you're losing!
Me: But it's much more fun this way.

I don't think Allie will let me near her future children after this...

I Hate Valentine's Day

You know that movie, "I Hate Valentine's Day" with John Corbett and Nia Vardalos? I'm thinking of writing a knock off called "I Hate Valentine's Day: The Parenthood Edition".

It'll begin with an overwhelmed mother (don't these things always) crying in the kitchen over the classroom cupcakes because the pink frosting is somehow purple, and she forgot to go to Target to get Valentine's for her kids to pass out at school the next day. I don't want to give anything away, but it will probably end with her eating all the "imperfect" cupcakes herself on the kitchen floor (all 30 of them). Her kids will walk in to find her wild eyed with purple icing and candy hearts stuck to her hair and "I Hate Valentine's Day" scratched into a kitchen cabinet with a kebab skewer.

Oh, yeah. Did I mention that her husband cancelled their Valentine's Day dinner plans because he's got to "work late" again?  But the sitter is already arranged so she'll probably hit some strip joint with $15 dollars worth of pennies and try not to dilute her pomegranate appletini with the tears of a bitter, wasted life.