This is what happens when I take out the camera

All I wanted was one little picture. But the Diva takes it upon herself to turn it into a photo shoot. She has been doing this for well over a year, and I still don't know where she gets it.

34 months ago

The Diva looked like this:

Now she looks like this:

Can someone please tell me where the time went?

What the soup??

I just saw a puzzling commercial for Progresso Soup. The wife tells the husband "The kids are gone, it's just us now, no more condensed soup for us" (or something along those lines). The whole premise of the commercial is that condensed soup is crap. So are they saying "Feed your kids crap, but save the good stuff for yourselves?" Can't everybody have healthy flavorful soup? Shouldn't we be more worried about providing nutritious meals for our kids, since we are the ones feeding them? Personally I like to make my own soup, but whatever. Am I reading to much into this? Because that commercial really just ticked me off.

Cookie Making with The Diva

This morning we made peanut butter cookies with The Diva.

Me: Look Diva, you roll the cookie dough into a little ball just like this.
Diva: (holding out her dough) There Mommy I did it! It looks just like a poop.

Not the visual you really want when baking cookies, but she is kind of right.

Tell her I sent you!

Beth is having another giveaway. This time it is a Reader's Digest Subscription. But the fun doesn't stop there, if you comment, you can do so in the form of a Haiku. I had fun coming up with mine, even though it was sort of boring. I bet you can do better..... so check it out. Oh, and just mention I sent you and if you win I get cookies! Have fun kids!

Santa Who?

Don't let small children read this.
I am totally blowing it on the Santa front. The Diva is into Santa this year. I am not sure how she even knows much about the jolly old elf, since I have been skirting around the subject as much as possible. But oh no, it hasn't stopped The Diva. She could totally pick the dude out of a line up and she noticed him on a Coke can today. "Look Mommy, it's Santa!" She exclaims, whenever she gets a glimpse of the big guy. With Christmas all around us already, she is noticing him more and more. She even has a list for Santa- tap shoes and a tap dancing dress ( what the hell is a tap dancing dress anyway? If anyone knows, please tell me, because The Diva sure wants one.)

But alas, the problem is with me. I have been avoiding Santa because I have issues with him. Well, with the actual non-existence of him. (Are you following me?) Santa isn't real. I am feeding my daughter a pack of lies. She trusts me completely and counts on me to tell her what is what. And I am lying to her. I am telling her that an imaginary guy is coming to our house to leave presents. Not just for her, but for sweet little children all over the world. My best friend and my mom think I am a nut job. I think they are both afraid I am going to blow the whole thing. "Believing, is part of the magic of Christmas", they say. "Don't you remember Miracle on 34th Street??? My exasperated mother exclaimed. I am going along with it, but slightly grudgingly, because I just feel dishonest. I can't remember when I found out Santa was my parents and I think it must be because the whole thing was so traumatic that I have blocked it out to protect myself from the pain. I should have caught on quickly though; we never left cookies and milk for Santa, we left Cookies and Pepsi. My dad drinks Pepsi so much I think he might just bleed Pepsi. Coincidence? I think not!

So tonight Santa came up in conversation with The Diva, and I tried to be good, I really did.

Me: Santa is going to come to our house late on Christmas Eve
Diva: To sleep OVER????
Me: (Trying not to laugh) No, he won't sleep over but...
Diva: (All wide eyed and serious) What Mommy, what will he do?
Me: He's going to sneak into our house while we are sleeping and .......... here Diva, let's call Aunt Shell and she will tell you all about Santa.

I was laughing so hard on the inside I thought I might explode. I may have issues with this thing, but here I am making Santa sound creepier than I already thing the whole thing sort of sounds. He SNEAKS into the house??? I think I get a big fat F on this one.

Lobster Girl

I know, I know Halloween has come and gone. It has taken me forever to get pictures from my camera to the computer to this blog. But there is my lobster in all her crustacean glory! (Notice the dramatic lobster pose in the second picture) Only a few people thought she was a crab ( and I am told the hat I borrowed from my step-siblings is indeed a crab hat) and we got so many compliments on her costume. She was the only lobster around town! I bought red sweatpants and we already had a sweatshirt handy. My mom made the body with glittery red felt, with the lobster tail coming down in the back. I made the claws by sewing felt claws onto a pair of red mittens. All in all I would say it was a success, and The Diva was really happy!

Dear Daddy-o

Darling Husband of Mine,

Let me start by saying I love you. I think you are an amazing dad, a caring husband, and I happen to think you are pretty hot to boot. However there is a little issue that arose today that I just need to get off my chest.

When I write Manwich (or some other brand of sloppy joe) on the grocery list, that is really what I want you to buy. Seriously. I know it may come as a shock to the system, since it isn't on our grocery list much, but for some reason I really wanted a good old Sloppy Joe. I was even all excited planning the other really healthy things I could serve with the Sloppy Joes to make up for us eating said Sloppy Joes.

So buying Sloppy Joe flavored Hamburger Helper in it's place was not very cool. I understand you couldn't find the Manwich anywhere in that ginormous Price Chopper. I understand you thought you were doing a good thing by getting the Sloppy Joe type stand in. You were even really adorable when you were telling me what you bought. So excited, so proud. So adorable in fact, that I couldn't really get mad about not getting my stinkin' Manwich. But for future reference, stick to the list. And thanks again for doing the grocery shopping in the first place. And for vacuuming. I probably sound like a really petty wench for even bringing this up.

Thanks for listening!!!

Love,
Your Wife

I guess I need a tanning bed or something

Me: Diva I love your skin, it is so beautiful.
Diva: Yes, it's like Daddy's.
Me: Why, does my skin look different?
Diva: Yes, yours is green and shiny.


Yikes.

Where does she come up with this stuff?

The Diva has clearly been here before. Tomorrow night she is going to spend some time with Grammy and Grandpa, so Daddy-0 and I are getting a date night. Funny how now that we live near more family we are actually getting the chance to date each other again. I like it! So, I told The Diva that she was going to go to Grammy's on Saturday night and the conversation when down like this.

Diva- What will you and Daddy do while I am at Grammy's?
Me-I don't know. What do you think Daddy and I should do?
Diva-Well, you could go have some sodas. Or you could go dance! And you could have adult drinks. And when you dance, you have to hold hands and dance like this (demonstrating the waltz she often does with her daddy).

Funny thing is we probably will go out dancing. And adult drinks will most likely be involved in the evening. The other funny thing is I rarely drink "adult drinks", and I can't remember the last time Daddy-o and I went dancing. So where she gets this stuff, I have no idea.

Displays of affection

Daddy-o and I have known each other for 6+ years, been "a couple" for 5 years, and have been married for 3 1/2 years. Back in the day, when our relationship was new, I would swoon when he would bring me flowers. I would melt when he would give me a sweet "just because" card. When he wrote "I love you" on the bathroom mirror, I thought I was in Heaven. But after being together for some time, it is easy for those romantic gestures to drop off a bit. I give Daddy-o credit, I still get cards and flowers and such, and I do sweet things for him too. But today, Daddy-o did something for me that brought back all those "new love feelings".

Mornings are a hectic time for me. Daddy-o leaves before The Diva and I, and I take on all of the morning, getting ready for the day jobs. I give props to those of you who have to get several people ready in the morning ( my dear friend doodlebelle) because getting just The Diva and I ready to go is a bit crazy at times. Today I got everything done, tidied up a bit, got us in our cold weather gear and headed out the door. It was cold enough to create a thin layer of ice on the winshield and windows, I could see my neigbor's frosty car as soon as I stepped outside my door. But when I got to my car I noticed something miraculous. My dear old Ford Focus had been srcaped clean already. Daddy-o took the time out of his morning to make mine a bit easier. Six years ago if someone had told me that a man scraping the ice off of my windshield would make me feel like a big puddle of goo I would have laughed. But I tell you what, showing love can be as simple as taking a few minutes to make your partner's day just a tad bit easier. It sure worked for us!

Tagged

Well, it has now happened to me! I have been tagged by Alissa to share six things about myself. I wll leave it up to you to decide whether or not the things I share are interesting. As far as spreading the taggy love, most of the people that I know read this blog have been tagged. So if you are reading, and someone hasn't tagged you, considered yourself tagged now! Here we go-

1) In college I took a trip to Puerto Rico and made my way through the rainforest with a machete.

2) I have a huge foot phobia. Watching people touch their feet creeps me out.

3) I have to tap the top of a soda can five times with my right index finger before I open it.

4) I really want to open a soup restaurant and call it Souped Up. If you happen to open a soup restaurant, please don't steal my name. K? Thanks.

5) I had pre-eclampsia when I was pregnant with the Diva. This caused her to be 6 weeks early. I then suffered ppd, and I am still a bit afraid to get pregnant again because of these two things.

6) When I was single, I used to go by a fake name in bars, and sometimes wear a fake engagement ring to ward off creepy guys. My roommate and I always made up stories about our fake identities and we once told someone we were in town for a tupperware convention.

Time to Shave

I am usually really good about shaving because I hate stubble. I guess I have been slacking, what with everyone in the house being sick every two days exactly, work, election stuff, the diva thinking 4:00 am is a good time to play the xylophone (thanks Daylight Savings Time!), etc. This morning the Diva crawled up on my lap and said, Mommy, your legs are so SCRATCHY!!!!! Why are your legs so scratchy?" I am off to correct this situation.

She really is paying attention

Within the last week our entire family (all three of us) got the 24 hour stomach bug. We each got it exactly two days apart. I was the last to get it. On Monday I was really in the thick of it and had to stay home from work. We have a futon in our family room, so in order to take advantage of the dvr while I tossed and turned in nausea town, I put it down flat-bed style. The Diva cannot stand it when the futon is down flat for some reason. She is very particular about certain things, and this is one of them. Tuesday morning when we were up and getting ready for work/school, I still hadn't put the futon back in it's upright position. In my defense, I was still feeling pretty crappy but I had to be a trooper and tough it out. The Diva walks up to me while I am packing up my school bag and says:

Diva ( In a very calm, rational voice): Mommy, you have a choice. You can pick up this couch or you can go take a time out in your room.
Me: Diva, did you just tell me to go take a time out in my room?
Diva: No, I said you have a CHOICE. You can pick this couch up, OR you can go take a time out in your room. It's your choice.

Ah, my own words coming back to haunt me in my little bossy gal. I want her to feel as equal as she can as a member of our family, but there still is a bit of a pecking order. I was truly chuckling on the inside, as this is how most disciplinary conversations with the diva go. We do use time out ( I sometimes call it "time to yourself"), and I try to remind the Diva that she has a choice, and that her actions have either positive or negative consequences. This just goes to show that she is getting it.

If you have kiddos, do you use time out or some version of it?

A way back playback

I don't know what made me think of this today, but somehow my mind wandered to a hilarious story from about 5 years ago, when I was teaching second grade. So funny that I just have to share it.

To culminate a unit on Energy, I was making Solar Oven S'mores with my students. Everyone was so excited about the project. We had made our pizza box solar ovens, had massive amounts of graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows and were ready to go. Making the Solar Ovens involves aluminum foil, and saran wrap as well, so I had extra on hand. I marched my anxious class out to the school's basketball court and we started to set up shop. My students were standing around me in circle, watching my every move. As I started assembling S'mores inside the ovens, one of my students "Mitch" approached me and asked "Ms. D, why do we need feminine oil?" I turned to look at him and he was looking up at me with sweet, brown, curious eyes. I was confused. "Why do we need what, Mitch?", I asked. Meanwhile I am racking my brain to figure out what the hell he is talking about, what kind of home he is living in and whether or not I need to involve the guidance department. Feminine oil? What is that? "The feminine OIL!", Mitch said again, clearly getting frustrated with me for not knowing what he meant. I took a breath and bravely asked Mitch to show me what he was talking about. He walked over and picked up the ALUMINUM FOIL. "Oh", I said. You mean aluminum foil!" I then explained to him what it was for (even though we had gone over it in class). I also had a really good laugh in the teacher's lounge that day. It remains one of my favorite "kid's say the darndest things" type teaching stories.

Stinkin' Traitor.

I would like to start this post by saying I don't care who you vote for just vote already! I would also like to say that anything I may say in the post is not meant to offend anyone, I promise.

Now, you may remember a while ago that the diva was an Obama supporter. She even said "I want my Barack Obama" I was so proud to be the mother of such a pollitically minded child. All that has changed. The Diva has figured out that a really good way to make mommy crazy is to say "John McCain" when I ask her who our next president should be. I do think it is pretty cool that she can identify both Barack Obama and John McCain, but come on now. She knows how I feel about this election. And I have over 27 years on her, she should defer to my expert knowledge. But oh no, this Diva thinks she has all the answers.

The other day when getting ready for work and preschool, the diva was drawing on her magna doodle. The conversation went down like this:

Diva: This is my job.
Me: What is your job?
Diva: It is my job to draw the President.
Me: Oh really? It is your job to draw the President?
Diva: Yes, President John McCain.
Me: Diva!!!!!! We want Barack Obama to be the next president!
Diva: Nope, it's John McCain. (giggling)
Now I start to get a little irrational-
Me: Diva, explain to me WHY you want John McCain to be president, do you support his beliefs?
Diva: John McCain John McCain John McCain!

Today I have no choice but to bring the Diva with me when I vote. So I am delighted that the little traitor has to watch me vote for Barack Obama. Sorry Diva and John McCain, but it's my vote. In another 16 years miss political opinions can vote for whoever she wants.