Drop In Art

This morning The Diva and I went to a drop-in art session downtown. It was our last day of vacation together (my last two vacation days next week will be Mama's Alone Time). The place is great, there were painting, collage making, and clay activities going on, and The Diva tried them all. We had a fabulous time, my only negative is that it seems these drop ins only occur on weekdays; a bummer for a working mom. Below is The Diva working on a mural. Hooray for art!

Klepto

If you are missing anything, chances are you'll find it in The Diva's Rose Petal Cottage. It seems that things in our house that have "mysteriously disappeared" are ending up there. Little thief.

New pets

Yesterday I suggested to Daddy-o that maybe we should get The Diva a fish. This was sort of a bad idea. Not the fish part, but the telling Daddy-o part. I should have mapped out a clear plan for the purchase of a pet fish. Daddy-o is one of the most impulsive people I know. He also thinks big. He takes a simple idea and makes in ginormous (and expensive). I thought getting a fish for The Diva would mean a bowl, a plant, some rocks, some food and a betta. Daddy-o had other plans. As soon as I suggested the purchase, he was urging me to get ready so we could go fish shopping. Then he got on the computer and found the tank he wanted to buy. I had no plans for a tank. Again, bowl + fish= good enough for me. The Diva would have thought it was just as cool. She's three. Then, we had to hurry off to Walmart to purchase the tank. The Diva had her eye on a kid friendly Sesame Street tank ( I was routing for her, it was cheaper), but Daddy-o won out. Then we had to coordinate the rocks and the accessories. Finally, we got to the actual fish buying part. The Diva picked two fish, and named them Goldie ( I am a little disappointed in her lack of creativity), and Maddy. For a minute she wanted to name one of them "Jude", but then changed her mind. I was hoping Jude would stick, as proof of my rubbing a love of The Beatles off on her. No such luck. When we got home Daddy-o immediately went to work on assembling his tank. I mean, The Diva's tank. I told The Diva I was going to keep the fish in the kitchen while we waited for their new home. To which she replied, "Are you making fish stew?" What was disturbing about this for me was that she said it so calmly. As if she didn't care if I made her new pets our dinner. Goldie and Maddy are now living happily in their tank in The Diva's room. They are safe from becoming fish stew. The Diva is loving feeding them and watching their fishy actions. All is well in The Diva house.

This girl

This girl steals my heart again, and again, and again.......

He's brainwashing her

Today The Diva was dancing and I said, "Wow, Diva! You've got some great moves!" To which she replied, "I get it from my daddy!" There has to have been some coaching on this one, I swear I've got rhythm!

Sharing

I have always thought I had pretty good manners. My mom was a real stickler, and it paid off. But I've noticed lately that I have this sharing thing all wrong. It seems that according to The Diva, "Please can I share?" means "Please let me have whatever it is you have, even if I have already had my own and that is the last bagel and you are starving.

Dear Asthma Flare-Up

Dearest Asthma,

We've had enough of your shenanigans. If it is attention you are seeking, I really think you get enough of that as it is. Don't you? Come on now, be reasonable. I know for the time being we are stuck with you (although we pray you disappear some day-no offense), but COME ON. Poor Diva has been through enough, and when I hear you rear your head in the form of a wheeze or a cough, I get really upset. We are happy to treat you with the utmost care, but if you would back off just a bit right now, we would appreciate it. Please don't go flare up on anyone else either. Just go take a break or something. Seriously.

Thanks,

Diva's Mama

It's quiet here

I am up for the day, getting ready for work. The Diva is not here. Daycare is closed today, so Diva is having a sleepover at Aunt Shell's. Lucky Aunt Shell has the day off today. I was looking forward to a morning of getting ready and heading out the door without having to get The Diva ready as well, since it never happens. But what I am finding is that I miss my girl. I am counting the hours until I can leave work and go scoop her up into my arms.

Love

In honor of Valentine's Day, a picture of my two loves. These two amazing people and I, (and my niece who I also love), will be heading to Lake Placid, NY today to see Disney On Ice. We are looking forward to our family date! Happy hearts and flowers to all!

And so it begins.

At the ripe old age of 3, The Diva has noticed that she looks different than her friends at school. The other night when I was helping her get ready for bed, The Diva said, "I want to cut my hair, so I can look like W, E, and L. W and E are boys at daycare, and L is a 2 year old girl. They all have short straight hair. I told The Diva that her hair was beautiful the way it was, and part of what makes the world so special is that everyone is different. People have all different skin colors (just like Diva, Mommy, and Daddy do), and people have all kinds of hair. I told her again that her hair was so beautiful. To which she replied, "Yes, and if I cut my beautiful hair, it will cry." The truth is if she cut her beautiful hair, not only would it cry, but so would I. My mom got The Diva a great book for her birthday called I Love My Hair. We read it often, and it really is a great book that celebrates hair like The Diva's. The conversation made me sad, because I have a feeling it is the first of many we will have. Sometimes it will be The Diva noticing her differences, and we will also have to deal with other's pointing them out to her. From day one we have been trying to instill self-confidence and self-love in our Diva, but it breaks my heart to think about her ever being put down, or feeling bad about the things that make her our beautiful, sweet, amazing blessing of a girl. And I know I am biased, but I happen to think her hair is quite fabulous!

Just her imagination

Every night, after bath time, when I am drying The Diva off, I tell her to raise her arms up and then I tickle her under her arms. Last night when I did this, The Diva said, "When I tickle Uncle Ronnie like that, he laughs and laughs." I froze in panic. The Diva doesn't have an Uncle Ronnie. We don't know anyone named Ronnie. I started racking my brain as to who could have been around my child for her to be tickling them underneath their arms. So I took a breath and asked her who Uncle Ronnie was.

The Diva: He's my friend
Me: Where did you meet Uncle Ronnie?
The Diva: At a restaurant. We were eating phones.
Me: How old is Uncle Ronnie?
The Diva: He's 40 years old.
Me: What does he look like?
The Diva: He's a big, big man, and he has sprinkles in his hair.
Me: What kind of sprinkles?
The Diva: Chocolate sprinkles.
Me: Where does he live?
The Diva: At home, with his mom and dad.
Me: What do you and Uncle Ronnie do?
The Diva: We like to take baths together.

So let's recap, shall we? My 3 year old daughter's imaginary friend is a large, ticklish, phone-eating middle-aged man who lives at home with his parents. And he likes baths. Where in the world does she get this stuff?

A Giveaway from C.Beth and Lisa Leonard

Check out C.Beth's blog for an awesome Lisa Leonard jewelry giveaway. Tell her I sent you!

http://cbethblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/lisa-leonard-jewelry-giveaway.html

It figures

That the day I run into my ex boyfriend in the grocery store is the day I have no make-up or hair product and am wearing a pair of jeans with a bleach stain on them and Daddy-0's big work jacket. Not that I care. Really I don't. I haven't seen the guy in 6 years. I am a happily married woman. But it would have made me feel a little better to run into the lying cheating loser looking fabulous. That's not too much to ask, is it?

I cried today

This morning I decided to tackle the dreaded task of going through The Diva's clothes, removing thoses items that no longer fit. For some reason it hit me hard today. Packing away those clothes is a harsh and obvious reminder that my baby is growing, and that time seems to be going by way too fast. I remember looking at some of those same outfits not being able to imagine them ever fitting my tiny little girl. Now the 3t jeans that fit her in the fall are attempting to become capris. While I love this age The Diva is at now (minus the tantums and battles of wills), I get sad sometimes thinking about those moments I won't ever get back.

Getting Funky

I'm in funk today. I am pretty sure I didn't wake up funky, but alas, the funk has settled in. If anyone else wants the funk, you are more than welcome to take it.

I carried a watermelon

Okay now, I know you are out there, so I want readers- commenters and blurkers alike to please comment on this post. I went out to brunch with my mom, the Diva, and my cousin C. C and I are six months apart and grew up together. C and I were talking about those "I carried a watermelon" moments. If you've seen Dirty Dancing you know what I'm talking about. And if you haven't seen Dirty Dancing then go watch it RIGHT NOW!!! So I'd like you to share your best "I carried a watermelon" moment. When you had every intention of saying something really cool and clever, but what came out of your mouth was anthing but.

I'll give you one of mine, there have been several throughout the years. When I was in college, I was hanging out outside the dorm one night with my friends. A cute guy that lived in our dorm came up and was talking about his experience at the county fair. I went to college in a little tiny town, where the county fair was a sight to behold. Cute dorm guy told us he milked a cow. We chatted a bit, and as he was getting ready to leave I said, "I'm glad you had a great milking experience!" Who the hell says such a stupid thing? A great milking experience? I was tormented my friends about it until someone else did or said something silly.
Come on now, share away!!!

Scared of what the future will bring

Last night the Diva was getting ready for bed. She had her jammies on, but the top wasn't buttoned (buttoning has not quite been mastered). She was standing on her stool, getting ready to brush her teeth. I was preparing her toothbrush when she started saying this, while staring into the mirror:

"Hi, I'm Diva and I like my boobies!"

I don't know where she gets this stuff, or what to do about it. Worst case scenario she'll be really popular at Mardi Gras some day.

Another reason I love my husband

I was washing my hair this morning bent over the bathtub. I took a shower last night but just wasn't feeling my hair. Daddy-o comes in and says, "Would you like some help?' And proceeds to rinse my hair out for me. Could I have rinsed my own hair, sure. Did it make it easier by having him do it? Yes. It's those little sweet gestures that keep me falling in love with him again and again.