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.