Crazy-Eyed Killa

Friday. House inspection day. Good report. Tried new restaurant. Nothin' swanky; kid friendly environment a must. Had a fish bowl-sized Margarita. Hubby had dos. Almost went to look at stainless steel bottom freezer fridges and other various impressive appliances. Didn't make it due to the crazies. I think you know who I'm referring to here.

Meditating on the Proverbial Manny

The kiddos have been out of town since Thursday and it's taken a few days to train my brain. For example, I was cleaning the house while listening to music (I know, what a vacation) and I swear I heard L chattering in the baby monitor. Also, I'd get out of the mini van and have to reassure myself that I didn't leave them in the car. I'm just about totally cured of my delusions and hallucinations today (sat.) and miss L comes home tomorrow.

The dogs, regrettably, are now SPOILED. (Hey, I guess we had to spoil someone.) Our German Shepherd is now officially the whine gold medalist in our house (he's whining, as I type, with his big red rubber ball in mouth ready to fetch) but when miss C comes home she's sure to regain her title and remain the reigning whine champion. I miss her sweet little munchkin voice.

It's back to mommy-ing tomorrow. I did get loads of laundry done and watched some TV. It was nice doing chores in silence and being able to turn up trance/techno music while working out and not worrying about waking the children. I also drove around and looked at neighborhood prospects for the near future without complaint from the little munchkins who are usually in the backseat wanting/whining for teddy grahams or juice like little junkies jones in' for their next crack fix. Oh, how I miss my sweet little juice junkies but I'm thinking a Manny would be a nice addition to our daily household.

Matchy-Matchy

We got out of the house today, finally. I say finally because it's been raining here for three days straight which makes it tough with a three-year-old and, not to mention, the dogs which have to be taken out on a leash to do their business. (No fence = daily bummer) Even tougher when the three-year-old insists on "helping" and holding the leash which inevitably gets "accidentally" dropped in a pile of muddy water which scares the Chihuahua and makes him bolt-off like he's been walking in the desert for days and finally spots a Taco Bell in the horizon. That's how I spell F-U-N! Chasing a tiny chihuahua who's wearing a small but very cute, yellow rain coat in my sweat pants and no bra- (yes I did, however, have on a shirt) in the rain and all the while ducking as if this would somehow make the neighbors not recognize me. Very embarrassing but in hind-sight funny situation - stressing the HIND sight here.

I guess this makes me one of those annoying girls who dresses their dogs in clothes and has to dress my daughters in matching outfits every now and then too. (and I guess this also makes me one of those annoying girls who doesn't wear a bra in public. Nice.) Yeah, you should have seen this spectacle - talk about Girls Gone Wild. I was wild alright- Steaming hot, also! But not with sex-appeal. Let's just say I felt a touch of frustration. Well, I got over it but it did make me second guess that time in South Padre on Spring Break when I turned down the chance to enter a wet tee-shirt contest. Not that I would actually ever enter one but because I know I will never EVER have that offer again in my lifetime it makes me second guess myself. Trust me, I won't go into the gory details but NEVER again will anyone think that I'm a candidate for that.

The rain is suppose to continue through this Friday. So I guess this means I need to head off to Pet-Smart to get a large but very cute yellow rain coat. We have a German Shepherd, Atticus. Gotta keep the pattern. Gotta keep the pattern.

ha. ha. Kidding. Kidding.

Ah, the fresh smell of Ozone

As you can see from the pictures, the children started out very civilized in their Sunday best, only it was Saturday and we were headed out to go shopping - a sacred family event, of course. Chloe was pondering on, oh, I don't know, things like string theory, wormholes, and just who/what this ultimate observer is anyway. Ya know, your everyday basic ponderings on the theoretical sciences.

Chloe says to herself,

"Hmmm, I wonder if Steven Hawking got that email about my breakthrough on time machines."

Just the night before she said,

"No, I don't want to read Good Night Moon! Gosh mommy, brush up on your conceptual foundations of quantum physics, already!"

Me with eyes open widely and nothing else to say, "Okaaay."

And in the picture below that, Libby is wondering when I'm going to take that damn foo-foo bow off of her head.

Well, we headed off to shop at the all-mighty Sam's Club. (No, there's not a Cosco nearby, darn-it.) Alan and I, in the spirit of Memorial Day weekend, purchased two huge maroon (Gig Em Aggies! whoop!) beach- chair loungers with the ever so crucial drink holders, that are not on one, but on both arms!

We idealized laying side by side, the wind in our hair, the lush trees at our feet and gazing up high in the sky at the exotic birds that fly by our deck. Wow, what a view! Wow, what a margarita! Another? Of course, I'll have another. Got any tiny umbrellas too?

Crack! Here came the dark rolling clouds and we instantly scattered like teenagers at a busted house party.

Well, it did take a little vocal prompting (okay, nagging) to convince Chloe to get off of daddy's lounger that she had stolen earlier after he went to make us more drinks. But Daddy was happy to stand on the deck and let Chloe relax excitedly on the lounger. That is, until this fast-moving, water-producing storm showed up. (Libby was inside napping at this point) (Chloe nap? Never.)

Somewhat giddy at this point, we hurriedly swooped everything up and rushed inside. Thundering loudly. Big heavy rain drops. Ah, the smell.

We went to the lower level and before we knew it, somewhere between the x and y margarita, we had let Chloe get virtually naked and start rain dancing out on the deck. Instantly, her civilized ways went feral . Oh, what a feral exhibit. Little feral one. Our little feral child. Queen to all the docile, cultured domestics turned beastly, savage bruts.

Again, I say feral.

Little Miss Bossy Pants

My three year old little munchkin, C, is so incredibly bossy that I told my husband yesterday that we need to have yet another kid just so she can direct her overwhelming bossy energy at someone other than us. (1) Well, he wasn't too keen on the idea considering that we have a seven week old. I guess our dogs will keep her busy doing as she commands for now; Although, they may not live up to her ever so demanding high standards.

"Dance Chuy ! Dance!"

She says in her tiny little munchkin voice to our eight pound chihuahua who thinks he's a cat.

"I'm sure Chuy would dance if he knew how to, Chloe, but doggies don't understand how to dance." I try to explain. (2)

"Mommy, tell Chuy to dance." she persists.

She says it with a certainty that I can somehow make this happen, like the time a thunderstorm was rolling our way as we were coming home from our fav Mexican restaurant.(3) As we pulled into our neighborhood, the sky lit up with a lightening bolt and then another. Chloe squealed with delight and then she waited for about a nanosecond and said

"D0 it again mommy!"

My heart melted; she wanted mommy to make the sky light up with lightening bolts. I, of course, reluctantly explained that mommy can't control the weather. (4) Why reluctantly you ask? Well, as a parent ...no...... as a mommy I wish I could stay that end-all be-all that C saw through her eyes at that moment and control her world forever. But as a parent I knew that I couldn't take credit for the miraculous light show in the sky. Besides, I couldn't bare to send her off to kindergarten someday telling her classmates and teachers that mommy makes the sky light-up. What would the other parents think? Uni bomber? Or even worse, that I lied to my child. Oh well, I've come leaps and bounds from controlling the lightening bolts, let me tell you. Now I don't even have control of the living room - toys everywhere- much less the heavens. Captain of the control boat has officially declared mutiny! Full on mutiny, I tell you! (5)

Just last weekend my husband and I overheard Chloe's conversation with our 6 year old little neighbor boy, Chris.(6) She was out on our deck eating the proverbial peanut butta jelly sandwich and talking this poor kid to death! He couldn't get a word in as C was telling him to go get his dog and then she had to go get her dogs. Then she pointed out to him that she has not one but two dogs. She also pointed out so eloquently that

"Your dog can't talk!"

as if to imply somehow that her dogs can talk. Aah, already the master at maintaining a little bit of mystery with the fellas. You go! Okay, I'm back now.... where were we? Oh yeah, then little miss bossy pants demands to know where Chris's daddy is.

She says,

"Where's you daddy? Is he in your house?"

Um, this must have been a rhetorical question because without any time for Chris to respond, C yells,

"Daddy come out here!" to her own daddy.

And as my husband kindly follows her demands almost before he could put one foot down on the deck C looks at Chris and says,

"Chris, say hi to daddy!"

Well, my husband really liked this. He plans to use this phrase again in about eleven/twelve years - well probably, in his mind, he thinks he can keep this little phrase in his back pocket for the next..say.. fifteen to twenty years. (Sorry honey, C will probably be dating before she's twenty something.) But he plans to say it in a Dirty Hairy tone while clutching a shot gun. 

Little miss bossy pants is about to wake up from her nap and start the bossing so I'd better get her juice cup ready, if not, I have a sneaking suspicion that it will be the plank for me!




1.) Okay, I know, I know that's NO good reason to bring another child into the world.

2.) Excluding those creepy animals I've seen on America's Funniest Home Videos which has, so cleverly, been changed to AFV.

3.) Yeah, this was back when Chloe actually ate food.

4.) Jeez, I wish I could control the weather come January in the Northeast!

5.) For those of you who don't know, the Captain I'm referring to used to be me, well, no I'd say that I was co-captain (have to be pc) my hubby, of course, was captain, but no longer, my friends!

6.) Okay so we were eavesdropping. Give us a break, we weren't invading the poor little boy's privacy because it was more like a soliloquy anyway!