Dork

We looking more positive for Thursday's school song performance. Ana has taken to asking for the "God songs" when we are in the car and is starting to memorize the words. The downside is that we are too.

Do you know how embarrassing it is to be busted at Target singing:

L-I-V-E
Live and love
L-O-V-E
From above

Hello, have we met? I'm a 33 year old cheerleader.

Easter Potty Humor

Pardon the coarseness of this post, but you need some background information. In our family, going #1 on the potty has morphed into "peep", as in Do you need to go peep? Mom, I have to peep! Ana, you're doing the peep dance - I know you have to go.

Anywhoo, we were at Walgreens last night and Ana spotted the Easter aisle. We went slowly down the row of goodies, talking about each one. We got to the brightly colored Peeps - and as they now have pink, Ana was beside herself. Oooh! I want these! I want these in my basket! What are they?

Not thinking about the larger consequences, I replied, Peeps.

Huh, huh, huh. Ah, huh, huh, huh. That's yucky. Huh, huh, huh. I still want them.

Not sure which part was more disturbing to me - the thought that they were truly made of peep, or the fact that she still wanted them.

Role Playing

One of our anxiety coping strategies is to act out various situations, allowing Ana to practice using her words to express her feelings and ask for what she needs.

Tuesday, on the ride home from preschool, she asked me to play the part of Joshua who took some scissors away from her before she was done using them. An easy part, I just talked loudly, made some grunting noises, and acted grabby. Chickie seemed to be satisfied with my performance because she told me that she wasn't done and that it was still her turn (hooray!).

She asked to go through it again, so I started my Joshua imitation up once more.

No! No! This time you be the scissors!

Uhhhh.....

Don't Bring The Video Recorder

I am a little concerned about Ana's upcoming preschool concert.

Apparently the class has been practicing their songs in music time for quite a while now. Helpfully, the school made a cd of the performance songs for parents to take home so that the children could practice outside of school.

I was excited to hear the little darling sing her heart out over Jesus, so I popped the cd in in the car the very afternoon they gave it to us.

What's that songs? I don't know this music. I want my Mary Muffins. (Mary Poppins)

It appears that our bug will be the one in the front row picking her nose.

That Has To Hurt!

Old Macdonald had a cow
E-O-E-O-E
And on that cow he had a sheep (?!?)
E-O-E-O-E
With a moo moo ear
and a moo moo ear
Ear a moo
Moo a moo
Oooh Ooooh Oooh

We're Having A What?!?

Ana to Little Girl (LG) at the park: Is that your sister?

LG: Yep. Her name is Andrea.

Ana: I'm having a brother or a sister or a kitty or a dog. I don't know what.



(For those who are wondering, no, I'm not pregnant. We're in the process of adopting #2, although those plans are currently on hold indefinitely. Especially if the birthmom will be delivering a "kitty or a dog"!)

Mum's The Word

This morning as we lay in bed:

rustle, rustle (sound of foil packaging being manhandled in the other room)

Knowing she was up to no good - and probably in Daddy's stash of granola bars, I tried:

Ana? Come climb in bed and talk to us.

Okay, but I'n not gonna talk about this bar.

Crafty adult: 1 Innocente: 0

Ouch!

Last night I cut my finger - bad enough to need stitches. This would be the third time that I have done this to a finger. This fact got me thinking...

- From age 23 (when I started cooking) to age 33 - 3 cuts requiring stitches
- Figure I live until the ripe old age of 88 - that's 55 more years to go
- 3 cuts per every 11 years = 15 more cuts = 2 per finger on my right hand, 1 per finger on my left (Can we say attractive, anyone?)

Conclusion: I will no longer feel bad about serving mac n cheese or ordering pizza in for dinner.
Less carnage.

I'll Take Some Cotton Candy

Sweet Pea knows how to make all things more exciting. Her current favorite princess story is the story of Ariel, and how the little mermaid wants to go to the surface to see Prince Eric. Told by Miss Pea, however, it goes like this:

I am Ariel and I have a fancy marry dress. I want to go to the circus (surface) and see Eric and get married (hence the fancy "marry" dress). We will live happily in the after.

Now, that would be a princess movie I'd like to watch - kind of like a cross between Ariel and Dumbo.

Mommy Lets Me Do It

Papa Bear is proving that he is no match for Ana and her girlie wiles. The other night she talked him into putting her to bed in her princess crown, with the shades wide open, books in arms reach, and her panties inside her sleep diaper.

We were returning from a trip to Pittsburgh and Ana was not supposed to see us until the morning, so we couldn't call up to her and tell her to stop playing princess and reading books to Elmo.

The fun lasted until midnight, when the princess finally pooped out. It ended at 6:30 when so did the panties.


The drawing below was made for Ana on her easel by Papa Bear (notice the back of the "Prince's" pants).

Do not trust him with your children.

Stupid Cupid

Only because she is nearing her 81st birthday does my grandmother get a pass on this one.

By now, we all know that Ana is having trouble making nice with others. She means well, she is just jumping to the conclusion that kids (and adults) are out to take her toys, her aisle at the store, her lane on the street, her air that she's breathing, etc.

Anywhoo, with that in mind, we have been coaching her that people are inherently good and that they are happy to meet her and to be her friend. Unfortunate then, the choice of singing teddy bear that Nanny gave to Ana for Valentine's Day. Here is what she sings, and what Ana has learned to sing along with her:

Stupid Cupid, you're a real mean guy
I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly
I'm in love and it's a crying shame
And I know that you're to blame

Stupid Cupid, stop picking on me.

Nice...

Justifying

How can it be that I had never set foot in a Crate and Barrel before today?!? That place is my own personal Nirvana. Clean lines, crisp whites, bold, bright colors.

However, I am nothing if not practical (someone, whose name rhymes with Spot, might choose the word stingy). I tend not to buy for myself, but if it's needed for someone else, I will spend in a heartbeat - especially if that someone is my Lady Love.

Me at C&B:

Ana would LOVE this beautiful glass bowl!
I can just see this white bedding set in her room!
Oh, and this mango pitter - just wait until she opens that up!

You'll be happy to know that I left empty-handed (but I WILL return).

Burnt Rolls

Nana cooked dinner the other night. The pork roast wasn't quite done, so the family sat down to salad.

As Ana is the head of the local Salad Haters Anonymous chapter, she helped herself to a roll, which, unfortunately, Nana had burnt.

Mmm! Yummy! You cooked a good dinner, Nana! I luuuuv this dinner, Nana!

Hmmm...I can take a hint when I hear one. If you're looking for my apron, it will be hanging in the pantry.

Jealousy

We are starting to figure out the true words behind Doodle's threats to others. For example, I now know that when Doodle saw another little girl de-coating at preschool and said,

I'm gonna hit her and take her dress and hit it and not be nice and hit her again,

what she really meant was,

My that is a lovely pink frock you are wearing. I truly admire the style! Ah, if only t'were mine, I would be so fulfilled.

I explained this to the other little girl, quite clearly I thought, but for some reason I got the impression that she didn't believe me.

90210

I forgot that I had enrolled my daughter in a preschool in Westlake. Westlake, for those who are out of the loop, is the 90210 of Austin, TX. Not in drama (although I may learn about that too), but rather in flash/bling/or whatever you want to call it.

Luckily the Little Lady had yet to learn that her mother is a slacker. I figured I could get away with it for a couple of years before she started comparing me to the other mothers. At that point, I fully intended to up my game; but, for the meantime, I was coasting.

Coasting...right to a stop. Today was the preschool Valentine's Day party. Holy Loot, Batman!! Chickie brought home more chocolate than Scott has given to me in an entire marriage worth of Valentine's Days.

Let's compare, shall we?

Ana's gift to classmates: one small princess themed card with a heart-shaped red lollipop stuck through two pre-punched holes.

Owen's gift to classmates: one heart-shaped box of Elmer's New Orleans Original chocolates - "hand-crafted chocolates from the finest selection of cocoa, caramel, truffles, and cremes". As if this wasn't enough, he also included a red heart-shaped lollipop with a much longer stick than Ana's - of the long-stem variety, I guess.

Caden's gift to classmates: a goodie bag tied with a Valentine's Day themed ribbon, containing one box of Brach's conversation hearts, a bag of Hershey Kisses, a packet of Fun Dip, a bag of gummies, and a red heart-shaped lollipop.

Poor little Ana. Her Mom is clearly sub-par in the impressing other mothers department. I think I am going to go and console myself now. Now...where did I put Owen's chocolates?

Krazy Glue

Krazy Glue really will glue your fingers together.

It will also glue Baby Jesus' head to your thumb.

Painfully, I might add.

We're Toast

If your 3 year old asks you where the glue is, be afraid. Be very afraid.

While I was showering this morning, Ana found a little statue of Joseph holding Baby Jesus. The first time we brought the statue home, Ana dropped it, breaking off Joseph's head. This created much debate over how to properly handle the situation - to glue or not to glue? Would Joseph want his head glued back on, or would he prefer lots of we're sorry prayers and a nice burial? After much angst, we opted to glue his head back on rather than replace the statue, and life went on with no apparent fallout.

This morning, Ana decided to finish off the job. Now both Joseph AND Baby Jesus are headless. To add insult to injury, I had to fish their heads out from under the couch - where they rolled after the beheading. Even Ana seemed to get that this wasn't such a good thing:

Oh, Baby Jesus, he is not happy. He does not like for his head to be in the couch.

You think?

We will be spending the rest of the afternoon inside as a storm is rolling in and I'm not really partial to the idea of being struck by lightening.

Silly Grown-ups

Thank the Lord that adults aren't as dumb as they make us out to be in children's programming. Our planet would fall apart.

Have you ever caught an episode of The Imagination Movers? Scott and I were trapped into watching them at Gatti-Land the other day and I could literally feel my IQ dropping as I stared at the screen. Duff from Ace of Cakes guest starred and he couldn't remember what he put into his "special" muffins to make them special. Now, that could have been one way to improve the show - I could name a dozen different ways to make a muffin special, but I digress.

5 grown men had to taste the muffins. They had to bust out some big nose sniffer thing to smell the muffins. They had to consult with a sock puppet, who shockingly could not figure it out either, despite the fact that one of the clueless men had his hand up its backside. That would have made me guess it in a hurry.

Finally, after 30 minutes of angst, they realized that the secret ingredient was strawberries.

Brilliance.

Bbbttttt sppppt. (sound of me blubbering and drooling)

Bragging

Doodle is smart
Doodle is brave
Doodle is my hero

So, it turns out that Ana Bug's behavior has been a result of something larger - it seems that she is wrestling with an anxiety disorder at the moment. Thanks to wonderful people, we have some strategies to help her and have been employing them for the last week.

Doodle has picked it up and is running with it.

Clearly she does not take after her mother. I would need years and years of therapy before you would even notice a tiny change in my behavior. Not my girl. She is even starting to coach me:

When you go 'round new people, sometimes you get nerbus. You don't have to talk ugly. You can hug my leg or sit in my lap. I will help you.

An added bonus - As she is proving herself to be a quick study, we can now decrease the monthly amount that we put into therapy for her adult years to undo all of the damage that we cause her. Score!

Threats Work

I have discovered the secret to getting Ana to sit down in her chair at a restaurant - vague threats of the waiter mafia.

Doodle (aka Doodlebug) and I went on a date together to a "Fancy Nancy" restaurant - Cheesecake Factory. Our local CF is PERFECT for my girl because it has a dome on the outside, lots of gold accents on the inside, and classical music playing at all times. Why is that perfect? Because, since it has all of those things, it must be a castle, and we must be going to the ball. Duh.

Despite our fancy surroundings, Ana kept wanting to pop out of her seat, or stand up on it, or kneel backwards, or just fall out of it altogether. That is, until the first baby cried.

What's that? Why's that boy crying?

He's crying because he wasn't sitting down in his seat and they told them that he broke the sitting-down-in-your-seat-chair-rule so now he has to leave and go home.

Look of shock

When the second kid cried not two minutes later and the story was repeated, I would have thought Ana super glued her rear to the chair, such was the length of pants to seat contact.

I love those evil waiters and their terrible rules.

Goldilocks

In a rush to see a potential house, I brought Ana along to meet the agent. She did great and made herself right at home while we chatted and looked around.

After an exceptionally long silence, however, I pulled myself away to find out what she was up to. Darling Goldilocks had made her way upstairs, pulled down the covers of one of the beds, and was pretending to sleep away.

She did remember her manners, however. She had taken her shoes off and neatly placed them beside the bed before tucking herself in.

Close

"Someday ovah the wainbow

Blue girls fly

Blue girls fly ovah the wainbow

Why den oh why can't my eye?"

Who Am I?

Further evidence that I am no longer the person that I once was. Out of my mouth to Scott:

Did you just do a stinky in there, because I have to peep?

N-iiiii-ce.

Jekyll & Hyde

My Bum Runneth Over

"Okay mama. Looks like you're gonna have to get out of my carriage now"

Today was a first! I got to be Cinderella while Ana played the part of the prince. I'm hoping that this was not because she was the one driving the mechanical toy car at the mall, and that she knows that girls can drive too, but either way, I'll take what I can get.

The prince commanded that I get into the coach so that he could drive me to the ball. I managed to squash in sideways and told him how excited I was to be going with him. Ungrateful guy - his response was - There's too much bum in this car. You're going to have to get out.

Snow White can have him.