Do They Make Margarita Popsicles?

Internet, I present to you our forecast for the next 7 days:

Welcome to the surface of the sun!

The entire summer has been like this.

I'm starting to believe that God hates me.  And all of the Midwest.

What other explanation is there?

Flash Dance

Proving that no accessory is off limits to Paige.

"Look at deez boots! And dis hat!"

After getting completely dressed, Paige asked "what weapons come with this costume?". 

She was very dissatisfied when I replied "your feet".

This is NOT the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

My sister-in-law, upon reading my blog from yesterday, sent me THIS photo today.

I would name her "Dottie". 

That, my friends, is a bunny AVAILABLE FOR SALE at this very moment.

Which was either very sweet of my SIL, or very cruel.

One of those.

And on an entirely different and un-related topic, I was perusing Pinterest this afternoon (it has SO become my guilty pleasure) and I kept seeing pins relating TO CHRISTMAS.

I kid you not.

There are people out there (LOTS OF THEM) who are currently thinking about CHRISTMAS.

AREYOUKIDDINGME?

At the very moment I was viewing those pins about advent calendars and holly wreaths and festive pumpkin pie bites, it was ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE DEGREES outside my window.

In the shade.

Just... what is wrong with people?

Cure For All That Ails You

I had a crummy day today.

A pet bunny would make everything better.

Of course it would.

Dear Paige

Dear Paige -

You came downstairs this morning tousle-haired and pajama clad wearing one high-heeled shoe and one bunny slipper.

You simply couldn't decide which to wear, so you wore both.

And last Friday you wandered into the kitchen carrying not one, but THREE purses and a magic wand.  You dictated a grocery list to me (pasta, sauce, macaroni, suckers), then tucked it neatly into (one of) your purses and announced you were off to Homeland. 

Then you walked out the back door.  With your wand.  And your purses.  And your list.

I stood there watching you out the window wondering if I should call Homeland and tell them to expect a demanding three year old.  I wouldn't put it past you to walk all the way there. 

I find myself a bit intimidated about parenting you.  You are the little girl I wish I'd been.  You do not worry.  You do not hesitate.  You dive right in to everything. 

I love this about you, but I wonder what sort of example I can possibly set for you.  I'm a look-before-you-leap sort of person.  You?  Not so much. 

How will I parent someone so different from me?

You are such a girly girl. 

You insist on wearing princess dresses and fairy wings on most occasions.  Which is odd, as you have not watched any princess movies.  Or fairy movies for that matter.  Is this whole princess thing just seeping into you through, what, the water?  Or perhaps is it the very air you breathe?

The other day you wore your princess dress WHILE fighting your brother's friends with a light saber.  You had to halt the battle TO STRAIGHTEN YOUR TIARA.

And what's amazing is, those boys WAITED on you. 

I hope this is a metaphor for your life.

I cannot wait to see what you become.  My little sword-wielding tiara-wearing girl. 

Love,
Momma

Still.

.

I woke up at 4:20 this morning panicked about the fact that I hadn't heard from the principal of William's old school.  I wrote her a letter (via email) last week explaining that we would not be back for the 2011-2012 school year.  And she never responded.

Probably because, oh I don't know, SHE'S BUSY RUNNING A SCHOOL.

And yet, my brain was so distraught that I was forced to GET UP at the ungodly hour of 4:20am and RE-WRITE the email in case she didn't get mine from last week.

What the heck, BRAIN?

As a result of my early morning freakout, I spent the rest of today in a sort of fog.  Which meant that I really wasn't very productive.  I'd start a project, and then wander off halfway through only to come back hours later to find things like a half-empty dryer or a partially unloaded dishwasher.

But the fog also turned out to be a good thing. 

I was still today.  I was too tired to be busy.  And being still allowed me to just BE.  And it made me really appreciate my little children.  They were just like they always are - funny and sweet and delightful (and sometimes aggravating) - but today I was still long enough to notice.

At one point, Paige wandered in with a gigantic make-up brush in her hand.  One I'd donated to her "peetend" box (full of fake jewels, plastic high-heels, and even a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff).  She asked me to sit down so she could "make me up".

I sat cross-legged on the floor facing her with my eyes closed while she brushed my cheeks, my forehead, my chin while whispering things like "just a little more here" and "hold vewwy still momma". 

I could smell her sweet breath.  Her tiny fingers gripping my chin to hold it at just the right angle.

I held very still indeed.

Scenes From My Weekend