Tonight Little Girl and I had the pleasure of going to see Social Butterfly’s dance recital. The Princess dances tomorrow, but we won’t be able to make it so we went to her dress rehearsal on Monday. SB did a great job, of course and looked beautiful on the stage! LG did a great job, too. She has never had to sit through a three hour event before. And although there was squirming. And squealing. And going back and forth between me, Marlene and Future Engineer. And more squealing. And laughing. And some of her own dancing to the music, she really did do a good job for being 18 months old. And maybe in a couple of years or so, we’ll be watching HER dance, too. :)

Today I was reading to Little Girl. The book was one of the “Carl” books about Carl the helpful Rottweiler. Here’s a picture of Carl:

Little Girl kept calling Carl “woof” (which is what she calls all dogs), “good girl” (which is what she calls Melody), and “Bob” (the name of our Rottie mix who is no longer with us). Here’s a picture of Bob:

This would just be a cute, funny story except for one thing. Bob died before Little Girl was born.

Like read this and then like totally fess up dude. What slang do you use in your speech on a regular basis? Or are you a like totally rad speaker and never talk like you’re on the beach waiting for a wave? Like totally.

I’m do pretty well now. I used to have three really bad habits but a friend called two of them to my attention and Mike had been griping about the other one for a long time and so I broke myself of them for the most part. Sometimes they come out, but certainly never in important situations. And really, they didn’t come out so much in important situations before, but you know after a certain age, I think it’s time to talk like an adult and not a teenager. At least most of the time.

Anyway, my worst habit was using the word “like” alllll the time. “It was, like, so cool!” “I was, like, so mad!” “I’m like, oh my god!” That sort of thing.

The other one which I believe to be totally genetic even though I don’t remember anyone else in my family ever doing it, is when I would get sort of embarrassed or caught redhanded saying or doing something I maybe wasn’t supposed to or trying to get away with something, I would stop, kind of giggle and say “Hi!” with a goofy smile on my face. I have totally broken myself of that one now. But the funny thing is, Little Girl does it every now and then. She didn’t pick it up from me, because I had broken myself of it before she was conceived. So therefore, it must be genetic. Or something.

The one that drove Mike crazy? Do I really have to say? Do I? Oh fine then. I used to break into the whole baby talk thing, especially when I was trying to get him to do something for me. Not so much goofy baby talk words like “widdle Mikey wikey” or silly stuff like that, but the actual baby sound to my voice. Little baby girly girly sounds. I can’t explain it better than that. But it drove Mike crazy. I got to where I didn’t do it very often with Mike except maybe when I was sick, but Mike said I would always lapse into it when my father was around. Of course then my father started acting like an idiot, so I guess I just outgrew the whole thing. I don’t feel like his “baby girl” anymore and so I don’t act like his baby girl anymore. And besides, one cute little girl who talks like a baby is plenty around here don’t you think? ;)

Now it’s your turn. ‘Fess up to your silly speech habits. You know you have them.

Next time Mike complains about the clutter in the house, point to the garage and remind him that all 1100 square feet of that clutter belongs to him. And not all of the clutter in the house belongs to me. And that when the garage is uncluttered and clean, so will the house be. The end.

My father’s mother-in-law passed away this week. I have known the deceased my whole life. I have not known she who shall not be named my whole life. I have also known quite a few other members of the family my whole life. So what to do. Do I ignore the death because of the way I have been treated by she who shall not be named? Or do I find some way to show my respect to the family without singling out she who shall not be named? My thought is that I’m going to get a sympathy card and send it to their church. The pastor of the church is a grandson of the deceased and another one of her daughters attends there as well. So, I will address it to the family of … and leave it at that. That way, I’ve shown my respect to people who were a part of my life growing up, but I won’t have to have any direct contact with the person I detest most in the world. Do you all think that is a good compromise?

The three of us had a dinner date with some friends at 4 pm. Mike got home at 3:15 pm. I had to take a shower. Then he had to take a shower. While he was taking his shower, I got Little Girl dressed and in her shoes and tried to fix her hair. She really likes the whole idea of clippies, but she will not leave them alone. So, we went into the bathroom while Mike was finishing his shower so I could brush my teeth. I was trying to get the clippy in her hair. She was trying to get away from me. She trips on the bath mat and BAM face plants into the side of the tub. It wasn’t a totally direct blow because of where she was standing and the angle she was falling, but it was a pretty good thud. She of course starts screaming. I pick her up and see blood in her mouth and start freaking out. Mike opens the curtains and about that time she starts bleeding from the nose. He takes her and tells me to get a paper towel, which I do. And that’s when I start crying. He tells me to calm down and get a grip and I tell him that my baby is hurt and I can cry if I want to. After all this was the first major blood we’d ever had. And I was still doing what I needed to do – as in hand him paper towels. Did I mention she was dressed? Um yeah. So finally when I notice there are little drips of blood on her blouse, the girly girl in me takes over from the crying guilt-ridden mother and I get her top (which snapped in the back thank goodness) off of her and I take it to the laundry room while Mike takes care of the blood. Thank God I married someone who never EVER freaks out at the sight of bodily fluids. I grabbed the Tide To Go stick and went to work on the blood. I’m telling you. That stuff is amazing. If you don’t have one, go and get a bunch of them and stick them in your purse, your car, your briefcase, your diaper bag. Those things WORK. I got all the blood out and put her slightly damp shirt on her after we got her all cleaned up. Then we went to dinner. I guess I don’t have to tell you that we didn’t get there by 4 pm.

After we got home, accompanied by the visiting from out of town friend and his almost four year old daughter, we hung out and talked and then it was time for Mike’s band to come over to do some band photos in our front yard. I had been recruited by Mike to run the camera. Since P and C were there, I left them in charge of the munchkin and went outside to direct, focus and click.

We walk out and one of the guys says, “Hurry up, Mike and let’s get this done.” I said, “There is a little person in there who is more important than all of you.” (Was that bitchy of me?) Anyway, they get in position and I start taking pictures. Two of the guys were non-stop whining. “I hate taking pictures.” Over and over. Sheesh. Finally I said, “I can tell.” (I can’t stand grown men who whine.) I mean after all, I was taking time out of my life, away from my child and my friends who I hardly ever get to see to take their stupid pictures and all they can do is whine? GET OVER IT. SUCK IT UP. DEAL WITH IT. I swear, my 2nd graders didn’t whine as much in a month as they did in 15 minutes. Okay, to be fair, all of them were not whining. Mike wasn’t whining. The bass player wasn’t whining. The fiddle player wasn’t whining – he was just acting goofy. The other two? Whining. Ugh. I told Mike if I have to take pics of them again and they do the whining thing, I’m not gonna put up with it. Be nice or find another photographer. Wanna call me a bitch? Be my guest. But as I said, there’s a little person that is more important than any of them and she didn’t whine THAT much when she got a bloody nose. So GROW UP.

And how was your evening?

I wear glasses. I have an astigmatism and I am near-sighted. Oddly enough, when I went to get my eyes tested a few months ago, the eye doctor said my eyes had actually improved and that could be a result of pregnancy. The astigmatism had changed and he said that with all the changes in the body during pregnancy it’s not surprising that it could have happened. Hey, if I got a positive change in my body from pregnancy, I’m all for it.

I also wear glasses because I often get ocular migraines from bright lights. I wear my sunglasses outside and when driving during the day and I wear my regular glasses when I’m going to be exposed to really bright lights, like the lights we use for our monthly music gig at church. The anti-glare lenses help keep the bright light from adversely affecting my eyes and causing the ocular migraine.

Sunday we had our monthly church gig and I used my glasses. I usually take them off when I do my solos so they don’t mess up my field of vision when reading my lyrics. So I took them on and off throughout the afternoon. Then we did evening mass a few hours later and I usually do the same thing during mass – take them off for solos or during the sign of peace when I’m hugging people. I remember taking the glasses on and off and leaving them on my music stand at various times throughout the mass.

Then Mike and I went straight to a movie after mass. But when I reached into my purse to get my glasses so I could see the screen more sharply, they were nowhere to be found. I figured I must have left them at church and I’d get them Monday night when we did the 2nd part of our monthly music gig.

Monday night rolled around and as soon as I got there, I started looking for my glasses. I looked everywhere. Ev-er-y-where. No glasses. I went to the church office to check the lost and found. No glasses. I looked in the music folders in the car to see if they’d gotten shoved in with them the night before. I looked in the back of my car to see if they’d fallen out. I looked all over the music area some more. No glasses. Other people looked and still no glasses. So I figured somehow someway I’d lost them and I’d have to get new glasses. At least it wasn’t my prescription sunglasses so I still had those for when I was driving in the bright summer Arizona sun.

This morning Little Girl was doing something so adorable (pointing to her baby doll’s eyes and saying “eye” and then pointing to other body parts as I asked her to) that I had to call Mike on the phone to tell him about it. I dialed the phone and leaned on the kitchen island as I was telling him her latest feat. And just take a wild guess what I saw on the island? Yep. My glasses. How they got there I’m not sure, but there are two possibilities. The first possibility is that I’m losing it and I didn’t actually have them at mass and that I brought them home after the Sunday music gig and left them there (but I really remember having them at mass Sunday night – vividly – and picking them up as I was walking out of the choir area and besides, I didn’t see them on the island at any point before this morning). The second possibility is that they somehow magically transported themselves from church to my house.

I’m not sure if either possibility is good news. The only good news in this situation is that I don’t have to go pay for new glasses. I think my mom is messing with me from the great beyond. Either that, or I’m getting senile. Personally, I vote for my mom messing with me. Yep. That’s what I’m going with. Door number one.

I suck. For some reason unknown to anyone (including myself), I had Mr. Syndromes birthday written down on June 13. But his birthday is not June 13. It’s June 12. Which means I screwed up. Because I meant to put up a post here that said go tell him happy birthday! On his birthday. But I didn’t. Because I suck. *sigh* So, instead you’ll have to tell him happy belated birthday. But do tell him. Because he’s a good guy and I’m lucky to call him my friend. :)

I’m sure you’ve heard about this news story if you’ve paid any attention at all to the media today.

First of all, riding a motorcycle is inherently dangerous. Not wearing a helmet is just plain stupid. You’d think a Super Bowl champion quarterback would have a few more brains than that wouldn’t you?

The irony? As I was driving down the street this evening and listening to some of the commentary on the news about the knuckleheaded quarterback, I glanced to my right and what did I see? Another knucklehead on a motorcycle without a helmet. Idiot.

Kohl’s was having a big sale so I decided to go today…

First trip out the door, I had to turn around right after we walked out the door to make sure that I had my car and house keys in my purse. I did.

Second trip out the door, I had to turn around and go back in to check and see if I closed the door to Little Girl’s room so that Melody wouldn’t wreak havoc in there while we were gone. I had.

Third trip out the door, I had her almost in her car seat when I got a whiff of something not so pleasant. Back into the house to change a poopy diaper that would have been a blowout had I left it much longer. I should have checked before we left.

Fourth trip out the door, we actually managed to get in the car and go. Imagine that. I was almost too tired to go by that time, but we did. And got some cool stuff! Yay for shopping!

We actually managed to go to a movie on opening weekend for the first time since pre-pregnancy days. This evening after mass we went to see Cars. The animation was amazing. The beginning of it had me totally enthralled with how real the cars actually looked. The middle got a little slow. But toward the end, there was a nice tribute to Route 66 – The Mother Road – that got me a little teary-eyed. I remember when I was a very little girl traveling along Route 66 with my parents, and Cars brought back some of those memories…memories of a time when life was slower, more innocent, and all about small town America. Mike is a Route 66 buff, and one of our dreams is to travel Route 66 – the parts of it that are left anyway.

I know the interstates have saved us all a lot of time over the years, but really, was what we lost worth the time it saved? Maybe life was a little better when we didn’t rush everywhere and just took life a little slower. Maybe.

By the way, if you see Cars, make sure you stay past the ending credits or you’ll miss something!

Little Girl loves books. LOVES them. She likes to have them read to her. She likes to pretend she’s reading them. She likes to sit and just turn the pages and look at the pictures or the words. Already a book lover. She will also identify pictures of things when you ask her to. Today, though, she blew me away. She was looking at one of her library books. Here is the cover:

She was sitting by herself holding the book and looking at the cover and she said: ap-ple, ball, clock. No prompting. Just “reading” her book. Apple is a new word. I’ve been trying to teach it to her for months. But she always just called it a “ball”. But now she sees a red sphere and it’s an apple. Love that!

She also likes to form her fingers into the sign for “R”: so Mike taught her how to say “R”. And then later we asked her to show us “R” and she did!

The little wheels are turning and it’s amazing to watch them.

Oh and we went out to Denny’s with some friends for lunch today. Mike and I had breakfast because I wanted pancakes and we didn’t have anything to make them with this morning. Little Girl got her first taste of pancakes. And although I have no idea where on earth she actually PUT all that food, she ate at least an entire pancake by herself. Plus all the other bites of food she was getting from everyone’s plates. You know how they say that a toddler’s stomach is the same size as their fist? I think they’re crazy. Seriously crazy. Either that or they forgot to mention that they also have hollow legs.

True friendship means that you can get mad at each other and still love each other and need to make up quickly because you can’t stand being mad at each other. And hopefully, you’re both better for it.

I give you the movie I promised you yesterday with some extra cuteness thrown in.