For Madilynn's seventh birthday last week, the only thing she wanted was to have her ears pierced. After school today, I surprised her with a trip to the mall to get it done. She was so excited on the way there that it got to be contagious; Emma, and even the boys, were begging to be allowed the coveted ear-holes.
I finally agreed (for Emma, not the boys) (I told the boys they had to wait until they were old enough to handle being called a punk by all our friends -- and only after their first tattoo), and Madilynn asked for Emma to go first so she wouldn't be so scared.
Emma bravely climbed up on the chair, sat down, and dealt with the pain. For a second. I think it hurt her more than she expected, and she didn't want to have the second one done. I had to appeal to her sense of vanity (by telling her the one earring would make her walk crooked for the rest of elementary school) to get her to do the second one.
As soon as she was done, she was was thrilled, and looked at herself in the mirror at the store for the rest of the time we were there. Madilynn was less than impressed. She immediately started screaming and running around the store, hiding behind display racks as if a crazed ear-piercing monster were on the loose.
When I managed to catch her, I told her that the drama wasn't needed. She could either sit down and do it, or we would leave. She decided to go through with it. Until the girl doing it showed her how it worked.
The running and screaming resumed, and I finally found her under a stack of wide-brimmed leather hats. She was terrified. I told her that I was, under no circumstances, coming back to the mall any time within the next two years (I was only being honest -- I hate the mall). That convinced her to climb back in the chair.
For an entire five seconds.
The look on her face was so classically terrified (wide eyes, ends of the lips drawn way down) that I couldn't continue to let her try. I paid for Emma's and tried not to go all HULKSMASHMADILYNN for dragging me to the mall for no reason.
I fully expected some serious jealousy on on the way home, complete with all the drama my little seven year old girly girl can muster, but it didn't happen. I see no future of pierced ears for the child -- she has been traumatized enough by the experience of watching her sister (who didn't even cry) and doesn't want any part of it -- even for vanity.
My Madi: Can do rounds and rounds of vaccinations just to prove to her brothers she isn't as big a wuss as they are, but she can't sit for some sparkles in her ears.
Sep 27, 2011
Sep 26, 2011
Tweets and Emergencies -- Both Fake
If you are on Twitter, you have to check out this site. It mashes up your previous tweets and makes them into wonderful things...I first saw it on The Bloggess, so props to her for giving me a new internet toy! Here are some of the suggestions I got:
The return of Huston's blanket fort, children to vote!
New Truck needs a chicken attack.
There comes a name! Working and do what I say already.
So far, today involved broken windows, the two?
Time to take a time in melted crayon, and putting children covered in life when you have to take a time. (I vote this one Most Profound)
There comes a time in the two thumbs, speaks a good look at yourself and putting children to vote!
Time to take a little French, and a name!
Working and putting children to take a liquor license? (This one I vote for Best Life Hack EVER)
Time to take a good look at yourself and wonder...how did I get here? And do what I say already. (This one is just true.)
Ok, so that was fun.
I took the kids to the fair the other day, and we were there for ten whole hours. It was so much fun! I don't know if all fairs are like this, but in our state, you get a People of Walmart parade as you walk around. Since that site already exists, I don't have to go into detail about that.
But I do have to tell you guys my one People of the Fair story. We were walking through a building when the alarm system sounded. It was a pretty tame alarm sound -- some beeping like when the security thing gets you at Walmart even though you didn't steal anything; then a woman's voice asking everyone to calmly leave through the nearest exit, there had been an emergency. Not really a big deal, I figured someone pulled the fire alarm or something. None of the employees were freaking out, so I was just doing what the robot told me: walking calmly to the nearest exit.
The next thing I knew, some woman came crashing through my family, using my children's heads to propel herself forward and yelling, "I don't know WHAT it is, but there's an emergency and I'm GETTIN' OUTTA HERE!" My kids were like, "Chill, yo." And I was trying to be mad at her, but I was too busy laughing at her. There is nothing worse than proving that you are a horrible person in the face of a fake emergency.
The return of Huston's blanket fort, children to vote!
New Truck needs a chicken attack.
There comes a name! Working and do what I say already.
So far, today involved broken windows, the two?
Time to take a time in melted crayon, and putting children covered in life when you have to take a time. (I vote this one Most Profound)
There comes a time in the two thumbs, speaks a good look at yourself and putting children to vote!
Time to take a little French, and a name!
Working and putting children to take a liquor license? (This one I vote for Best Life Hack EVER)
Time to take a good look at yourself and wonder...how did I get here? And do what I say already. (This one is just true.)
Ok, so that was fun.
I took the kids to the fair the other day, and we were there for ten whole hours. It was so much fun! I don't know if all fairs are like this, but in our state, you get a People of Walmart parade as you walk around. Since that site already exists, I don't have to go into detail about that.
But I do have to tell you guys my one People of the Fair story. We were walking through a building when the alarm system sounded. It was a pretty tame alarm sound -- some beeping like when the security thing gets you at Walmart even though you didn't steal anything; then a woman's voice asking everyone to calmly leave through the nearest exit, there had been an emergency. Not really a big deal, I figured someone pulled the fire alarm or something. None of the employees were freaking out, so I was just doing what the robot told me: walking calmly to the nearest exit.
The next thing I knew, some woman came crashing through my family, using my children's heads to propel herself forward and yelling, "I don't know WHAT it is, but there's an emergency and I'm GETTIN' OUTTA HERE!" My kids were like, "Chill, yo." And I was trying to be mad at her, but I was too busy laughing at her. There is nothing worse than proving that you are a horrible person in the face of a fake emergency.
Sep 19, 2011
I Don't Even Know
School has started and things have become crazy again. It's 10:00 and we just got done with homework. :::sigh:::
In other news, I got a job. Did I tell you that? I got a job playing pranks on Google. Or something like that. Also there is writing, so it's pretty much awesome. The un-awesome thing is that jobs want you to work and stuff. So for the last few weeks, I've been working from homework time (10 pm) to bedtime (2 am), and on Saturdays until I am done. This leaves little time for remember the funny stuff that happened to me while I was doing homework and Google pranking.
My sister sent me a picture of my little niece Boo, all dressed up in a Wonder Woman costume. Since my niece isn't as old as I, she doesn't know who Wonder Woman is. So she's going by...
Du-du-du-DAH!!!! SKIRTY GIRL! This continues to crack me up every time I think of it. Change the rules all you want, society, my niece is still Skirty Girl.
My kids' school has been totally screwing with me. Shocker, right? If you wonder why they want to mess with me, I will totally admit it's because I'm still a rebel and I hate their rules. Probably if I would just let my kids to go class in peace there wouldn't be a problem. But I just can't do it, yo. I think that over nine hours a day of sitting in a desk is forboring people grown-ups. Not for children. But hey, that's just my opinion.
Anyway, so the school has me pegged as a troublemaker and they are determined to make me see things their way. Except I hate when someone makes me do anything. And it causes a switch to flip in my brain which keeps me from being able to wake up to an alarm clock. See how this works? The more I get griped at, the later we will run each morning, because my brain HATES RULES.
I am going to take the kids to the fair tomorrow. We are skipping class, and we gonna party. As long as party means eat fried things on sticks and come home with aching feet cotton candy in our hair. But if my kids don't stop their bedtime party, I'm not taking them anywhere. This is why I have time to blog right now -- I can't work if six people are sitting right by my desk whining about how they can't sleep.
I have to ask, why would standing up and whining make is easier to fall asleep? I want to know. I asked the kids, but they just whined even more. They suck at philosophical questions. But for now, they are whining in bed instead of at my desk, so I'm back to work.
In other news, I got a job. Did I tell you that? I got a job playing pranks on Google. Or something like that. Also there is writing, so it's pretty much awesome. The un-awesome thing is that jobs want you to work and stuff. So for the last few weeks, I've been working from homework time (10 pm) to bedtime (2 am), and on Saturdays until I am done. This leaves little time for remember the funny stuff that happened to me while I was doing homework and Google pranking.
My sister sent me a picture of my little niece Boo, all dressed up in a Wonder Woman costume. Since my niece isn't as old as I, she doesn't know who Wonder Woman is. So she's going by...
Du-du-du-DAH!!!! SKIRTY GIRL! This continues to crack me up every time I think of it. Change the rules all you want, society, my niece is still Skirty Girl.
My kids' school has been totally screwing with me. Shocker, right? If you wonder why they want to mess with me, I will totally admit it's because I'm still a rebel and I hate their rules. Probably if I would just let my kids to go class in peace there wouldn't be a problem. But I just can't do it, yo. I think that over nine hours a day of sitting in a desk is for
Anyway, so the school has me pegged as a troublemaker and they are determined to make me see things their way. Except I hate when someone makes me do anything. And it causes a switch to flip in my brain which keeps me from being able to wake up to an alarm clock. See how this works? The more I get griped at, the later we will run each morning, because my brain HATES RULES.
I am going to take the kids to the fair tomorrow. We are skipping class, and we gonna party. As long as party means eat fried things on sticks and come home with aching feet cotton candy in our hair. But if my kids don't stop their bedtime party, I'm not taking them anywhere. This is why I have time to blog right now -- I can't work if six people are sitting right by my desk whining about how they can't sleep.
I have to ask, why would standing up and whining make is easier to fall asleep? I want to know. I asked the kids, but they just whined even more. They suck at philosophical questions. But for now, they are whining in bed instead of at my desk, so I'm back to work.
Sep 13, 2011
The Votes Are In
Thank you all for your submissions and your help naming the truck.
I really liked both final names, even though they were vastly different.
The winner is....
OPTIMUS PRIME!
First things first, right? After ball joints comes the semi grille....it'll be EPIC.
Also, a note to the reader who submitted "Greg". I never replied to your supportive post a few weeks ago, and I want to publicly thank you. Your comments have repeatedly lifted my spirits, made me laugh, and even shed a few tears. You are an AWESOME Interwebz friend. Also? Greg still cracks me up every time I think about it. Because, you know, obviously.
And to the rest of you, thank you as well. You guys have kept me cheerful when I was trying so hard not to be. I appreciate that, and in return, I will try to lay off the truck talk and bring back The Funny in the coming weeks. I love you all!
I really liked both final names, even though they were vastly different.
The winner is....
First things first, right? After ball joints comes the semi grille....it'll be EPIC.
Also, a note to the reader who submitted "Greg". I never replied to your supportive post a few weeks ago, and I want to publicly thank you. Your comments have repeatedly lifted my spirits, made me laugh, and even shed a few tears. You are an AWESOME Interwebz friend. Also? Greg still cracks me up every time I think about it. Because, you know, obviously.
And to the rest of you, thank you as well. You guys have kept me cheerful when I was trying so hard not to be. I appreciate that, and in return, I will try to lay off the truck talk and bring back The Funny in the coming weeks. I love you all!
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 11, 2011
C'mon Guys
So far, I have a bunch of name submissions and no actual votes. So...since the Interwebz closes for the weekends, I am going to update the list, and everyone can vote on the names.
Smurfburban
Cobalt Cab
True Blue
Mania Mobile
Boy Blue
Blue Lightning
Muscle Buster
This is the final list...you can cast your vote in the comments or go "like" your favorite on Facebook. You have until ten tomorrow evening.
Thanks!
Blue Burb of Happiness (A take on Blue Bird of Happiness)
George Straight (because he's awesome)
Optimus Prime (do I have to explain this one?)
Blue Pickle II (my mom's old blue kid-hauler - a 12 passenger van - was nicknamed "The Big Blue Pickle" by two of my friends from driver's ed)
Sammie the Suburban (another obvs one)
Greg (because why not??)
Super Sexy Hot Mama Suburban Machine (And yes, it IS.)Smurfburban
Cobalt Cab
True Blue
Mania Mobile
Boy Blue
Blue Lightning
Muscle Buster
This is the final list...you can cast your vote in the comments or go "like" your favorite on Facebook. You have until ten tomorrow evening.
Thanks!
Sep 9, 2011
Time to Vote!
Ok, the final submissions are in!
It should be noted that "The Truck" had a proper initiation into the family last night, when two hours after we bought it, Donovan pooped in it, Madi stepped in the poop, then walked literally on every square inch of the truck including five seats, two armrests, and many square feet of carpet.
This does NOT mean that anyone gets to call it anything having to do with poop. My life is already nicknamed after poop, so the truck doesn't get it.
I am not saying who came up with any names (Even if some of them have already been given away), just to be fair. I will explain a couple of them so you have the whole story. AND, if the name I came up with (and I won't tell which) wins, the prize will go to the first person who stuck with it on the Facebook feed.
BTW, if you aren't "friends" with LLB on Facebook -- WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Seriously, though, just search the fan pages for "Life's Laundry Basket". And the Twitter name is MannyTheRee. I demand followers.
Now :::drumroll::: cast your vote in the next 24 hours!
And here is a picture (that I tried to upload last night) to help you decide. You can cast your votes in the comments or on Facebook. I can't wait to see what you guys pick -- make it a good one, because his name is going in big letters on the back window!
It should be noted that "The Truck" had a proper initiation into the family last night, when two hours after we bought it, Donovan pooped in it, Madi stepped in the poop, then walked literally on every square inch of the truck including five seats, two armrests, and many square feet of carpet.
This does NOT mean that anyone gets to call it anything having to do with poop. My life is already nicknamed after poop, so the truck doesn't get it.
I am not saying who came up with any names (Even if some of them have already been given away), just to be fair. I will explain a couple of them so you have the whole story. AND, if the name I came up with (and I won't tell which) wins, the prize will go to the first person who stuck with it on the Facebook feed.
BTW, if you aren't "friends" with LLB on Facebook -- WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Seriously, though, just search the fan pages for "Life's Laundry Basket". And the Twitter name is MannyTheRee. I demand followers.
Now :::drumroll::: cast your vote in the next 24 hours!
Blue Burb of Happiness (A take on Blue Bird of Happiness)
George Straight (because he's awesome)
Optimus Prime (do I have to explain this one?)
Blue Pickle II (my mom's old blue kid-hauler - a 12 passenger van - was nicknamed "The Big Blue Pickle" by two of my friends from driver's ed)
Sammie the Suburban (another obvs one)
Greg (because why not??)
Super Sexy Hot Mama Suburban Machine (And yes, it IS.)And here is a picture (that I tried to upload last night) to help you decide. You can cast your votes in the comments or on Facebook. I can't wait to see what you guys pick -- make it a good one, because his name is going in big letters on the back window!
Sep 8, 2011
First Ever LLB Contest
Ok, Interwebz. It's official. We gotta come up with a name for my truck.
The winner will receive a fantastic (or not) gift, and an autographed photo of the new truck (autographed by him, of course).
These are the names that have been submitted via Facebook:
The winner will receive a fantastic (or not) gift, and an autographed photo of the new truck (autographed by him, of course).
These are the names that have been submitted via Facebook:
Blue Burb of Happiness
George Straight
Optimus Prime
Blue Pickle II
Sammie the Suburban
If you want to enter the contest, please put your submission in the comments below or comment on FB, and I'll have the final list available for voting tomorrow. Twenty-four hours, guys, because this is an emergency...I'm not sure I even feel comfortable driving it without a name.
We will vote on Saturday and the winner will be announced the following day.
Sep 7, 2011
Guess What? Chicken Butt.
Living in the county has its perks. I don't have to worry if the kids ride their bikes down the road, I know everyone around me, and if I hear a gunshot I feel more safe rather than less.
But there are also a few things that make life far more interesting than city life.
Like chickens.
Today, the weather was incredible and we had all the doors open while dinner was cooking. The kids were in and out of the house, riding bikes and checking in on their waffle status (because waffles for dinner? Heck yeah) The chickens (who don't belong to us) were running around the yard chasing grasshoppers and ignoring Shucks' requests to get in his belly.
Until one fowl rebel decides to come in the house and see what's up. The kids started freaking out "There's a CHICKEN IN THE HOUSE!!!!! MOMMMAAAYYYY!"
The chicken wasn't scared of the kids at all, but joined in on the freaking out because everyone else was doing it and she figured there must be a good reason. She also figured that reason was outside, so she ran further into the house. When chickens get freaked out, they also poop. So, quite naturally, she ran through Dalton's bedroom pooping all over the floor. When that got boring, she jumped up on his bed and pooped there too. Because really, why not???
We tried to shoo her outside, but she hadn't forgotten that the Thing About Which To Be Freaked Out was out there, and didn't want to go. So she ran into the girls' bedroom.
When I had a kid, we had a rooster named Loodle-Loo. Sometimes, to escape from our dogs, he would run into the house. Natural laws for the rooster, lined up exactly with my two year old brother's, including the "if I can't see you then you clearly can't see me" rule. So Loodle-Loo would hide his head in a corner and make worried clucking sounds until the dogs gave up.
I guess this is universal, because this chicken also hid her head in a corner. I tried to make her leave and go out, so she hopped into the girls' wardrobe and stuck her face in that corner. Eventually, I had to pick her up and take her outside and set her down. She glared at me without moving for a good thirty seconds, then strode away in a huff. I thought that would be the end of that.
Little did I know.
Halfway through dinner, I hear noises at the front door. Our little chicken friend had gone and told all her buddies that I was having a chicken tea party or something, because the entire flock was lined up on my front porch waiting to get in. I told them no, but one chicken didn't like that and I had to physically take her house of my house twice before I finally chased her all the way home and shut my gate and my front door.
And the moral of the story is: No matter how old my kids get, how well-trained my dog is, how many animals/children I don't let move in with me, I will -- forever and always -- be dealing with crap.
But there are also a few things that make life far more interesting than city life.
Like chickens.
Today, the weather was incredible and we had all the doors open while dinner was cooking. The kids were in and out of the house, riding bikes and checking in on their waffle status (because waffles for dinner? Heck yeah) The chickens (who don't belong to us) were running around the yard chasing grasshoppers and ignoring Shucks' requests to get in his belly.
Until one fowl rebel decides to come in the house and see what's up. The kids started freaking out "There's a CHICKEN IN THE HOUSE!!!!! MOMMMAAAYYYY!"
The chicken wasn't scared of the kids at all, but joined in on the freaking out because everyone else was doing it and she figured there must be a good reason. She also figured that reason was outside, so she ran further into the house. When chickens get freaked out, they also poop. So, quite naturally, she ran through Dalton's bedroom pooping all over the floor. When that got boring, she jumped up on his bed and pooped there too. Because really, why not???
We tried to shoo her outside, but she hadn't forgotten that the Thing About Which To Be Freaked Out was out there, and didn't want to go. So she ran into the girls' bedroom.
When I had a kid, we had a rooster named Loodle-Loo. Sometimes, to escape from our dogs, he would run into the house. Natural laws for the rooster, lined up exactly with my two year old brother's, including the "if I can't see you then you clearly can't see me" rule. So Loodle-Loo would hide his head in a corner and make worried clucking sounds until the dogs gave up.
I guess this is universal, because this chicken also hid her head in a corner. I tried to make her leave and go out, so she hopped into the girls' wardrobe and stuck her face in that corner. Eventually, I had to pick her up and take her outside and set her down. She glared at me without moving for a good thirty seconds, then strode away in a huff. I thought that would be the end of that.
Little did I know.
Halfway through dinner, I hear noises at the front door. Our little chicken friend had gone and told all her buddies that I was having a chicken tea party or something, because the entire flock was lined up on my front porch waiting to get in. I told them no, but one chicken didn't like that and I had to physically take her house of my house twice before I finally chased her all the way home and shut my gate and my front door.
And the moral of the story is: No matter how old my kids get, how well-trained my dog is, how many animals/children I don't let move in with me, I will -- forever and always -- be dealing with crap.
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