don't spank me.

I have been in trouble for not blogging. My life has been nuts lately. I am going to try to catch up in 200 words or less, and with photos, and then maybe I will be back on track.

1. Having a pageant queen daughter is hard. They have all these obligations, and unfortunately, Elizabeth can't drive. Radio interviews, ribbon ceremonies (with cows), meetings, parades, fair presentations.... uggg. And she won first place in the art contest.




















2. Colby has been really sick. First he had a staph infection, and then he had an allergic reaction to the medicine. Unfortunately, I thought the allergic reaction was a virus, so between the throwing up and the diarrhea, I kept giving it to him... for a week. Then he puffed up like a balloon and I had to rush him to the clinic, where they inadvertantly prescribed an adult med for him... three days later and I still do not have the correct medication for him.















(this was how he was broken out all over. I didn't take a photo until I was sure he wasn't going to die.)
















3. Now I am sick. First it was a migraine earlier in the week, now I think I have pneumonia or something.

4. Marty just left on vacation. Without me.

5. Elizabeth joined the soccer team. I love that girl to death, but pretty much picture Paris Hilton playing soccer. We are working with her to be more aggressive. She has only had one practice, so I am sure I am being hard on her. Soccer.... That's hot.

So that is it, in a nutshell. Besides the typical things like a dirty house, and a mouse running across my foot and making me throw tea all over the kitchen and scream like a little girl, and being broke.

Hey, but it is Friday. That is worth something, right??

pomp and .... more pomp.

Well, I had avoided this topic like the plague, but looks like I am going to have to blog about it now...

It's pageant time again. The fair is this week, and Elizabeth wanted to enter again. So, we let her. We bought a pretty purple dress and the cutest little shoes you have ever seen.

A couple of weeks ago, the girls had their pictures made for the paper, and we found out that there were sixteen girls competing in her division. I kind of wrote it off there. She is one of the youngest in that group, and I just honestly didn't think she had a chance.

I guess I should just stop thinking. The pageant was last night.

oh brad!

I have come to a conclusion. We need to go back to silent tv and silent movies. Brad Pitt is ruining all my late night fantasies of me and him on the beach, in nothing but our bedsheets, frolicking in the incoming tide...

He says that he and Angelina will never wed until everyone in the country is allowed the same right. Does he think we really care if he and Angelina get married??? I am all for equal rights, but the way he is presenting it like it is an ultimatum... Ugh.

How is this? Until someone gives us $5,000, Marty and I are not going to rake our yard. HA!! That got you where it hurts!!

Then, he moves on to parenting.

"I try not to stifle them in any way," he says. "If it's not hurting anyone, I want them to be able to explore. Sometimes that means they're quite rambunctious."

"I feel it's really important to have that time to sit and talk to them," he continues. "I really like that last minute before they fade off. And always give them a heads-up before you jerk them out of something. You need to tell them, like, `You have three more minutes.'"

So, did you copy that STRAIGHT from the Dr. Spock book, or were you able to change the words around so that it sounded like you come to that conclusion on your own??

I have an idea, Bradley.

Shut up and kiss me.

Conversations with the Princess and the Parrot...

My children. Lord, I love them. They also have the ability to make me repeatedly bang my head into the wall.

The Princess: The princess lives in her own little world of make-up, pink, and clouds. She has a very hard time remembering day to day things, but can tell you all about her wedding, and the wedding CD that she is going to pass out to people AT her wedding. (Thanks, Misty!) She can also tell you all about what teenagers like, and how she wants her dream room. She can talk on the phone for HOURS, and yet cannot tell you the simplest thing about her day at school. She is SEVEN.

Friday, I pick her up from school, and after chitchatting a bit, I say, "Did you turn in your homework?"

She flips her hair, licks her lips and says, "OOPS! I forgot." In a little singsongy voice. "I will do it next week."

"Elizabeth, that is NOT the way homework works!! You don't turn it in when you feel like it!! You turn it in ON FRIDAYS, when it is due!!"

Her reply, "Ooops!!" My reply? *bang, bang, bang*

Today, I pick her up at school. She told me yesterday that she was running for school president and she had to have 10 signatures to be nominated. So I ask her, "Did you get your 10 signatures?"

"Oh, I got nine, I saved one for you!"

"Um, didn't you say that you had to turn it in today?"

"Yes."

"Where is it???"

"At school. I need you to sign it."

"HOW CAN I SIGN IT IF IT IS AT SCHOOL AND HOW CAN YOU TURN IT IN TODAY IF TODAY IS OVER??????????"

Elizabeth flips her hair and licks her lips and giggles, "Oooops! I don't know!!"

*Bang, bang, bang* goes my head on the steering wheel.

The Parrot: First of all, I am really not complaining all that much about my son. He literally just started talking two weeks ago. But he has this horrid habit of repeating the last word I say, and then asking why. FOR INSTANCE, this morning, we are driving to school:

Colby: (pointing out the window) Whas Dat?
Mom: It is a church
Colby: Church? Why?
Mom: Because that is what the builders built it to be.
Colby: Be? Why?
Mom: Because I guess that is what God told them to do.
Colby: Do? WHY?
MOM: Because people need a place to worship.
Colby: Erchip? WHY?
Mom: So they don't go to hell.
Colby: Hell? WHY?
MOM: Because that is where they go if they are bad and don't worship.
Colby: Erchip? Why???
Mom: *bang, bang, bang*

He also is asserting his power over me. I got a note yesterday that he peed and pooped in the potty all day at school. He seriously wore the same pullup all day. No accidents. I bring him home and ask him if he needs to peepee.

"Nope." He says.

I put him on the potty anyway. He cries. "Coppy down! No peepee pah-hee!"

And then promptly peed in his diaper.

The other night, I put him on the potty and he said, "I no peepee pah-hee. I pee pee bafftub." And I said, "No, we don't pee pee in the bathtub. We pee pee in the potty like big boys." and he said loudly, "NO! Coppy peepee bafftub."

Guess who peepeed in the bathtub?

That's a start, right? Tell me it is a start.

Goodbye Steve Irwin...

Yesterday was pretty sad at our house. We have watched the Crocodile Hunter as far back as I can remember, and Elizabeth and I used to watch his Saturday morning show together ever Saturday.

I found the article linked below on the net about how, for kids that watched Steve, his death will be like JFK or Princess Diana was for the rest of us. It is pretty interesting, and I was surprised that Elizabeth had some of the same reactions. In fact, when she asked me about it, she said, "But we will still be able to see him on TV, right?"

And then this morning, she seemed down and I asked her what was wrong, and she said, "I just miss Trouble."

Trouble is our dog that died over 4 years ago. But it is the only other death that she has experienced in her life.

Damn television.

I was watching an interview with Steve and Matt Lauer after the whole incident with his son and Matt asked him, "If you could do [that day] over, what would you do different?"

Steve's reply?

A deadpan, "I'd go surfing."

I imagine his reply would be the same for Monday.

Either way, here is the link... I can't help but say that actually laughed out loud at this line:

Daniel, 11, asked: "Why did it have to be Steve Irwin? Why couldn't it be someone older like Sean Connery?"

Poor Sean....

http://www.smh.com.au/news/business/its-like-jfk-or-diana-for-kids/2006/09/05/1157222122185.html

and poor Steve.

Tell me it isn't just MY husband

This makes me nuts.

Friday, I get home from work and I feel like complete crap. I felt weird all week, just tired and sick. (NO, i am NOT pregnant.) So I told Marty I needed to lay down for about thirty minutes, if he could please make sure the kids didn't drink bleach, or try to tie each other up.

I slept about 45 minutes and woke up feeling quite a bit better.

I go into the kitchen to get a drink of water, and Marty is standing there like the proud caveman that he is and says, "I washed your dishes for you."

MY dishes?? MY???? Am I the only one that eats with utensils and puts my food on a plate??? Why are they MY dishes??

I didn't say anything except thanks, and went ahead and poured a glass of water. THEN he says, "We really need to get you a dishwasher when we get the new cabinets."

Get ME a dishwasher?? What the hell??? So then I ask him why all of a sudden all things dirty and kitcheny are MINE.

"Because, you are the one that washes dishes."

I sent him outside, to do something manly. Otherwise, I would have smacked him over the head with MY skillet.