Ok. So I'm moving pictures around and found a few that slipped through the cracks. Here you go.
Mom, I really don't like this creepy scarecrow!
That's better. I feel much more like myself now!
This thing is very wiggly!
Tell me again what this thing is!
Can I have one of these for Christmas?
This stool is like my cape! It increases my super powers!
Santa, I'm three and next year, I'll be giving YOU the orders so enjoy your last year in power.
How much longer until the parade starts?
I can't even caption this one. She looks scary!
Twins
Not twins
Dasha - Her first day at "home" 7 years ago (12/7)
Dasha now
I'm tired. I have a very critical case of It's Not Fair-itis and I need to get a grip. I had to move all of my photos from Blogger to Picassa because I ran out of room so here are a few that slipped through the cracks. Annie is sick AGAIN and running a high fever. She slept with me last night with her head on the edge of the bed and her feet in my guts. It's looking like another night of Tylenol and Motrin dosing every couple of hours. Wanna hear me whine? When do I get a break? I've done everything in my power to do things right and I'm still stuck in this sickening game of Whack-a-Mole. (Although, I think the game is actually Mortal Kombat and it was just mislabeled as Whack-a-Mole). Maybe with some quiet alone time I'll be able to get myself back together. Oh, wait. When will that ever happen again?
On a happier note... Here are some random antics that I'd recorded for such a day as today.
Annie is learning left and right. However, she only sees it as right and "not right." If you ask her where her left hand is, she will simply hold it up and say, "This one is not right." It's like a game of Who's on First toddler style.
Last week, I actually went into the closet one night and closed the door. I was really trying to inventory the Christmas stash but I was also enjoying a few nanoseconds of time alone. Annie banged on the door and then tried to open it. (I'm not sure why she couldn't open that door. She can open every other door in the house)! Anyway, she yelled through the door, "Mama, what are you doing?" I huffed something back like, "I'm in time out, Annie!" Without hesitating, she said, "What did you do wrong?" The thoughts that zinged through my head make my brain swim. I yelled back, "I thought ugly things!" Hey, I thought I was buying myself some time in lock-up away from everyone. It got quiet and I thought I'd won the battle and she'd moved on to torment someone else. Nope. Her next statement was hurled through the door with quite a bit of gusto. She said, "You need to come out, Mama! Mamas can't have time outs!" By this point I was feeling a little guilty and opened the door. She smiled that darn angelic grin and said, "See? I'm glad you made a good choice and came out. If you're naughty, Santa wouldn't bring you anyfing." (Yes, she still can't do the th sound).
Dasha decided to try and give the dish washer super powers by using the regular dish detergent instead of the dishwasher gel. Hmmmm... The look on her face was priceless when I rounded the corner and saw her sitting in piles of suds on the floor with towels trying to mop up the mess while more suds oozed from the dishwasher. I ask her if she was having a problem and she simply said, "No. I'm not having the problem, the dishwasher is," and went back to sopping up the mess. Ugh.
Grant has spent quite a bit of time at my parents' house lately due to scouts and a host of other things. However, his one liners continue to floor me. He has the quick wit of his dad. Last week, the girls were into playing dog. One would pretend to be the dog and one would pretend to be the owner. I heard them pretending from the backseat and just kept driving. When we got to our destination and I opened the door, I realized that Dasha was wearing the dog's leash and Annie was coaxing her to get out of the van like a good doggie. Dasha barked and compliantly rolled out of the van. Annie tugged the leash for her to hurry up. Grant walked past and eyed the situation and simply said, "You better hope she's not like Michael Vick," and kept walking. He constantly does this to me and then leaves me trying to stifle my laughter so I don't let on that I'm amused. Geez. I'm hoping to get some Christmas pictures including the elusive Grant this weekend. We shall see.
This is just a sampling of what goes on around here every single day. Heaven help me. I'm trying not to grow weak and keep my eyes on what matters but it's really hard this time of the year. For the kids' sake, the tree has lights and garland (and is missing lots of needles because I keep forgetting to water it) and there are lights in the shrubs out front. The gifts are bought (although the ONE gift Annie is now asking for is the one that I didn't get for her) and I'm already counting down the days to tossing the dying tree out and throwing the lights back into the bucket. I keep hearing that silly song from The Grinch, "Where are You Christmas?" I know darn well where Christmas is and what it is. I just need to get my head out of my butt and straighten my attitude out. (I don't like it when I have to scold myself in public but it's better than ending up in time out and having an ankle biter coax you out).
Alright, it's time for another dose of Motrin. Oh, wait. Maybe I'm supposed to give Tylenol this time. Crap. Maybe I should look up the number for poison control while I'm at it. It's going to be a long night!
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