What Has Ashlyn Been Up To?

Things she’s done that make me think Ashlyn is the smartest toddler we know:

Throwing food off the high chair with a perfect basketball arm. Ashlyn loves playing with balls. We’re convinced she’s going to play some kind of sport that involves a round object. The latest case to prove my point: the other morning she decided she was done with her grapes. I was busy cleaning the kitchen after breakfast, not really paying attention to the constant noise that was emanating from the eating area (a mother gets really good at tuning certain noises out). I happened to look up and see this perfect basket ball shot. Ashlyn was throwing her grapes onto the floor. Why she though they belonged there, only God knows. And how she learned to thrust her arm up and cock her wrist down a la nothing but net must be attributed to God as well. Some people just have it. I’m lining up appearances on all the talk shows (a la Tiger Woods in his toddler years) to showcase her phenom talent.

Shoving as many Pez that can fit into her mouth while brushing her teeth. Reagan found some Pez in the pantry (that made the purge episodes I’ve been going through) and wanted some as a snack. We’re not sugar nazis in this house (maybe that’s why my teeth suck) so we let her have a pack. Somehow this pack got left on a horizontal surface. It doesn’t matter at what height this horizontal surface is, if Ashlyn knows it’s food she will find a way to acquire it. A while later it was teeth brushing time so the girls were corralled into the bathroom and each handed their respective toothbrushes. Ashlyn sticks hers in her mouth, promptly sucks off the toothpaste and hands it back to me. The bristles were red. I freaked a little and forced her mouth open to figure out why there’s so much blood on the toothpaste. No blood. Only half eaten pezes stashed in the cheeks like a chipmunk. Was she saving them for later? For a late night snack? Party in the crib! I’ll bring the candy! How long had that candy been in there? Did she have a secret stash we didn’t know about that she was going back to?

Locking doors as soon as you leave them, especially when you don’t have keys to get back in. Ahh yes, she’s already trying to get rid of us. Several times Du has gone outside to get various man jobs done. He did not take the keys with him. Ashlyn would go behind him and turn the lock on the door. No one has taught her how to do this. I’m telling you, her manual dexterity is amazing for a toddler. Fortunately I’ve been in the house when this has happened and Du has just had to beat on the door (maybe longer than one should have to) to get my attention. I’m trying to convince myself that this is all an innocent attempt to do what she sees Mommy and Daddy do all the time. But, I have my suspicions.

Constantly having to have a pen in her hand. We call this the Bob Dole. Her definition of paper includes the wall, the table, the couch, her skin…and real paper. Her favorite position to draw, when she’s actually drawing on paper, is to lay flat on the floor. Her favorite position to draw when Reagan and I are schooling is to be right there with us at the desk…yelling for a different pen, because the one I gave her obviously isn’t the one she was wanting and how dare I give her a pen that is inferior to the project she is about to embark upon and the color I offered her was so yesterday.

All of these actions are actually talents that prove to me we have some kind of genius phenom on our hands. I mean, she wouldn’t be doing any of this if she were a regular toddler, right? (cough, cough, hack, hack, choke).

Cleaning House On Amie Street

I’ve been going through all those annoying email subscriptions that one happens to accumulate over the span of, oh a year or so. You know, the emails you get from Land’s End, and Koo Koo Bear Kids, and 16 different Embroidery sites, and 12 different discount shopping sites, and….you get all those too right? (I know you do.)

Yeah, I get a lot of email that mostly remains unread. I had good intentions when I gave them my email address thinking I’d quickly surf through them as I got them, culling the deals from the duds and going along my merry way. That. hasn’t. happened. I group delete them leaving the deals undiscovered and not really caring about it.

As I was cleaning house I ran across an email from Amie Street.

Oh yeah! I forgot about Amie Street! This is a great place to find great music (unknown…but great). And a lot of it is free. And it’s all legal. I know. The prices of the songs and albums are determined by the people using the site. I’m guessing the more times a song is downloaded means the more expensive it will be–only up to .98 cents though, so it’s great for cheap frugal people like me. 

Somehow I discovered the site a while back and enjoyed it for a while…but then the updates got lost in all of the email junk mail that was inundating me. I downloaded a bunch of songs today and transferred them to iTunes and then to my iPhone. It works! Free music!! And not just the one a week we’re rationed at iTunes (and those are usually blech…). I’ve been looking for ways to increase my song library in iTunes without taking out a loan to do it.

Go get your music on. I’m heading back to my inbox to continue the purge.

My Unspectacular Teeth

Jill of Tips From Home and the new Branddoozie; AND Toni of A Daily Dose of Toni and MomDot tagged me to list 6 unspectacular things about myself. And since I made you drink Windex over that just recently I’m going to go easy on you and not list six more. I’m going to discuss one. One big. freaking. unspectacular. ugly. mess. My teeth. You didn’t know they really looked like this did you?

Ooh, I just vomited a little.

So, they’re not that bad. But I’m too young to be having old people teeth problems, you know? From the very first ages we’re subliminally taught that if we have problems with our teeth then we’re dirty or a bad person. I’m a bad person for having problems with my teeth.

I’ll just admit right now that I didn’t take care of my teeth in college. And I’ll admit too that I drank my fair share of coke. And ate my fair share of chocolate. Late at night. A girl’s gotta relieve stress right? Stress relief wreaked havoc on my teeth. Fortunately (aesthetically) for me (and for you) they’re my back teeth.

I went to see the dentist recently. He basically told me I had big problems in my mouth. Some minor…and some not so minor work needs to be done soon. OK, this is not my fault…because this is America and you’re not really American any more unless you lay the blame on something or someone other than yourself. Maybe I’ll sue too since we’re really good at that as well.

I’m pretty sure I saw a dentist in college. That was so long ago I can’t remember, and have probably blocked the visits from my mind. Then came marriage and with it its own health care system. Those of you who know my husband’s line of work (or have guessed it by now…I don’t talk about it outright because we tend to be conspiracy theorists) know that the health care that comes with it is…um…socialist, really. So, I saw these dentists in Germany who wanted to win the prize for how many patients they could see and treat in an hour. I’m sure my guy won. Drive through fillings? He wrote the book.

Then came a small town dentist with small town equipment. Then came a dentist who made her money from doing unnecessary dental work. Then came a dentist with equipment from the 70s. Now we’re here in Alabama, and can I just say I’ve never had a dentist as high tech as this guy? I’m loving it here, even if I’m saying that about a dentist. Even though he just told me he’d become very familiar with my mouth I’m willing to give him a shot. If he can promise me I’ll be all fixed.

And that’s just the issue. Once you have tooth problems they don’t just get fixed and go away. Dentists are like chiropractors in that way. Once you see one you know you’re going to need to go back again and again. Apparently fillings aren’t meant to last forever. I never signed that disclosure form. So apparently these crappy fillings that were put in by the socialist dentist and then redone and redone by later dentists, and those unnecessary fillings by Miss Moneymaker have only weakened my teeth.

AND to cap everything off (pun intended) my socialist health care will only pay for silver fillings and gold crowns. Yes, gold crowns. I thought those were just a fad of previous decades. Homey, I gonna hab me sum gold in mah mouth.

Should I get the diamond studded ones?

I hate visiting the dentist, because my badness that I can usually hide is presented up close with really big pictures. Teeth were never meant to be seen that big.

I guess I didn’t go easy on you with this post. But there you have it. My very unspectacular teeth. Go ahead, tell me that’s gross. Will you come back?

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If you actually made it this far I have a treat for you. Click on over to Jaci’s blog, Ravings of a Mad Housewife, and check out my Cosmo inspired quiz. Take it and let me know how you did (I’m snickering).

Story Time, Interactive Style

It never fails–when we get a pet it never is an ordinary, normal pet. Our pets always have…issues. Case in point, the latest picture for Story Time, Interactive Style.

Meet Buzz

Or should I say, Buzz Lightyear.

I am not kidding. Those are his real eyes! There aren’t even words…Well, I hope there are and I hope you’ll leave them in the comments section.

Here’s what you do:

  1. Look at the pic above. But don’t stare too long. I’m told he has hypnotic powers.
  2. Come up with a comment or story about said pic.
  3. Leave your creative prose below in the comments section.
  4. In turn, this will make me feel better for having a “special” cat.

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As for last week’s gem: they say truth is stranger than fiction. My truth is never very interesting though, that’s why I like reading your stories. We had stopped one Sunday morning, like many Sunday mornings, to grab some breakfast for the parking lot attendants, of which my husband was one. I stayed in the truck, because who wants to haul kids out into a grocery store when we’re rushing to church? Who wants to haul kids out into a grocery store ever, but that’s another issue. This morning I had a treat though. Some owner unsuspectingly left their innocent little pooch to guard the vehicle. Little did they know he’d try to become Toonces the Driving Cat (anyone remember him?).  At least he wanted to be Toonces, hence the look of longing in a dog’s eyes when he’s behind the wheel…

Yes, Nicole, we can thank God he didn’t give dogs opposable thumbs. Because I was right in his path.

Thanks for playing!!

100 Trees

We got a letter in the mail the other day letting us know our Delta miles were about to expire. Uh oh! What to do with 11,111 points? What would that actually buy us? A pack of peanuts? An extra blanket? Maybe a drink on the house really paid by us?

Well, wouldn’t you know it, Delta’s southern hospitality was in full force because they had suggestions waiting for us on how to “spend” those points.

Magazines!

Now, why did it take us receiving this letter to realize we needed 11,111 points-worth of magazines? Du and I stared at the list. Not a one on there that we would have chosen ourselves to subscribe to. But heck, when they’re “free” why not? They all started looking like good subscription ideas.

We started through the list:
Allure: I could use some allure in my life. That’s a maybe. ↔
Business Weekly: Um, not anymore. ↓
Cigar Aficionado: Well, maybe when we lived in Germany, but not now. ↓
Condé Nast Traveler: Didn’t want to cry each month. ↓
Elegant Bride: Maybe 13 years ago. ↓
Entertainment Weekly: Finally, a yes! Sure we don’t watch tv any more. But who cares when it’s a free magazine! Now I won’t feel so out of touch when someone references “Lipstick Jungle” or “Gossip Girl” or “Fidy Cent”. What are those anyway? Now I’ll know. ↑
Out or The Advocate: Yeah, I could just see the ladies that do lunch coming over and finding that… ↓
People in Español: No gracias. ↓
Windows IT Pro: I know just enough HTML and CSS to make me dangerous. Why ruin a good thing? ↓
Wired: I wish. Maybe I should do this one. ↓

This is just a sampling of what we were having to choose from. Winners, I know. Here are the ones we chose:

Entertainment Weekly: My famous fix.
Harper’s Bazaar: a 2-year subscription. I’ll be on the high end of fashion for exactly 24 months.
Self: And I’ll be fit.
The Atlantic Monthly: Can you tell this one’s for Du?
The Economist: Snore…zzzz…
Lucky: Wha? Me? Subscribing to Lucky? Oh yes, this is my comedy fix for a year. Read here if you’re confused.

AND LAST…BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST

Garden & Gun!! Yeh betcha! Yup, we’re gettin’ a subscripshun to a magazine that features gardens.and.guns. I absolutely cannot wait. Did you even know there was a magazine out there like this!?!? This is for the true redneck and his missus. Actually, the tag line says “21st Century Southern America” and that fits me to a T. Even the gun part…

So, for the price of 11,111 airline points we’ll be getting the amount of paper that it took about 100 trees to produce. I promise I’ll try my darned hardest to recycle these. And blog the crap out of what Lucky is going to try to convince me is the next big fashion trend…

I Love You, Costco

WELCOME SITSTAS!! I’m so stinkin’ happy for you to drop by here today! If there were a video camera recording me you’d see me floating on cloud 9…or at least doing the PeeWee Herman. I can’t wait to visit each of you and leave you some luvin’. I’m sure my hubby and girls are thrilled about the sleep I’m bound to lose making friends with every single one of you. Enjoy your time here, make yourself at home, steal some buttons if you’d like. Now, on with the show!

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Dear Costco,

I’m writing to inform you of my new found devotion to you. Where have you been all my life? I mean, I know that you’ve been around, I’ve seen you around town, but why has it taken this long for you to introduce yourself to me?

From the moment I entered your presence I knew I was going to fall in love. I mean, who can resist floor to ceiling merchandise? At discounted prices even!?! You’ve got aisle after aisle of things I never knew I needed in bulk, until now. Like toilet paper. I’ve got enough to last me a whole year, or through one good weekend of pranks (but you don’t need to know that). And Vienna Sausages. My Ashlyn can now have her processed meat stick fix anytime she wants, and even more than once a day. I don’t have to ration any more! Thank you. I never knew I could buy that many batteries at one time. I’m not convinced that they won’t run out of juice before I use them all, but I trust you Costco. You wouldn’t let me down.

And those aisles each come with their own taste tester. I love you. They don’t even mind that I just grab a cup and keep wheeling by. I don’t really need to know how much they cost, just throw one in my buggy as I’m passing. And how none of the aisles are complete toy aisles. Yes, you give the kids a little bit to drool over. You’re smart like that. You know that if you didn’t provide at least one LeapPad or giant Halloween spider the kids would go ballistic while I was trying to taste test shop. You know me. You get me.

Costco, I can’t wait to try your grocery section. I’m in awe of how much garlic I can buy in one jar. Or strawberries. Or cheese. You have visions of cooking grandeur for me don’t you? I’ll try to live up to your expectations. And Costco, I promise that I’m going to sign up for your credit card soon. Why would I even question that it’s the only one you accept? That makes sense when you’re trying to create Costco groupies. I will have your name on everything in my wallet soon. I’m going to need that card when I decide to buy twelve tires or a whole new floor and counter tops for the house. And the car. And a trip to Jamaica. And my life insurance. What don’t you sell? You’re so entrepreneurial.

I must mention how I love eating dinner in your cafeteria after an hour or two of shopping. A girl gets hungry trying to do consumer math in her head. I mean, a foot-long hot dog and a huge Coke (so appropriate) for less than two dollars?!?! How do you do it? I don’t even care that I have to hold Ashlyn in my lap because you don’t have any high chairs. I know you don’t want to waste money on frivilous stuff.

And you’re so smart to close down at 6pm. I need to get home with enough time left in the day to unpack the UHaul truck and rearrange the house to find new hiding places for all of my bulk items. Thank you for thinking of me.

I must end this letter, Costco. It’s late and I must drift off to sleep. I’ll be dreaming of pushing that huge cart (with no less than two places for kids’ legs at the top) through all of those amazingly tall aisles, sampling all your latest goodies and piling in the toothpaste waist high.

You have my heart,