Hug Until it Hurts

I have had the good fortune to have a wonderful Christmas. My mother is here visiting, which is HUGE as she is quite ill and hasn't travelled in years. And it's been great. My children are healthy, as is my husband. Life is good.

My friend Erin lost her father on Friday, just a few months after losing her mom. Our friend Stevo once said that once a parent dies it is like being a member of a club that no one wants to join. He couldn't be more right. I joined that club nearly five years ago when my dad died. And I'm not alone. Several of my friends have lost a parent over the past few years--we're coming to that age, I guess. But to lose them both within such a short period of time? I can't even get my head around it. When I spoke to her yesterday, she and her brother were going to soldier on and make Christmas happen for her nephew. I thought that was really amazing and wonderful.

So hug the people in your life and be sure to let them know how much they mean to you. Hug them tonight. Hug them tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. Because you can.

Why The Holidays Need to Be Over Sooner Rather Than Later

Misfit Hausfrau is getting annoyed. So annoyed, in fact, that she is starting to refer to herself in the third person. That can never be a good sign.

I have been trying to keep my annoyance from seeping into my home and polluting the air. I am disappointed in myself that I am not a little happier right now, what with the holidays coming and all. Sure, I have been baking millions of cookies and filling dozens of pierogies. I have been consulting with my mother to plan our traditional Polish Christmas Eve dinner. I have wrapped presents and decorated the house. At this point, Baby Girl only knows that Christmas is the birthday of the Baby Jesus. She thinks that the presents under the tree are for him, which I think is really sweet. Peaches spends most of her day trying to get all McGyver with the ottomans that are protecting the tree from her wily fingers and razor sharp chompers. This is good stuff people! These are the things holiday memories are made of. Right?

Unfortunately, my irritation is stemming from the world that is outside of my home. And while I refuse to let these things ruin a holiday, I need to get them off my chest.

Target
All I wanted to get was my prescription. Just a quick trip. But NOOOOOOOO, every Jackass from here to Dayton has to drive to MY Target at 9:00AM to shop. In -13 degree weather. It doesn't help that half of the shopping center is under cosntruction and they have blocked all entrances but one to get to the Target. It took 45 minutes to drive in, stand in line to get said prescription, and drive out of the parking lot. And I didn't even get sidetracked in the shoes or toys. Hmph!

Kohl's
The Bitch walked in the door and saw me waiting next to the checkout for a customer's cart--the kind you can put a baby in. There weren't any other carts left in the store. I was holding a 19 lb. baby in the puffiest, most slippery coat ever. I was also holding the hand of my 3 year old. As the customer was getting ready to give me the cart, Baby Girl pulled me 6 inches in the other direction. The Bitch blew past me AND TOOK THE CART! My "Hey" and "Excuse me, but that was really rude!" were ignored as she flew with the cart to the back of the store. I didn't have the luxury of standing around waiting for another cart, so I trudged to the shoe section to buy boots for Baby Girl. Because I didn't have a cart for the baby, I had to put her down to help my other daughter try on boots. Because of that, she crawled away. Because of that, someone hit her with their cart. And then she ate things off the ground. And then I got dirty looks from other customers. And then when I was paying for my purchase, the Bitch brought back her EMPTY CART to the front of the store and walked out without buying anything.

Someone Keeps Stealing Baby Jesus!

Would you just stop already?! While I understand that technically the Baby Jesus shouldn't be in the manger until Christmas Eve, but it doesn't mean you have to steal it. Twice. And cut off the second one's leg in the process. Were you dropped on your head at birth?

Wal-Mart
I would love to know what Wal-Mart is paying Beyonce, Queen Latifah, Garth Brooks and some other country chick to whore themselves in their "Home for the Holidays" commercials. Wal-Mart doesn't get enough business during the holidays? Apparently not since they would rather pay people who would NEVER STEP FOOT in a Wal-Mart to hawk their wares.

The "Don't Call it Happy Holidays, it's Merry Christmas" People and the "Don't Call it Merry Christmas, it's Happy Holidays" People
Just shut the hell up already.


The Mail I Am Receiving from Area Churches
I don't mind getting the mail from the local churches, I really don't. What bothers me are the messages written on the postcards. One actually advertised that they WOULDN'T be conducting services on Christmas Day so that the ministers could be with their families. What? Why are we calling it Christmas then? Another postcard listed that I should attend their church because they provide free Starbucks and scones after their service. I really wish I wouldn't have thrown them away when I got them.

Gingerbread Lattes (aka Crack) from Starbucks
Best. Non-Alcoholic Drink. Ever. They are so good, in fact, that I would drink three everyday if I could. But then I would weigh 700 lbs. So I limit myself to just one each holiday season. Unfortunately, I drank my latte in mid-November. I need Starbucks to remove them from the menu. Now.

I could go on and on, but I have more pierogies to make. And children to feed and bathe. And trips to Indiana to pick up depressed, sickly mother for holiday fun!

Merry Happy Whatever!

I've only sent about 10 Christmas cards out this year as it is my husband's job to buy stamps. Fortunately, Mr. Big Dubya has the perfect solution! Check out his site! He is graciously using his site as a refrigerator for all cards! And there's a yule log for that extra special something!

Baby Girl's New "Best Friend"

Meet Baby Girl's new friend. The last time I saw this was when I gave it to her last Easter. This morning she informed me that HIS name is Stack and that he's a boy. She held him all morning and had some rather lengthy discussions about Dora and Blue's Clues. He spent some time in the corner around 9:30 for "being fresh." She also busted his chops for not sharing. At no time did I hear him protest. He sat in her purse when we ran to the store. When we got home she started to cry because she couldn't find him. I found her purse and he was inside of one of her socks. When I asked her why he was in a sock, she looked at me like I had six eyes and told me that the sock was his coat.

Things got a little strange at lunch. She got agitated when he wouldn't eat his share of carrots--as if he wasn't pulling his weight or something. Then in the middle of lunch she asked to be excused to go potty.

"But Sweetie, you just went."

"No Mommy, Stack needs to go poopy."

Normally I would make her finish her lunch but I decided to humor her. She held him over the toilet and exclaimed over the "big snake" he pooped. She then made him wash his hands.

Later I heard her reading a book to Stack.

"Baby Girl, are you having fun reading to Stack? Does he like the book?

"Her name ISN'T Stack. HER name is Sharrow (Baby Girl's middle name) and she's a girl. And we're going to take a nap."

Weekend Recap

Let me just start off by saying that this weekend was not even CLOSE to being as much fun as last weekend. There were no parties, no dancing, no sleepovers with the girlfriends. Hell, there wasn't even much of a reason to shower. I guess this means that I am back to my normal dullsville life. Well, maybe it's not completely normal. It seems that I am up to my ass in cookies.

I have been making 2-3 types of cookies every day this week. Today was my off day, so I only made a double batch of fudge. I didn't know it was possible to get sick from the smell of brown sugar, but apparently it is. Tomorrow I am making one more batch of cut-outs and then I AM DONE. So far, only one type of cookie did not meet my standards. The rest have turned out OK. The surprise hit this year has been the chocolate cookies with mint chocolate chips in them. They kick ass. My fudge is also really good. And no, it is NOT the kind my mother-in-law makes with Velveeta.

The only other thing I did was finish some last minute shopping. I thought I was done. Awhile ago. As a matter of fact, I had it in my head that I has actually made the trip to the store to get the shopping done for Herr Hausfrau's nephews. I got ready to wrap their gifts and there weren't any to wrap. My alleged shopping trip was all in my head. Fortunately, it didn't take long to get it done. I was also quite pleased because I found a ukulele for BabyGirl that didn't cost a million dollars. She will be so excited as she LOVES guitars and currently plays some mean air guitar solos. A ukulele will be the perfect fit for her for now.

Oh, yeah. Peaches is driving us ape-shit because she is still waking up and screaming for upwards of 40 minutes a few nights a week. We decided to do tough love with her since she is going on 11 months old and she really should be sleeping through the night. We haven't done a late night feeding with her in almost 3 weeks. The problem is that she is so stubborn with her screaming that once she eventually stops, I am wide awake. I have been up since 3:30 this morning for this reason. I thought it only took a week before a baby stops waking up. Arrrggghhhh!

Well, I am off to bed to make up for the lack of sleep last night. I have to build up my strength as this week will be HUGE. I am driving to Indiana on Wednesday to pick up my mother and bring her back to stay with me for the holidays. For anyone who knows me and my family life, this is going to be interesting. I'll be writing about it later.

The History of Keeping Up With The Joneses in the Suburbs: Chapter Two

A couple of months ago, I wrote a blistering expose on the competition in my neighborhood to have the best and biggest playset. Since then, I have continued my deep cover in order to expose the secrets of life in suburbia. I have recently uncovered a trend that is so insidious, so frightening, that I cannot in good conscience keep it to myself. While it is a topic that is hardly new, it is something that is spiraling out of control because of parents' needs to outdo one another. This horrible trend is causing dissention, resentment and outright hostility among people who claim to be friends. I present The Birthday Party.

I am all about a party. There is nothing more fun than good food, good drinks, good friends and a lot of wonderful conversation and laughter. The same holds true for a kid's birthday party. We have kept Baby Girl's parties quite low key. We had a blizzard for her first birthday so it was the two of us watching her look at a cupcake with fear/curiosity/hunger. On her second birthday we went all out for an Elmo cake that my friend made and she had her two little friends over. The adults ate steak and drank wine and beer. The girls ate hotdogs and fought over toys. Baby Girl's party on Sunday was much the same. She had one friend and her cousin over. The adults ate appetizers and drank beer and wine. The kids ate chicken nuggets and a Dora Cupcake Birthday Cake.

I was introduced to the birthday party circuit while we were still in New Jersey. It is customary in New Jersey for the first birthday to be a huge blow-out in a rented hall, complete with 100+ people and caterers. Maybe there is a petting zoo or a bounce house. Maybe there's a band. There is DEFINITELY a mountain of presents and a very overwhelmed and cranky birthday child. We attended a couple parties like that and were amazed at the size of the celebration. Perhaps we were amazed that our friends actually HAD 100+ people to invite. Perhaps we couldn't believe the expense. Who knows?

Once Baby Girl got older, we started getting invited to parties at a place near our house called Boro Kid Zone. It was fantastic! The children got to jump around and play in these designated zones for set periods of time. And then they were served pizza and/or birthday cake. After eating, they were given a goodie bag and we were on our merry way. All this in 90 minutes. SWEET! It was great. I found out that parties ran about $150 or so. I thought that was pretty steep, but I thought it would be good if a parent didn't buy any other presents.

And now we are here in Ohio. Sure, there are the parties at the nearby Pump it Up or Build-A-Bear. But here, it is all about exceeding kids' expectations and having a bigger/better party than the year before. And a bigger/better party than the neighbor kids. And, you obviously love your child more because you just had the coolest party ever. There are princess parties, Dora parties and Nascar parties. For the "tweens" we have the "Makeover Parties" where there are places here in the area that will organize makeup parties for girls. Recently, there was a Jungle party in the neighborhood where the children participated in a jungle scavenger hunt. I think the prize was a real live monkey. Not sure who won.

My husband came home tonight and told me about the plans one of his co-workers had for his daughter's birthday party next week. They are planning to build a life-sized Candyland game board in their basement, and the parents of the children are going to play the characters in the game.

Are you kidding me?

I am trying to imagine how the parents are going to react when they get to the party. Will the Birthday Girl's father get to be King Kandy? Will the mothers start a cat fight to get the coveted roles of Lolly and Princess Frostine? The losers of that fight will have to be Mama Gingertree and Gramma Nutt. The parents who show up late will live to regret it as they will be stuck playing Jolly and Gloppy. I'm not sure I could imagine a less enjoyable afternoon for the parents.

Am I the only parent who is perfectly happy having a few kids over and letting them run wild through the house and eat cake? I mean, if I start with the unique parties now, it will never end. My girls will just expect more and more every year. And I don't want that. I'm still trying to get over the fact that I don't get any presents for my kids' birthdays. I mean, I squeezed them out for God sakes! Isn't that worth a nice bracelet?

I know that eventually I will have to expand on our birthday parties as I am assuming (and hoping) that my daughters will have more than one friend each. That said, I think the craziest I am willing to go is a Boro Kidzone-type of party. I think it is worth the $150 to NOT have to clean my house, fix food, and have parents looking at my house and questioning my decorating choices. What about you? How far are you willing to go to make your birthday kid happy? How much are you willing to do/spend?

Lifestyles of the Misfits and the Hausfraus

Best. Weekend. Ever. Well, maybe not EVER, but quite close. I had it all; I got a road trip, I got to spend quality time with my Pittsburgh Girlfriends (including a slumber party!); I got to go to a birthday party that didn't involve Dora or goodie bags; I got to go shopping for shoes--for ME; I got to be sociable, I got to drink(and smoke a cigarette or five--shhhh), and I got back home in plenty of time to celebrate my daughter's 3rd birthday too!

Chapter One--The Drive

I got in the car and drove for 4 1/2 hours to Pittsburgh.
By myself
Without children
Without husband
Without being commanded to put in a Dora movie
Without being bothered for snacks. Every five minutes.
Without being interrupted
Without crying
Without screaming
Without a constant stream of chatter
Without smelling something repugnant coming from the back seat
There was nothing but me

Sheer heaven, I tell you. This was the first time I had been in a car alone (except for my 5:45 AM jaunts to the gym so they don't count) since JULY! For the first 20 minutes, I kept the radio off and just enjoyed the silence. The rest of the trip I listened to the radio, then I listened to my cd's. I had a marathon Radiohead/Wilco listening session that lasted through most of Ohio. I listened to a few songs six or seven times REPEATEDLY--because I COULD! I sang along to some songs. Badly. Didn't matter.


Chapter Two--The Party

The reason I went to Pittsburgh was to celebrate the 40th birthday of my dear friend Angel. We met during college at IU. At the time, she had taken a break from her studies at Duquesne to stay with her sister. While in Bloomington, she worked in the same restaurant as my husband and I and we all became friends. We kept in touch with her over the years and were thrilled to reconnect with her when we moved to Pittsburgh. It is because of Angel that we made the most amazing friends when we were there. Her husband and all of her friends became our friends and it made our time there some of the happiest years of our lives. My friend Lisa made the trip from new Jersey. This was her first trip away from her 4 month old Ava. We were each other's dates at the party. We had a blast catching up with all of the Pittsburgh people and celebrating Angel. We girls surprised Angel with a Tiffany Bracelet. It made her cry. Our work was done.

After the party, Lisa, Annie and I headed back to Jenny's for a slumber party. When we got there, Erin showed up, which was great, as I had not seen her in a long time. She was in a play so she was unable to attend Angel's party. We stayed up talking until almost 3AM, I think. Daylight rolled in much too early.

Chapter Three--The Ride Home

See Chapter One. The only differences were that I was tired and it was snowing.

Chapter Four--Baby Girl's Birthday Party

I got home three hours before Baby Girl's birthday party. It was a very small event--just one little friend and her cousin. When I got home, I showed her the beautiful dresses Erin had gotten for her. She insisted on wearing one to her party. Baby Girl was thrilled to open presents, which were almost entirely Dora products. Wish I had bought stock in Viacom. One of her favorite gifts was the Hess Holiday Firetruck with lights and whistles! Upon opening it, she held it in her arms like a baby and said, "It's so Beyooootiful!" She spent the afternoon twirling her new pretty dress, harassing her cousin and chasing the dogs with her new grocery cart. It was wonderful seeing her so proud of herself. She kept walking around saying, "I'm Three! I'm a BIG GIRL!" or "I'm Three! I'm a Doctor Princess!" She is becoming more fun to watch every day. I am so blessed to have her.



The girls with their tiaras.

A Little Ditty About Ralph and Di

Ralph and Di are complete assholes. They are utter annoyances that refuse to leave me alone. They arrived late Sunday night while I was sleeping. Unlike MIM's Agnes who was just quietly annoying, Ralph and Di are loud, smelly and obnoxious. Like I said, they came by around 11:00 PM on Sunday night. I mean, how rude is that?

"Hey HAUUUSFRAUUUU, I'm BAAACCCK!" shouted Ralph. "Hurry up and get in the bathroom so we can catch up. It's been awhile."

"But I'm sleeping. And I've got to go to the gym tomorrow morning. And Baby Girl has art class too. I don't have time to hang with you. I have nothing to say to you." I decided to ignore him and turned over.

But Ralph was not about to be ignored. Ralph can be, shall we say, persuasive. I ran to the bathroom. After a brief discussion, I went back to bed. Just as I was getting back to sleep, he woke me up again. And again. And again. And again. I lost count after seven times.

As if that wasn't enough, Di suddenly surfaced with Ralph at her side.

"How you doin', Hausfrau?"

"What are you doing here, Di? I'm tired and Ralph is wearing me out. What do you want?"

"Ralph and I want to race with you. Let's see who makes it to the bathroom first. READYSETGO!"

DAMMIT! I barely had a chance to leap out of the bed before those two rushed ahead of me. While I could manage to lose a race to Ralph, it is NEVER OK to lose a race to Di. No matter what. I barely beat both of the them to the toilet--the finish line. Later I had the same dilemna. I looked around the bathroom desperately for help because I knew Ralph was hot on my tail.

"Scott? Viva? Where are you guys?" Fortunately I found Viva cowering under the sink. This was no time for weakness.

These games went on and on through the night and into the next day. I was exhausted and useless, and REALLY tired of the bathroom. But I didn't want them to be seen anywhere else. I have children to protect after all.

They left sometime during the night on Monday. No goodbyes or thanks for my hospitality. But that was OK. I understand the relationship. I was relieved that they came and left before the holidays, where they really could have put a crimp in our style at Hausfrau Haus.

Can you believe that those assholes CAME BACK LAST NIGHT? This is a first. They don't usually leave for a day and come back. I can't believe they didn't have someone else to harass. First, Ralph spent some time with Baby Girl which was quite distressing. She hadn't seen him since she was nine months old. She just has no experience in dealing with his sneakiness. But it only appeared that he wanted to hang with her for a couple of hours. By bedtime, he was gone. Or at least I thought he left.

Ralph and Di woke me up AGAIN last night. All. Night. Long. I am just too old for this shit. I haven't run since I was on the junior high track team, so I am just not equipped to deal with these marathons. The good news is that Ralph got tired and left early. I am waiting for Di to get the hell out of my house. Unfortunately, I have no say as to her comings and goings. I just hope she shuts the door behind her when she goes.

Weekend Recap

I'm a little late with my recap as I have been illin AGAIN! I am not sure how I am the one getting the barfy vomitty cooties, but I am. My hell began at 11:15 PM on Sunday. I have now successfully kept down 4 ice cubes and a glass of gatorade and it is 8:00AM Tuesday. I am going to start on some coffee in hopes that my dehydration headache will go away. The worst part was when Herr Hausfrau left for work on Monday 45 MINUTES EARLIER than he normally would (I think to escape the wretching noises.) I called him and told him to get his ass back here after I scared the children with a vomitting jag the second he left. What was he thinking? I couldn't even stand and he thought I could just feed, change and entertain the children without a problem at 6:30 in the morning?

Enough about that. Let's talk about my weekend!!! Our friends Stevo & Annie and Jeff & Allan came to stay with us. Yay! We are a group of friends who started having monthly dinner parties in Pittsburgh WAY before they became the vogue thing to do. We would choose a theme and research cookbooks and the internet to make authentic yummy dinners. And they were. Since we moved from Pittsburgh 4 1/2 years ago, the dinner parties have gone on without us and we have missed them dearly.

Our friends got in late Friday night and stayed until late Sunday morning. Our time was spent hanging out, looking at scrapbooks (Stevo & Annie just got back from Poland; Jeff & Allan are just back from Switzerland) eating, grocery shopping, drinking, cooking, watching tv, eating, gossiping and laughing. And eating. And worrying after Allan slipped and fell off our front steps and none of us heard his cries for help. His poor body was so jarred that he ended up going to bed and missing the whole dinner. And he had done a lot of the cooking. He missed his own heavenly dessert:

This WAS a White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle. It was AMAZING! We forgot to take pictures of the actual dinner because we were so hungry we went at it like vultures and there wasn't much left.

While I like spending time with family, I feel there is nothing better than getting to spend time with good friends. My only problem is that I get selfish and don't want it to end.

Ten Months Old!

Well Peaches, another month has gone by. You haven't really changed much, but that's OK by me.

You are continuing to be quite a challenge with your eating habits. One day you don't want baby food, the next day you only want bottles. You have discovered early that it is a woman's perogative to change her mind. Constantly. The one thing that isn't changing is your love of eating books. We are throwing away at least one of your sister's books a day because you are chewing them up and swallowing them. And while it's true your sister shoudl be doing a better job of keeping them away from you , at least you're getting some fiber.

Little bits and pieces of your personality are coming out. We are fairly certain that your quick temper is here to stay. I still don't know where you got it. You are quick to voice displeasure when we close doors to keep you out of rooms. Very quick. We now cannot tell the difference between your, "I'm hurt dammit" scream to your, "I'm pissed dammit" scream. Most of the day you are quite happy and content. Our friends called you "The Judge" this weekend, and it is so true. You stare at people so seriously and you look like you are sizing them up. Probably to figure out what part of their body you want to bite --their chin or their kneecaps.

Currently your favorite past times are opening drawers in the kitchen and swirling your hands around in the toilet. Eating toilet paper is also right up there. What is it with you and paper?! You are like a tiger lying in wait for an antelope when you are trying to get into the bathroom. The only time you have a shot at getting in is after your sister has gone to the bathroom. She is so excited that she has either peed or pooped that she runs out without flushing and closing the door. You LEAP into action as I decide whether to wipe the poop off the back of your sister's butt before she sits on the couch, or catch you before you fish for logs in the toilet.

Maybe I shouldn't be spoiling the surprise, but your father and I have made a promise. Tonight starts "Tough Love." We are done with the night time feedings. You are old enough to sleep through the night. We didn't have this challenge with your sister so this is new for us. Let me be clear: we are NOT getting up before 5:30 tomorrow morning to give you a bottle. Nope, not gonna happen. Even though it only takes 6 minutes to feed you and put you back down, we are done. No, really. Even though it is the only time you cuddle with me, I'm not doing it. I'm just not. So there.

New Addition to My Diaper Bag

Check out my new pewter flask. I scored this little gem at my ladies club "Holiday Party" last night. It was a White Elephant Chinese Auction. We all brought something in that we had previously received as a gift but didn't want. The idea is that you make it all pretty with the wrapping paper and bows--sorta like polishing a turd. I had my eye on this the whole time. Had Mischa not "stolen" the indoor/outdoor christmas tree lights that I had gotten, I never would have been able to steal this from Molly. Who had stolen it from Amber. I wanted to steal it from Amber, but I felt bad because she seemed to like it. Molly claimed she needed it because she has three kids. Sorry Charlie. It's all mine now.

And to think that someone got used stove burner covers. With BURNS ON THEM! I'd say I got the best gift there.



The best part is this:

The Barbie-sized funnel.


This flask is going to take my playgroups to a whole new level. Whatever will I put in it for Baby Girl's art class on Monday morning?

Decisions, decisions...

I Smell a Beatin'

I read a great post last night over at Dani's site about the rudeness in children and how it is getting worse. I couldn't agree more. I live in fear of having the "brat" in a playgroup or having the bully child no one wants to play with. That said, I spend my days drilling my daughter's head with lessons in etiquette and I will be doing the same for the baby when she is older. Don't get me wrong--I don't want to raise a couple of robots. I definitely want my kids to embrace their quirkiness and appreciate them for what makes them unique. I just expect them to be polite about it.

I realized this morning that my hard work to raise polite, well-adjusted children may be in jeopardy. There is an insidious force of evil that is chipping away at my older daughter. It is determined to stop at nothing to keep my daughter from being a polite little girl. Who or what is that force of evil you ask? That would be her father.

It all started early one morning a couple of weeks ago when Baby Girl was snuggling in bed with us. I was trying to sneak in a couple minutes more of precious sleep when I heard,

"You like a Wet Willie?"

I don't think I was even able to register what she was asking before a wet little finger was wiggling around in my ear.

"What are you doing?" I shrieked.

"I'm giving you a Wet Willie. You like another one?" she said as she stuck her forefinger in her mouth.

"NO I would NOT like another Wet Willie, Baby Girl!"

"OK Mommy."

She then turned over, whereupon my husband gladly received a Wet Willie from her.

"Honey, that is so gross! WHY did you feel the need to teach her that? I didn't say anything when you started to teach Baby Girl words like 'Tru Dat' and 'Word', but I have to draw the line at this!"

"Oh, Honey, it's not a big deal."

"It may not be a big deal now, but I don't want her to be the weird girl in 1st grade who runs around putting her slimy finger in the ears of her classmates."

"You worry too much."

Oh REALLY? Since then, she has given everyone in the household numerous Wet Willies. The baby and the dogs have been defenseless victims. Gramma almost got one too, but moved out of the way. I am trying to explain to her that "No means No" so she can't just run around giving them out if people don't want them.

I noticed that it had stopped this week. I was relieved. But thanks to my husband, he did it to her last night when we tucked her into bed. She woke up this morning with a renewed vigor to share her joy. I tried taking a picture of the girls this morning because Baby Girl likes making "forests" with her toys and asks us to come into her forest to play with her. This is what I got:

Her forest is now her Wet Willie lair.

I told her this morning that she may only perform Wet Willies on her dolls or her father. We have friends staying with us this weekend for God sakes! WE CAN'T HAVE THIS!

I wonder if my husband has any idea the verbal beating he is getting when he gets home from work today. Word.