X-Livvy (dun dun dun)

I have finally come to the conclusion that we will probably be visited someday by a strange man, asking to take Olivia away to a school for special kids. Not stupid kids. Just special ones. It appears that she has special powers. If the X-Men were to ever make another movie, she would most definitely have a starring role.

What are these special powers, you may ask? After much thought and a ginormous headache, I've decided that she fits in with the likes of Wolverine. No, I don't think her body is laced with steel- that would be silly...but rather pens, pencils, hi-liters, and markers. I am convinced that she can spontaneously produce any of these items from her finger tips and then retract them at will. This is the only explanation for the artwork I find daily on my walls, tables, couches, and of course, her very own body. I'm not kidding. Maybe we should sell her to the circus.

I'm still not writing off Velveeta

I just have to laugh (or cry and rip the magazine to shreds) when I read magazines promoting health and fitness, especially when I am pregnant. Like the time I read an article stating that ramen noodles are the worst possible food a pregnant woman can eat. Really? I recognize that there is no nutritional value going on there but the worst? Seriously people, that statement pretty much discredits the entire magazine for me.

My sister in law Natalie (who is a dietitian, by the way) once placed Velveeta in the category of "lard, plastic, bacon, & 7-11 hot dogs" and I have yet to see any hoity toity magazine writer put Velveeta on their 'do not eat' list. So I say to you stinkin' nutrtional blah blah blah column writers, you try being pregnant- dressing, feeding, and entertaining 3 other children and then tell me that ramen noodles are not okay to eat while pregnant. Occasionally the only cure to a screaming 3 year old is a pack of "curly noodles". For me it's a choice between eating the x-list noodles or eating nothing at all before I run out the door, late again, to pick up another child from a soccer game or preschool or whatever. I surrender to those darn noodles! When life hands you lemons, you make ramen noodles. These NYC magazine writers and editors need to visit planet reality every once in a while.

The other day I was sitting in the the doctor's office reading another magazine and came across an article suggesting that instead of eating an entire cupcake, why don't I eat just half? So what you are saying is that the dozen (or more) cupcakes (they didn't have frosting on them) I ate in the last two days wasn't a good idea? Hmm. Good thing I read this article. I'm pregnant for crying out loud! I'll eat whatever the heck I want - when I want it! And I only gained 1 pound that month anyway. That counts for something, doesn't it?

So there you have it. I have issues. I don't like people telling me what to eat. It's hard enough making sure I'm sleeping on my left side and dragging this big ole belly around. I haven't even gotten into the peeing 3 times in 10 minutes thing. Or the wonky belly button thing. Or the waking up 4 times a night to pee thing. Maybe that has something to do with the being so tired I can barely keep my eyes open thing.

Did I mention that I love being pregnant? Okay, really, it's great and all but I just don't like people telling me how to do it. There are so many things to worry about. Being a mama is hard. Whether they are in or out, the worries never stop. And when I think of my worries, I certainly don't need "ramen noodles" to be at the top of my list.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

I came into the bathroom the other day and found Olivia on the counter rocking a container of Colorox Wipes and singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. It appears she may share her mother's love of sanitizing products. The only problem we have is that she doesn't understand the difference between a clorox wipe, a kleenex, or a wet wipe. She thinks they are all made to blow her nose and wipe her arms and face. It looks like I need to re-direct her love of cleaning to the toilet or the kitchen floor. Give us time...

Mystery solved!

Sometimes things happen that have no explanation. I scratch my head, walk around, look under couch cushions, do what I need to do to super-sleuth the problem and still, no answers. This happens to me more often than I would like it to, you know, with all these meddling kids around. Sometimes I find out how "it" happened and other times, no such luck.

Well, lucky me, I quite easily found the answer to one of my latest head scratchers. All it took was a little download of the pictures onto the computer to realize why my battery had such a short life this time around.











I like the claw- kind of a twilight zone/mystery theater thing going on. This was all taken on what I like to call "the diaper bag camera". Small enough to fit into the diaper bag and easy to confiscate under mom's watchful eye. I did spare you the bazillion other pictures taken- you know, extreme close-ups of knees, eyes and other unidentifiable body parts, scenery out the window, car seats, ceiling, floor, garbage in van, back of my head, the list could go on all day.

Oh me Oh my!

Remember how I tip-toed around using the words "comb over" in reference to Olivia. Well, this one speaks for itself. Sara just came up to me and said, "Mom, do you think I look beautiful? I did this all by myself with water." And my response, "Yes honey, you look beautiful". Because what else do you say to your 3 year old?

Sara, Fashion Connoisseur

Sara loves the book series "Fancy Nancy" by Jane O' Connor. The books are about a little girl named Nancy who, you guessed it, likes to be fancy. She uses fancy french words, dresses fancy, walks fancy- you get the idea.



Sara came to me the other day dressed like this, announcing that she was "Fancy Wancy". You see, no matter how much we try to tell the child that this book is called "Fancy NANCY", she can't seem to stop calling it "Fancy Wancy". It's cute and funny and makes us laugh.

You may be wondering what is so fancy about this outfit- well, let me break it down for you- the hat, the scarf, and the white shiny shoes. This is actually quite dressed down for Sara so I was rather surprised she made the Fancy Nancy connection on this one. Usually there is a princess dress, shoes, & earrings involved, tights, and most definetly a tacky mardi gras necklace or two. Oh, and hair clips- always a hair clip or twenty.



My Sara. Seriously. She can be a crack up. As you may have guessed, she is now very much into compiling her own outfits. It's funny (and sometimes rather frusturating) to see what she comes up with. The other day she put this little number together and was oh so proud of it.



She said to me, "Mommy, my shoes match the white fings on my shirt". Let me translate. Apparently the shoes match the white stripes on her shirt, and by stating that fact, she doesn't feel threatened that I will make her change her shoes. You know, just as long as something matches... At this point in the game, I'm just glad she doesn't smell like pee... yet. The way she is standing is pretty much an indicator that I should be getting worried.

Livvy's first piggies

I know, I should just start Livvy her own blog. She'll grow out of being so mischievous, right? Please, somebody back me up here? But then again, without her being so "curious", I wouldn't have as much to blog about. Who am I kidding? I always have something to say, even without naughty children in tow. Let's just stick to- "hopefully she will grow out it."

Anyway, a week or so ago I introduced piggies to Livvy's hair. I had to hold her down while she was screaming at me and trying to rip them out. But we've made progress since then and she will happily sit for me and let me put them in. She doesn't have enough hair on top to pull into the pigtails so I pull as much from the back as I can. I then comb the top hair over and hairspray like crazy (please note that I tried to word that without actually saying she has a "comb over" because she doesn't...) Works for me.

I couldn't get a decent picture of just Olivia. The other kids wouldn't stay out of the pictures. And so, here are my little ones, celebrating Livvy's piggies.