Little Miss Independent.

My daughter has taken after me, but I'm not sure if this tidbit of genetics is a good thing - at least not right now.

I've always been an independent little thing. I like being on my own, accomplishing my own tasks, meeting new challenges without someone holding my hand, etc. All good stuff, right?

Even I, Mrs. Independent, let my mom feed me when I was a wee one.

My child, on the other hand, won't let me go near her mouth anymore. She's ravenous 24/7. I try to speed up the eating process for her by offering my help in hand-to-mouth feeding. Does she accept? Heck no. She turns her head to the side, lets out an agonizing cry, and then stares at me like this:



I'm glad she's starting to do things for herself, but can't she at least humor me and pretend that she still needs mama for some things?

Quote of the week.

Every now and then, my husband comes up with some true zingers. Today's quote, said while watching an episode of Glee:

"Can we please change the channel? I'm starting to grow a vagina."

For the less swift readers, I guess he thinks it's a girly show - definitely not his cup of tea.

Sorry if that's offensive to anyone, but it certainly made my night. I'm still laughing.

I may laugh about it 'til tomorrow or the next day. I'll let you know.

2nd layer of hell.

Anna is in teething hell. This also means I'm in teething hell. Satan has somehow replaced my precious, sweet child with a look alike spawn. A teething spawn. Sent here to wreak havoc on house and home.

She chews, she screams, she drools enough to fill an olympic sized swimming pool. My clothes are soaked, her clothes are soaked, I had to call our insurance company to replace the drool damaged wood floors in our house.

That may be a bit extreme, but you get the point here.

I walked into her room yesterday after I ASSumed she'd been taking a nap. Nope, no nap. She'd miraculously turned herself into a woodchuck during her "nap" and devoured her crib. The crib that would one day convert into her big girl bed. The bed she'd have forever or 'til she got married to some rich man who could afford to buy her another bed.

I'd been warned - You better get a crib guard before she starts teething! Nah, not my child. Never would she eat her furniture. Not on your life.

She ate her furniture.

I hear it's high in fiber.

So, now I have rigged her crib in a way that is oh-so-trashtastic but practical and free! Free is nice when money is tight.

Voila. What do you think? I'm thinking about opening up an Etsy store to sell my trashtastic creations.

Yeah, mom, I did it, so what’s it to ya? GUILTY!

Here’s why I did it. Yes, those are tooth marks. Yes, there are many of them down the entire front of her crib. Oh, and yes, my daughter has a huge gap in between her front teeth.

This is what she looks like when she’s resting after a long day of wood chucking.

Something old, something new.

My child is a whiz. When I say whiz, I mean she's very intelligent when it comes to trickery. Is this a good thing? I don't know. It's cute as heck right now. I'll let you know how I feel about it at a later date.

Anna has a habit of bringing me small pieces of lint and paper that she finds in random places around my house. Motherhood has made me lazy, I'm not going to lie, so, ahem, some minor details of my house keeping have slipped maybe just a tad. There's plenty of paper and lint for her to pick up, so it keeps her busy. That's why I don't vacuum. Ok?

So, she joyfully walks up to me, hands me the lint, I say, "Thank YOU!" in an exaggerated tone to let her know that I appreciate her help - hopefully this will train her to do chores later in life. She usually smiles and walks away to find her next lint casualty.

Well, lately I've noticed that she will have a piece of lint or paper in her left hand, walk up to me with an empty right hand, pat my hand with her right hand and then walk away pretending the whole time that she did, in fact, give me the lint even though it's still in her possession. What makes this little "exchange" even funnier is the look of pure "evil" on her face when she does it. I can see the little wheels turning in her head as she does it --> Here, mom, lookie what I found! ((pretend to hand it off to mom)) HA! Dumb mom fell for it again. 1 for Anna. 0 for mom. ((walk away with a smile/smirk on my face)) <--- Earlier today she found a pen on the floor. The mom side of me invisions her running with the pen, slipping on the floor, pen goes down throat, make a mad dash to the ER. Could this happen? Sure. Would this happen? Probably not. I've inherited my own mother's paranoid gene - YAY for genetics. Anyway, Anna tried the fake hand switch on my husband, turned around and walked away. It's hard to sit there with a straight face because we both know that Anna thinks she's pulled the wool over our eyes. She's outsmarted us. She's a genius. My husband called her on her little trick and eventually wrangled the pen away from her. Did that make her change her ways? Nope, she still continued with the pen/paper, empty hand switch the rest of the day. So, see, she is a whiz. Or conniving. We haven't figured it out yet.

9-0, my little nuggets.

I'm not going to lie and say I'm a big sports fanatic. Until a few years ago, I didn't even know what a false start was, so none of that pretending to know about sports when I don't know a thing about sports just because I'm a girl and want to look cool to the guys about my knowledge about sports.

Ah. You get my drift.

I will say, however, that I am frindiggin' PROUD of our Saints! For the first time, well, EVER, we are undefeated. U-N-D-E-F-E-A-T-E-D <-- did I spell that right? Yessum, 9 and 0. Count 'em - 9 wins, 0 losses.

I've never been prouder. I just wanted to share. That is all.

Happy cows come from Louisiana.

 

So, yes, it’s almost Thanksgiving, and, yes, I’m just posting pictures of Halloween, but I still should get an A for effort on this one.  The simple fact that I actually dressed up this year and managed to not scare small children and animals is a feat in and of itself.  I by-passed the standard white trash mullet and missing teeth costume for something a little classier, ahem, sexier.  Don’t get your hopes up (or puke) – I didn’t go the Frederick’s of Hollywood route.  I’m a woman of class, sophistication, modesty – plus, I didn’t feel like shaving my legs above the knees. 

I kid, I kid. Maybe.

So, enough about me.  My nearest and dearest (aka hubby J and daughter A) dressed up as well.  It was my first official year as a mother of a Trick-or-treater (last year she was a mere 3 weeks old), and even though she can’t say, “Trick or Treat” or really even walk on her own up to the door without tripping a few times, I still managed to get a few pieces of candy here and there – mainly from people who called us up to their door (I kid you not).  It’s amazing how generous people are with their candy when they see a cute lil’ kid in a cow suit.  Moooo. 

So, here's my little cow. Yes, I called my own child a cow. She's young, it won't affect her now. I'll just hide these pictures during those formative (and oh so pesky) teen years when her self-esteem is formed. No, baby, you were never a cow - you're a beautiful swan, a butterfly, a giraffe. <-- Hey, I think they're beautiful!

Here she is when we first put the costume on her.  I probably should’ve tried it on her say, I dunno, BEFORE HALLOWEEN!   She was swallowed by the cow.  She’s a trooper, though. 

Her attempt at giving me the side eye.  FAIL.  She’s too cute.

Here she is attempting to walk in the cow costume.

And then falling.  I am pretending she’s just playing the part and attempting to crawl on all fours like a cow.  My little thespian.

Cutest tail evah!

Since no one knows how to operate my camera, here’s an extremely far away picture of the three of us.  We’ve yet to get one good family shot together.

Here’s a shot of Anna in the stroller right after someone said that “he” is such a cute Dalmatian. 

Our ToT time was cut short since we had to get back to get ready for our Halloween party.  I can’t say Anna wasn’t thrilled to get that cow costume off.  

Grand Paw Paw and GiGi came over to watch Anna, and the hubs and I got ready for the Halloween party.  I went as some famous (or infamous) actress and Joe went as a Scuba guy.  ;)

I didn’t stuff although I should’ve.  I had nightmares of toilet paper balls popping out at the most inopportune times.  So, I just went with what God blessed me with and called it a day. 

L to R: My sister, Marilyn Monroe, Marilyn Jr., Mimi Marilyn Sr.

We are one klassy kouple.

My attempt at Marilyn lips.  FAIL.

I attempted Marilyn lips all night while my sister made crazy eyes behind me.  We truly are a functional family, I promise.

Mi mamacita and moi.

The girls.  Hotness.

Joe’s flippers.  They own me.  Seriously. 

My dad playing the drums (sorry it’s so dark, I didn’t have my flash with me).

My mom and Joe singing Happy Birthday to my dad.  Yep, he’s a Halloween baby. 

So, all in all, it was a fun Halloween.  I loved Trick-or-Treating with my child. It was great to dress up as someone who is, quite honestly, my complete opposite.  It was fun hanging out with family and friends.  I’m looking forward to next year and already thinking about potential costumes that 1) aren’t slutty and 2) cover my hairy knees!

How was your Halloween?