Pink Ladies

This Friday was the annual Sock Hop at Isabelle's school. This is one of Isabelle's favorite nights of the year, as she loves getting dressed up in her poodle skirt that Grams made for her and showing off her dance moves. By dance moves I mean awkwardly shuffling around the floor, cause girl was blessed with Todd's coordination on the dance floor. Which, for those of you not in the know, is not good. Sophia and Hudson were blessed with the groove. But what she lacks in skills, she makes up for in beauty. It more than makes up for it.

Getting dressed and ready to go. Sophia decided to go with a princess dress for her outfit. Nice.

First she descended the outside steps like royalty, then she busted out with a huge twirl in the driveway. On top of beauty, we'll also add "very humble" to her list of finer qualities.

Did I also mention attitude? Here she is on the dance floor. Lord, help us.

A good time was definitely had by all. Hudson and Sophia had fun running around with the big kids and playing with balloons. This is the third Sock Hop we've attended since Isabelle started elementary school, and it's funny to watch the dynamics change from year to year. The first year she just shuffled around the outside of the dance floor with all the other kids in kindergarten. In first grade, she only hung out with her regular group of girls. This year, however, there was a mix of boys and girls dancing together, and this little boy Cody kept angling in to dance next to her. They also kept chasing each other around the gym, and generally being dumb second graders. I joked with her afterwards as to whether Cody was the new "Devin" (Devin, as most of you that hear about Isabelle regularly know, is the boy in her class for the past two years that cannot stay away from her for the life of him. Poor kid gets in trouble in class constantly (for two yeras now) for talking to her, follows her like a lost dog around the playground, he used to play with her hair, races her to our car at the end of the school day...the poor kid is beyond smitten.) Anyway, Isabelle clearly stated there was no new Devin, but that Cody was "just Cody." Way to keep your options open, Isabelle. Once again, Lord help us.

A purse for your thoughts?

Our garage acquired a new occupant over the weekend, and no it was not my coveted Ford Flex (sigh...one day!). No, it was a new gas (gas! apparently this is important) lawn trimmer (aka "weed eater" where I come from). Much complaining has taken place during the past couple of seasons from Todd over the subpar electric (read: must be plugged in and runs with a cord) trimmer that was being used. Never mind the cuss words that were flung when the string broke or plastic parts fell (were forcefully torn) off the body. Our neighbors must be so proud to have us around...

At any rate, I agreed and gave my blessing when Todd asked if he could get a new trimmer next season, and if it could be gas. Now at the time I was unaware "next season" would be February, nor was I fully aware that purchasing a gas powered trimmer could run as high as $200. So imagine my surprise when I came home yesterday (Friday) and Todd said we'd be buying a new trimmer this weekend. Wha? Did I miss spring? Is summer here already? Cause I feel a little screwed. No, the lawn needs mowed and apparently that cannot occur without said trimmer. Sigh. Fine. So then the cost discussion came up and I pointed out really what a waste this whole thing was considering how little the trimmer gets used. Todd is particular about the lawn at mows it AT LEAST once a week during peak growing season, but only trims it a couple of times a month. I pointed out that if I were to spend the same amount of money on a purse, that the cost per use would be so much higher.

Let's cut to the chase...this argument got a little ugly and we both agreed to disagree. (Honestly, most couples fight about disciplining the kids, finances, cleaning the house....we fight about cost per use on a purse v. a yard tool. We're fucked up.) Bottom line: he got his damn trimmer. No, it didn't cost $200, but it sure as hell wasn't free. And I sure as hell didn't get a purse. But it did get me thinking; had I won the argument, what purse would I buy? Hmmmm....

If I were being conservative, and hitting the $200 mark, it would be this beautiful hobo from Banana Republic. And yes, I'd get the yellow. Which would blow everybody's mind considering they've probably never seen me wear anything close to that much color.

In my fantasy Alice in Wonderland existence, I'd buy this beauty. Wait...I need to wipe the drool of my keyboard and possibly put my panties back on to continue. This, my friends, is my dream purse. It's completely me (black! stud detailing!), and I'd quite possibly let it sleep in bed with me at night if it were mine. Tiny problem...$650. Yeah, that's not happening while Todd has a pulse. Or at least while we're married. I mean, I tried to convince him the other day what a sound investment it would be to buy me a black Chanel Camelia ring...yeah, he wasn't going for it. I even tossed in the token, "but I have two daughters and could pass it along to one of them one day." Nope. Wasn't phased. Bastard. One of these days I'll buy this purse and just tell him I found a perfect knockoff. Shhh...don't tell.


"Lay on your back, point your heels to Jesus, and think of handbags!" ~ Karen, Will and Grace

For whom the alarm tolls

This has been "one of those" weeks.

Three nights ago, a sock that was on top of my lamp almost caught fire. In my defense, I didn't know the sock was there. And no, you don't need to know how it ended up there. Regardless, Todd was laying next to me in bed (I was reading, thus why the light was on) and asked the always pleasant "what smells like burning cat" question. I looked over to see smoke coming from the top of my lamp (said sock), and promptly grabbed it from the lamp and tossed it to the ground. Condition of my sock? Obviously ruined. Laughs had from this incident? Many. Lesson learned? Ummmm...check for socks on your lamp?

Two nights ago we were awoken at 400 in the morning by the sound of our car alarm going off in the driveway. Todd jumped out of bed and ran to the front door. He looked outside to find the minivan was still there (Damn. Honestly, I wasn't really moving too fast cause who the F cares if they took the van. They'd have been doing us a favor.) At that he walks upstairs only to find Hudson standing in the middle of the living room with Todd's keys, pushing the alarm button. Yes, at 400 in the morning. No, I don't know what the hell he was thinking, but I'm sure our neighbors were all asking the same thing.

Yesterday I took Isabelle to the dentist only to find out that in six months' time we will be starting her orthodontist work. Apparently her crowding issue has moved into the severe category and has to be dealt with pronto. Pronto = Expensive! The child is 7 and is going to be the death of me, or at least of my wallet. We leave the dentist, me slightly shaking as I text Todd to tell him about our impending financial doom from braces, and she randomly asks when she's going to get twinkle toe boots. Timing is everything with me, and this was *not* the time. I shot her my look of death and she quickly got the hint. On that note, I'll be selling off her brother and/or sister to the highest bidder to fix her teeth so Isabelle can continue through life in beauty queen fashion, so do let me know if you're aware of anyone in the market for a fairly well trained three year old or 22 month old. Accessories included!

From Sunday night through Tuesday night, I slept a total of 8 hours. Folks, that's not normal and one can barely form a coherent thought on such little sleep. Hudson was sick and doesn't do well sleeping unless he has the perfect balance of pa-pa (pacifier) and drinks (dink!) of water throughout the night. And apparently the little prince wants someone right next to him when he bellows out these demands every thirty minutes. Sleep? Nowhere to be found. He has finally snapped out of it, though, and last night I slept in my bed for the first time in days.

Which brings us to last night. We missed the entire first half of the Lobos basketball game due to the TCU and Utah chicks going into triple overtime. WTF?!? Rarely do we get a station that's actually showing the Lobos, and of course the time we do we miss half the game. Perfect. But we're cruising along, looking solid against UNLV...and then the last 5 minutes of the game happen. An 18 point lead quickly diminishes to 2. Todd goes straight to his typical gloom and doom statement, "there's no way we're winning this game," which in turn earns him a nice FU from me...further obsenities fly, but are apologized for later and chalked up to "stress of the game." By some grace of God UNM won the game by 10. We got massive love during the game from the announcers and it was even mentioned that we're NATIONAL contenders. I'm giddy, riding high off another win against a top 25 team, and then Todd mentions we should try to fly to Vegas if the Lobos make the MWC Championship game. My eyes almost pop out of my head, as Todd never suggests we do anything even remotely exciting like this. Immediately I'm googling that shit to find dates. And of course, in the true fashion of this week, it turns out the MWC Conference tourney is happening when we have company in town. Cause that's just the kind of week it's been.

Grandad = Cool

I had nothing but the best of intentions to get something posted on here last weekend, to wrap up the month of January. But it didn't happen. Obviously. Regardless, a week late in posting pictures and updating the blog is equivalent to me being about 10 minutes late, well, anywhere I go, which happens all the time. So I guess what I'm saying is...this is right on time!

January wrapped up with Grandad (my Dad) coming to visit. The kids love, no ADORE, their Grandad. He comes up every few months to spend the weekend with us, sometimes to celebrate special events (Halloween, birthdays), but sometimes it's just because, like this weekend. We went to Isabelle's soccer game on Saturday morning (she scored a badass goal!) and before that had watched Sophia and Hudson attend soccer class (Sophia didn't cry!). On Sunday we headed down to take in the sights at Safeco Field for Mariners FanFest. It's a nice little event that gets the blood pumping for baseball. The kids love running on the field, and it's just something special we do with Grandad.

Boy bonding time.

Folks, this is wrong. We spotted this little girl at FanFest, and I had to take a picture. I'm assuming her parents put her in this outfit cause it was cold. I don't care, as it's F-d up. And I'm sure some of you are oohing and aahing and saying how cute she looks. It's not cute. It's not Halloween, and jackets aren't that expensive. If you can pay to get into FanFest, you can buy your kid a coat. I think her Dad thought it was cute, which is just pathetic. To further add to the story, this kid came over to see what my pack was doing at one point, and Sophia promptly knocked her to the ground (Honestly, it was not intentional, at least not to Poodle, as she thought Poodle was Hudson. Who she knocks down all the time.) . Anyway, Poodle started crying (which was BS, cause Sophia barely nudged her), and Poodle's dad shot me what I guess was his look of death. Dude, you only have one kid, your look of death barely registers on my radar. So I just smirked at him and offered a non-genuine "sorry." Come to my house for a day and you'll master the look of death in no time, as you're dropping it on someone every 5 minutes. Sophia recounted the story to Todd a little later (he was off getting snacks and missed Poodle) by telling him she knocked over a poodle. Of course, Todd thought it was an actual dog and found the story hilarious. I shared the above picture and told him it was actually a kid dressed as a poodle, and then he was just sad. PARENTS: NO POODLE OUTFITS UNLESS IT'S HALLOWEEN! Sheesh.

My Dad and Sophia share a special bond. They just delight in each other's company.

Just not sure what we're gonna do with this girl.

My Dad will be heading our way again next in about six weeks to take Isabelle to see Alice in the theaters. We all share a high love for Johnny Depp, so Todd and I will probably tag along. We were told by Isabelle that she "guessed" we could ride in the car with her and Grandad, but we don't get to sit by them in the theater. See, taking Isabelle to see a movie is another Grandad treat each time he comes. Kind of like buying ice cream for them each time we pass a Baskin Robbins or Dairy Queen. Yes, my kids can be easily bought. They're okay with it. At any rate, Grandad? In my kids' eyes, the coolest person on the planet. Next to Taylor Swift.

P.S. I just went to view this in blog form and realised the pictures are very big when you click on them. Sorry. I'd go back and fix it but I'm too F'ing lazy. I'll try harder next time.