Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Lipstick Letter
Its been said it takes a whole village to raise a child. In my extreme, unusual circumstance I would have to say not even a whole army could do the job. This morning, before I got out of bed Remi awakened and convinced her daddy to let her out of her crib. He doesn't seem to understand the concept that if you let her out of her crib you thereby claim responsibility for whatever crime she commits. Her crime today? A lipstick letter she left for me on my bathroom mirror.This lipstick was my favorite. I had used it only once but I was in love with it. It made me look just like Angelina Jolie.
Somehow She managed to climb up on the counter, open the drawer, pick the new tube over 2 dozen old ones , and write the letter.
It was written in baby pig Latin. There were lots figure eights and bold lines. It wasn't the easiest to decipher. Here's what I believe she was trying to tell me:
Dear Mommy,
Its daddy's fault that I'm not in my crib.
When will the stork come back for Sydney?
Could you buy me a cape so that I can help my superhero Dora the Explorer take over the universe?
Love, Remi
P.S. I never liked it when you looked like Angelina Jolie.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
The Anorexic Waitress
Last night Cassidy and I went to a local resturaunt for a good home cooked meal. I wanted mexican and she wanted cajun. We couldn't decide so she asked me, "what would Remi choose?" Oh that was a no-brainer. She loves spicy foods so, cajun it was. It turned out to be delicious, thank you Remi.
It was crowded so I figured we would be given a beeper or, a wait time at least. We chose first available seating, which in my opinion, should have included a bathroom stall due to my hunger level.
Luckily, we were seated right away and ready to order within 45 seconds. Our waitress was an anorexic skinny 18 year old girl. She was pleasant enough and smiled a lot. By the looks of her though, she needed food way more than the two of us. Cassidy gave me the "look". We both noticed she was too skinny. The poor girl looked like a Paris runway model. I almost, for a second, felt guilty for ordering anything besides celery or lettuce. I got over it when the next hunger pang hit.
We people watched while we waited. We made small talk. We helped sing happy birthday to some guy who stood on a chair and held a birthday cake. We eventually ate. Neither of us had brought up the subject of our anorexic waitress throughout the entire meal.
We got the bill. I paid it. Then, out of nowhere, Cassidy asked "are you gonna leave her a tip?" I asked, "why wouldn't I, because she is so skinny?" Cassidy said, "yes." I answered, "no".
It was crowded so I figured we would be given a beeper or, a wait time at least. We chose first available seating, which in my opinion, should have included a bathroom stall due to my hunger level.
Luckily, we were seated right away and ready to order within 45 seconds. Our waitress was an anorexic skinny 18 year old girl. She was pleasant enough and smiled a lot. By the looks of her though, she needed food way more than the two of us. Cassidy gave me the "look". We both noticed she was too skinny. The poor girl looked like a Paris runway model. I almost, for a second, felt guilty for ordering anything besides celery or lettuce. I got over it when the next hunger pang hit.
We people watched while we waited. We made small talk. We helped sing happy birthday to some guy who stood on a chair and held a birthday cake. We eventually ate. Neither of us had brought up the subject of our anorexic waitress throughout the entire meal.
We got the bill. I paid it. Then, out of nowhere, Cassidy asked "are you gonna leave her a tip?" I asked, "why wouldn't I, because she is so skinny?" Cassidy said, "yes." I answered, "no".
Friday, April 25, 2008
Adoption Story
My best friend in elementary school was adopted. I remember the day she told me. She said it was because her real mother fed her 5 day old milk. The first night I had a sleep over at her house I was mesmerized. She was the only child of her adopted parents. She had everything she wanted, even two bedrooms.
My 7 year old mind began to wonder if I had been adopted. I didn't have two bedrooms. I didn't even have one of my own. I shared a room with two sisters. I seriously wanted to be adopted. In my mind my real parents must be looking for me. And when they found me they would have a logical explanation for why they gave me away.
It became a small obsession of mine to find out if I had been adopted. To this day I still wonder sometimes even though I look just like my "adopted" father. I asked my mother one day about my adoption. She told me that I was not adopted, without making eye contact. She then closed the subject from any further discussion. This made me even more inquisitive about where I came from. I wondered why she wasn't telling me the truth.
I went through all of her secret files and I did find my birth certificate. It revealed no new information. I figured it must've been misprinted and decided to make it my life goal to find out where my real parents were.
Needless to say my case went cold meaning most likely my adopted parents are my real biological parents.
My 7 year old mind began to wonder if I had been adopted. I didn't have two bedrooms. I didn't even have one of my own. I shared a room with two sisters. I seriously wanted to be adopted. In my mind my real parents must be looking for me. And when they found me they would have a logical explanation for why they gave me away.
It became a small obsession of mine to find out if I had been adopted. To this day I still wonder sometimes even though I look just like my "adopted" father. I asked my mother one day about my adoption. She told me that I was not adopted, without making eye contact. She then closed the subject from any further discussion. This made me even more inquisitive about where I came from. I wondered why she wasn't telling me the truth.
I went through all of her secret files and I did find my birth certificate. It revealed no new information. I figured it must've been misprinted and decided to make it my life goal to find out where my real parents were.
Needless to say my case went cold meaning most likely my adopted parents are my real biological parents.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Beauty is in the Eye of Justin
A couple of months ago Justin asked me to help him create his own Myspace page. I agreed. He pulled up a chair next to me at the computer and we got started.
I went over the basics of how Myspace works. He was very attentive especially when I started searching for new "friends" in our area. When it was time to start sending friend requests I could see we were going to be there a while. He did searches in all the neighboring counties. He proceeded to send requests to girls that he considered good enough for him. He was making his decision based on their profile pic. Then, he decided to take a break and left me in charge of finding him more "friends".
Here's what he said: "Don't send requests to ugly girls mama, I don't want to be "friends" with someone just for their personality." "What matters is whats on the outside." "I can't be seen with an ugly girl on my arm."
I frantically sent requests from him to girls with "personality" while he was gone.
I went over the basics of how Myspace works. He was very attentive especially when I started searching for new "friends" in our area. When it was time to start sending friend requests I could see we were going to be there a while. He did searches in all the neighboring counties. He proceeded to send requests to girls that he considered good enough for him. He was making his decision based on their profile pic. Then, he decided to take a break and left me in charge of finding him more "friends".
Here's what he said: "Don't send requests to ugly girls mama, I don't want to be "friends" with someone just for their personality." "What matters is whats on the outside." "I can't be seen with an ugly girl on my arm."
I frantically sent requests from him to girls with "personality" while he was gone.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Echo
Remi's Dad: Remi, daddy has to go to work now.
Remi: NOW!
Remi's Dad: Are you going to be a good girl today?
Remi: DAY!
Remi's Dad: I will see you later, ok?
Remi: OK!
Remi's Dad: Bye Remi
Remi: DORA!
Remi: NOW!
Remi's Dad: Are you going to be a good girl today?
Remi: DAY!
Remi's Dad: I will see you later, ok?
Remi: OK!
Remi's Dad: Bye Remi
Remi: DORA!
Monday, April 21, 2008
The Pacifier Bandit
Last night while I was cleaning the dining/playroom I found three of them. They were neatly piled in the corner of Remi's Little Tykes grocery cart. This was not the work of a zillion year old cat. Remi is the pacifier bandit.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Remi, Dora, and Me
Today, Remi and I decided to venture out of the house. It was exciting because we really haven't been out, just the two of us, since Sydney was born. We were headed to the park when I noticed a large dark cloud was following us. It proceeded to dump rain on our "parade".
Plan B, go to the Everything's a Dollar Store instead of Walmart to avoid Dora the Explorer. Within 3 minutes of entering the store I spotted a Dora the Explorer head band. In fact she was everywhere it seemed. Even if she were to be hidden, Remi could find her because I believe they speak the same language. You see, Dora can speak baby pig latin just like Remi. As a family we have agreed to stop giving Dora all of our money. When Remi saw her she started singing the Dora song that she has had stuck in her head for the past 4 months. She reached for her yelling "oui oui". This means buy me the Dora the Explorer head band please.
I distracted Remi with gum long enough to run out of the Everything's a Dollar Store.
Lastly, we went to the grocery store where Dora stalked us in the cereal isle.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
The Retaking of Her Swing
April 18, 2008 - Friday
This morning Remi decided to repossess her baby swing from Sydney. Somehow she managed to squeeze herself into it. She used the bars to propel herself. This went on for 21 minutes until I had to pry her away from it.
This morning Remi decided to repossess her baby swing from Sydney. Somehow she managed to squeeze herself into it. She used the bars to propel herself. This went on for 21 minutes until I had to pry her away from it.
Lighthouses
April 17, 2008 - Thursday
The 8th grade at Cassidy's school is currently on a field trip at the outer banks. She called me this morning around 7 am to let me know she is alright. I found it odd to hear from her so early considering she never gets out of bed before 715 even on a School day. If she is awake at 7 it usually means she hasn't been asleep at all.
She proceeded to tell me about the previous nights events. As a mother I would have been better off not hearing about her ordeal. First, she said the bed at the hotel smelled like one of Remi's dirty diapers. So I asked myself, "self, why would this bed smell like dirty diapers?" Yuck, Nasty. I demanded she call housekeeping and have that bed immediately destroyed. Then she went on to describe how she lost a pint of blood after she cut herself shaving. What? I asked her. "Yeah", she said, "one of the teachers had to hold pressure for fifteen minutes." She went on to describe how the bleeding stopped after a teacher put a miracle bandaid on her wound.
Now, here's the shocker.
I asked 3 trillion questions about their plans for the day. She said they were going to visit museums, and walk on the beach. I pressured her for all the details. Thats when she said the following. "Mom, we are going around to visit historic sites, you know like, lighthouses and shit." She had never, ever cussed in front of me. She had never even asked. She was truthful and admitted to saying the "s" word. She apologized profusely. I decided to let it go for the moment since she did slice her leg open the night before.
The 8th grade at Cassidy's school is currently on a field trip at the outer banks. She called me this morning around 7 am to let me know she is alright. I found it odd to hear from her so early considering she never gets out of bed before 715 even on a School day. If she is awake at 7 it usually means she hasn't been asleep at all.
She proceeded to tell me about the previous nights events. As a mother I would have been better off not hearing about her ordeal. First, she said the bed at the hotel smelled like one of Remi's dirty diapers. So I asked myself, "self, why would this bed smell like dirty diapers?" Yuck, Nasty. I demanded she call housekeeping and have that bed immediately destroyed. Then she went on to describe how she lost a pint of blood after she cut herself shaving. What? I asked her. "Yeah", she said, "one of the teachers had to hold pressure for fifteen minutes." She went on to describe how the bleeding stopped after a teacher put a miracle bandaid on her wound.
Now, here's the shocker.
I asked 3 trillion questions about their plans for the day. She said they were going to visit museums, and walk on the beach. I pressured her for all the details. Thats when she said the following. "Mom, we are going around to visit historic sites, you know like, lighthouses and shit." She had never, ever cussed in front of me. She had never even asked. She was truthful and admitted to saying the "s" word. She apologized profusely. I decided to let it go for the moment since she did slice her leg open the night before.
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