Lola as a carnie...

Don't even ask.


Tell me she doesn't look like a miniature Italian wrestler. Or the 'strongman' at the circus.

Doesn't everyone wear black electrician's tape for a mustache while they are wearing their swimsuit and swim cap?

No?

Attention, World:

Henceforth (because that sounds so official and all), my youngest child has requested that she no longer be referred to as 'Libby'.


She would prefer to be called...



(Wait for it)











"Something cute..."








"Like... 'Lola'."


Little Lola Linson?

I told her I would call her 'Lola', but only if she would call me 'Tater Tot'. It was my best effort to come up with the most ridiculous name possible on such short notice (plus, I was hungry, I think.)

I knew she would refuse to call me Tater Tot, and we could commence with calling her by her real name. I told her if she liked, that I'd call her Elizabeth. But Lola?!!


So on that note...











Tater Tot will see y'all tomorrow. ;)

Yet another thing television has ruined for me...

Flipping channels this evening, I stumbled on the show, “While the Children Sleep”. I thought to myself, “Self, pay attention! We could use some new ideas!” (because I do occasionally address myself as ‘Self’. Why yes, I do.)

So far most of my things to do “while the children sleep” include: folding laundry, drinking wine, and hanging out with the hubster. Oh, and of course, we can’t forget: going to bed early. Because while those children *do* sleep, they also wake up at the @$$-crack of dawn.

But turns out this is a movie about a live-in babysitter who concocts a plan to ‘off’ the mother of the children. Whaaaaaat?? Why? Well, I admit… I didn’t actually watch very much of it after I figured out that it wasn’t a ‘how-to’ of insanely interesting things to do after your kids go to bed… but my best guess is so she can live happily ever after with the husband.

If you ask me, the little psycho hasn’t really thought this one through very clearly. Get rid of the mother?! Who does she think will do the laundry? And the chauffering?? And bake all those cupcakes for the end of the year cake walk?? So far, the babysitter has the EASY gig.

And if this particular babysitter is anything like some of the ones *we’ve* had in the past… well, that husband had just better prepare himself to live in a household where the children refuse to go to bed at all, much less actually *sleep*, and where Play-doh just sits drying out in clumps on the kitchen table. I speak from experience on that one. I think putting away the Play-doh was one babysitter’s Kryptonite.

I guess it should have been a clue that the movie was on the Lifetime Movie Network. If it’s not ‘The Notebook’ playing on a seemingly endless loop, then it’s a movie about a woman who discovers that her husband has a double life, and is trying to have her killed. And all the while, she manages to look impeccable, even in the face of her uncertain future. Chinos, v-neck sweater, tasteful jewelry, and impossibly natural highlights only accentuate her haunted features. ;)

Out of curiosity, I flipped to the next hour’s programming to see what was on tap on good ol’ Lifetime… and, no joke, it was a movie called, “The Babysitter’s Seduction”. Yep… The. Babysitter’s. Seduction. (I couldn’t even make that up.)

So, that settles it… I can’t ever hire a live-in babysitter. Not that we have the cash flow for that kind of thing, anyway, but now it’s *really* not an option. I’d always be looking for signs that she wanted me dead so that she could drink my wine, and seduce my hottie husband.


Thanks for the ‘heads-up’, Lifetime.

Little Picasso

Libby drew this picture for me to hang on the refrigerator.
It is a picture of her, her siblings, and some of her cousins.



Isn't it nice?



Isn't it... er... 'detailed'?

When I asked her what they were wearing in the picture, she said, "Hula clothes!" (Ah yes... I noticed the grass skirts.)


So that would mean that... those are... ummmm.






ohhhh... they're...COCONUT SHELLS!!







Thank the Lord. ;)

Oo-la-la!

Josie: I need to learn some more French.

Me (surprised): I didn’t know you knew *any* French.

Josie: Well, I can say a couple of things. I learned them from a book. But I should probably learn more.

Me: Always a good idea to learn a new language. But do you mind if I ask why?



Josie: For the guinea pigs.



Me: Um… okaaaaay?


Turns out that she read somewhere that guinea pigs (which are not ‘pigs’ and are not from Guinea… go figure) were brought to Europe by traders in the 16th century. She then made the (logical?) deduction that there was a good chance that our guinea pigs’ ancestors were raised in France.

Which, I guess, would explain their fondness for croissants and their penchant for being rude to tourists.


Josie: Anyway… they MIGHT only understand French.

Me: You think?

Josie: Yes. So, last night, I told them ‘Good night’ in French. Which, by the way, is ‘Bonne nuit’. (Which… by the way… she pronounced: “Bonn newt”)


Me: What happened?


Josie (shrugging): They just looked at me.


Me: Ah, I see.





Sooo typical of the French. ;)

A close call.

Whew... that was a close one. Thought I wasn't going to actually be able to get onto the website because my 'cookie has been disabled'.

I don't even know what that means. But it sounds painful, and it probably happened after kid #3.


My cookie is disabled.

Or out of commission. Either one.

A word of advice:

If you just happen to be out running errands one day...



And it just happens to be lunchtime...


And you just happen to have your children in the van with you...



And one of those children just *happens* to be an almost 8 year old boy...



I do *not* recommend asking him where he'd like to go to grab a quick bite of lunch.








Because he might just HAPPEN to say...

















"Hooters."