American Girl is scary

Want to go to a real haunted house? Go to your nearest American Girl store.

Last year, Caitlynn begged and pleaded for us to visit the American Girl store in Chicago. We begrudgingly obliged. After spending a couple hours trapped in the store with Caitlynn being stared by various sets of doll eyes and being surrounded by pink and girlie things, I felt the need to visit a Bass Pro Shop just to even things out. Miles and Joe were lucky. They were able to escape the American Girl store without getting too much pink on them.

Caitlynn has an American Girl doll. Just one doll -- one of those historical dolls that they sell. I actually don't mind the books about the historical dolls. However, I thought that her fascination had waned over the past year when I found the doll just sitting in Caitlynn's room not being played with. It seemed Caitlynn had forgotten about the doll and the numerous sets of clothes until recently.

In the past few months Caitlynn has been playing with her doll and is now circling items in the American Girl catalog as part of her Christmas wish list. She even wants a new doll. This time, however, she wants one that looks like her. Is it me or is that just creepy?

So, that isn't the part that scares me. I can see getting her another doll (only one more) and maybe a doll outfit, but that's about it. I'm not going to spend all of my discretionary income on American Girl toys. I especially won't do it after seeing some websites devoted to American Girl designed and written by teenage girls with serious obsessions over these dolls. Caitlynn already has some obsessive tendencies and I'm not going to feed into it by buying her everything she wants out of the catalog.

I looked at one of these sites devoted to American Girl. It's scary. Just plain frightening. I'd rather watch Chucky movies than subject myself to some of the home movies these girls have made. Mind you, these are teenage girls playing with American Girl dolls. And not just one or two dolls -- one girl has about 20 dolls plus accessories. What!? That's a whole lotta money spent on little clothes for a doll that doesn't do anything but sit there.

Probably the scariest part has to do with the parents allowing this to happen. Sure, you may think it's harmless for a young girl to being playing with dolls. But at age 17 or 18? Um. Shouldn't she be out having a grand old time with friends and boyfriends? Maybe even sip a beer or two (but don't drive!)? (Ok, so I'm not really advocating underage drinking but I am being realistic here. I was 18 once and I had my fair share of cheap beer back then.) I think I would rather have Caitlynn hanging out with friends as opposed to dolls when she's 18.

I have to walk out of the office when Caitlynn starts watching videos about American Girl dolls. Chucky is much a much better doll. At least he's entertaining even if he does want to kill you. He's not scary at all.

I cannot embed the videos. If you want to take a look, click the links below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vgIIMuKKyQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1UXKD31WPs&feature=related

Or, better yet... just go to You Tube and do a search for American Girl.








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Happenings about the town

Things have been happening around here. I just haven't been writing about them. Sorry. With school, work, and everything else, I lose track of time (and my keys).

Here's a quick run-down of Kid-isms of late:

Recently, Miles asked "When do I get paid?" And then he added, "You should pay me for loving you." Oh yeah? Yeah, well, I can find another kid to love me without paying him. So, there turd-munch. 

Then Miles and I have been going back and forth about his Halloween costume. At first he wanted to be an elf. Fine. However, there is a slight problem in finding an elf costume in October. So, now he wants to be Frankenstein. I think we can handle that.

Caitlynn decided to be a vampire for Halloween. She's afraid of vampires, so perhaps this is her way of getting over Sanguivoriphobia. Yeah, I looked that up. It's "fear of blood suckers." Close enough.

Caitlynn was greatly disappointed to find out that my boss is going to Disney World and not us. She saw my bosses' email inbox and got really excited thinking it was my email inbox when she saw an email regarding Disney reservations. Sorry, kiddo. (In case you are wondering, it is normal for me to check my bosses' email. It's part of my job.)

Caitlynn then wanted us to take a weekend trip to Chicago to visit the American Girl store. Only problem... we live in Montana, about a 2 1/2 day drive to Chi-town. I don't think so. Even a 4 day weekend wouldn't cut it. Again... sorry, kid.

I have more things to say about American Girl that I'm saving for another post. American Girl is scary - that's the gist of my upcoming post.

And one more thing:
You will be happy to hear that Harry the pumpkin is still in tact. In fact, Joe carved him. He's only slightly ugly now. The pumpkin, not Joe.

Cheers!



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Sorry, little pumpkin.

I cannot have pretty things. Well, I try to have pretty things but then kids come around ruin everything.

I'd like to decorate for Halloween, but I'm afraid of what would happen to my decorations. Based on how the kids just treated a cute little pumpkin, I fear they would have a hey-day with other decorations. They have this way with making something nice turn into something ugly or maimed or ruined in a matter of minutes.

I think they learned this behavior from the squirrels in Chicago. I don't think Joe and I act this way.

This pumpkin got "squirreled."

A couple years ago, we lived in Chicago where 2 squirrels terrorized our back porch. These bold little buggers ate all the bird seed in our bird feeder, ate all the strawberries on my little strawberry plant, and destroyed a pumpkin. They didn't touch the tomatoes, thankfully. We would find them sitting on our porch every day (waiting for a cup of coffee, perhaps). From what I could tell, they didn't bother other people. Just us. I guess our porch had the most to munch on. They even tried eating my jade plant but those don't taste good, so the squirrels left it alone.

Yeah, I think I became known as the "broom lady" because every time I saw the squirrels on our porch, I would run out there with the broom hoping to knock one off the porch. We lived on the 2nd floor. I don't think a squirrel could survive that kind of fall. At least I hoped it wouldn't survive (Ok, say it, "Squirrel Killer!"). But the squirrels were too fast for me. Our neighbors probably told stories about this crazy woman hunting squirrels with her broom. I know I would if I was in their shoes. If I wore curlers in my hair and pink robe, then I would have been on the news for sure.

My cute little ruined pumpkin.

The kids still talk about the squirrels and our pumpkin (and me with the broom). Last year, we were here in Montana. All seemed to go well with the pumpkin. Miles let me carve it and we put it outside. We don't have squirrels here to contend with (just nasty magpie birds that sit on our porch) so the pumpkin stayed in tact for the length of the Halloween holiday.

But this year, I picked a small pumpkin. It was a cute little pumpkin to keep in the house. You know, for decoration. It sat so nicely on a hutch... for all of 2 seconds. Miles decided he wanted to play with it and broke the stem off. Then the kids found a black sharpie marker and decided to "decorate" the pumpkin. I was sad for the little pumpkin. It was so cute until it got all marked up and named "Harry." I don't think it looked like a Harry. Maybe a Marlene, but definitely not a Harry.

Um. Yeah.

I chased then kids around the house with a broom. They ruined my pumpkin, what else was I supposed to do?








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Happy Anniversary!

This post is for Joe.

Happy 10th Anniversary, babe!

Here are a few inside jokes between Joe and I. Sorry I'm not explaining these. You had to be there. From the beginning. Every single day.

"So... how are things?" or "So... how'd it go?"
"When I grow up, I want to be Joe or a butterfly."
"That's it. I'm going out for cigarettes."
"Heh, heh, your mom's in jail!"




Oh and the kids don't really care about our anniversary. They are wondering if they will be receiving gifts today. 

Um... Yeah... Have you completed the TPS reports, Caitlynn?






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Head, shoulders, knees, and toes...

One my favorite shows to watch is Dexter on Showtime (vigilante serial killer...love it). So, perhaps, this conversation with Miles while watching Dexter is appropriate. Maybe...

Miles came up to me and decided to count my fingers and toes.

"Mama, you have 10 fingers and 10 toes!"

"Uh-huh. Most people do, Miles."

"But, I want more toes. What if I had lots of toes?"

"Then Dexter would have to chop one off." (kidding... I didn't say this, but I wanted to.)

Instead, I said to Miles, "Well, your shoes wouldn't fit and you would look really weird with 100 toes."

"Yeah, that would be so funny."

Since Miles is in kindergarten now, his counting skills have improved greatly and he seems hell-bent on counting everything, not just fingers and toes. I've written in the past how much I learn from listening to the kids ramble on and on. This time was no exception.

I learned:
Not only do I have 10 fingers and 10 toes, but apparently I have 2 eyes, 2 arms, and 2 feet. I have Miles to thank for letting me know. I've gone 30+ years not knowing vital info about my body. I'm so glad to hear that I don't have 3 eyes.

But I wonder (I know... you wonder, too)...

What would Miles say if I didn't have 10 toes? The whole little piggie song would be off. One piggie wouldn't go wee-wee-wee all the way home. Poor piggie.

And... it also makes me wonder... Why do we have 5 fingers on each hand? Ok, I understand the importance of the thumb. Yeah, yeah... And the index finger. Sometimes the middle finger is useful, especially in heavy traffic in Chicago. Oh and the ring finger symbolizes marriage, I guess. Although, I don't wear a wedding ring. But the pinkie finger -- does it have a purpose besides doing impersonations of Dr. Evil?

I'll let you ponder that as well. Let me know if you find a purpose for the pinkie.



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Parenting by the Numbers

A couple weeks ago, Caitlynn brought home math homework instructing her to look around the house for various numbers. Just by sitting in the kitchen, we collected several numbers -- number of calories per serving of pretzels, number of ounces the pretzel bag weighed, the number of her favorite TV channel, etc.

Since then, I've been thinking of numbers in a parents' life. If numbers are everywhere, then they are certainly in my life as a mom. I have compiled a list of numbers for parents. Yeah, most of the numbers are made up, but they help put this whole world of parenting into perspective.

# of times per day you have to separate the kids when they start fighting: 2x/day

# of kisses it takes to make a boo-boo go away: 3

Hours of sleep mom and dads get at various stages of child development:
Baby -- maybe 4 hours
Toddler -- 6 hours
Young child (5-11) -- 7 hours
Tween years -- 8 hours
Teen years (especially when the are driving and out on weekend nights) -- 4 hours
College years -- 9 hours

How many times you'll have to tell your child, "It's just a movie. Vampires are not real." -- 3x

# of times each morning you have to call out "Wake up! Time to get ready for school!" before they actually get up and get ready for school: at least 3x

# of minutes it takes before they bother you while you are studying or watching a movie: about 2 minutes

# of times you've seen:
The Goonies -- 500x (this movie does not grow old...)
Wizard of Oz -- 300x 
Every single Scooby Doo episode -- 5x each
Every Spongebob episode -- 10x each
Any other kids show or movie -- at least 5x each

# of times you will step on a lego in the middle of the night and say a silent "F---!" on your way to the bathroom: 12x

Age at which they know Santa is not real:
Oldest child: 8 years
Youngest child: 4 years

# of times you have threatened to cancel Christmas if they don't stop being turds (yeah, kids can be turds): 5x


# of times you've been peed on, puked on, shit on, coughed on, had snot rubbed on you: so many times that I lost count

# of blog posts I've written on the subject of my kids, parenting, and other stuff: 381 including today's post

# of hours you'll spend over the course of your life worrying about your kids: 1,592,678,001 hours


There are more numbers related to parenting, but I simply do not have time to count everything. I have about 2 minutes before Caitlynn comes in here to ask me for a glass of water.




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