What happens when I let her pick out her own clothes?

She repays me by channeling Cindy Lauder? Not cool Bridgey - oh,and the red/pink/purple combo was just about more than I could take. At some point during the day I believe I told my 2 y/o I was having a hard time looking at her...

At least she's patriotic, right?

Yes, this is what stealing a blog post looks like.

Thanks @deadlinesandnaptimes. This is just too funny not to post in case we have any different readers, which I really don't think we do, I'm pretty sure all 9 of my readers (up 25% from last time) read your blog, too.

Anyway, you just gotta love the onion, doncha? I'm pretty sure I won't be needing this particular drug anytime soon....anyway, truly hilarious.

FDA Approves Depressant Drug For The Annoyingly Cheerful

OMG - ROTFL

click to enlarge

Thanks @strongrhetoric. Wow - I just automatically added that "@" sign. Seriously, I might end up here sooner rather than later.

Applejacks don't even have a Prize Inside!

While we're getting ready this morning in the bedroom Bridgey is singing a song that went something like this, "over to the ballgame, over to the crowd, buy me applejacks, ever back back back BAAAACCCKKK"

I listen a little closer and sure enough it was her own rendition of "Take me out to the ballgame", I have no idea where she learned this or why she is singing this song in February, but obviously the right thing for me to do was to join in... "Take me out to the ball game, take me out to the crow---"

Bridget: "MOOOOOMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!" she abruptly interrupts my singing. "You, know that song, too?"

Me: "Well, yes, actually I do know that song. And, to be clear it's cracker jacks, not applejacks, there is a very real and important difference between those two jacks".

Bridget: ..pauses, thinks about it and then...."Oh, that is soooo cool - over to the game, over to the crowd, buy applejacks and come BACK BACK BACCCCCCKKKKKK"

From Polaroid to iPhone, I guess some things never change

When I was around 3, I was fascinated by my parent's Polaroid camera. On at least one occasion there is a long standing family story about me going up to the camera, pushing the button and taking a picture of myself. When dad confronted me about taking pictures of myself asking, "Erin, did you push the button on the camera?" Without thinking it all the way through, what with only being 3 and all, I confidently answered no. That would have been great save for the whole POLAROID picture part of it... you know the tangible photographic evidence that was simultaneously spitting out of the camera. It would only be 30-45 seconds before my squished up little face would start to appear on that flimsy polaroid film and I would be completely busted.

Flash some 30 years later to last Friday. I got a little bored waiting for tpd to return home from a seemingly never-ending happy hour with some co-blowoffworkonfridayers. So when the St. Louis February weather was warm enough to sit on my deck and enjoy a cold brew, what else could I do but to take pictures of myself with my way cool iPhone (ps - that's a rhetorical question)...

In the beginning, things were going great and I was getting some killer Facebook profile shots, don't you agree? The lighting, the freshly washed hair, the 18 ounce Schlafly glass... it was a Social Network profile photo dream come true...

But, just when I think taking pictures of myself can't get any better, an all-too-familiar cigarette smoke smell and barking little rat dog sound snapped me out of my iPhone photo shoot...

Internal dialogue running through my head will be brought to you courtesy of Italics... Maybe she didn't see you holding the phone way out in front of you and tilting your head in that no-double-chin sort of way... Surely the shutter snap sound you recently adjusted to the highest volume can't carry that far. Don't turn around. Don't. Turn. Around. And then.... I turned around.

I saw the puffs of smoke before I saw her. Dammit - she's outside smoking...dammit she totally saw the whole thing. Drop your phone, hide it, put it down now, you moron. She probably didn't see it or even if she did she didn't know what it was, right, RIGHT?!

"Hi!" I call out in such a self-assured, confident sort of way, that surely she won't know I was taking pics of myself (that same stunt I had tried to pull on my dad - at least this time the evidence was safely hidden IN my phone).

"New phone?" She answers back. Dammit, dammit - she totally knows what was going down just now who are you kidding... just come clean, idiot, make a joke, chill the eff out, everyone takes pics of themselves, right, RIGHT?!

"Um, oh yeah, I just got the new iPhone (so not true) and I was just sorta playing with it... you know, taking a few pics of the dog and what not..." I say back to her. Dammit, dammit - who says what not? Why did you just say that to her? Is 'what not' the new word for "myself'" cause SHE KNOWS that's what you were doing. Now she thinks you're a complete idiot, pack it up, go inside and for the love of god, STOP TRYING TO OVERCOMPENSATE BY TAKING MORE PICTURES OF THE DOG NOW, you're starting to freak him out, too...

Sorry Brogan, I had no right to drag you down with me.

The bottom line, I blame all of this debacle on tpd. Long withstanding issues of photographing myself aside, had he not been late, I could have made him take the pictures of me (yes, I do that, too) and then it wouldn't have looked quite so weird. So, yup fault = husband. Husband FAIL.

ps - I'd ask you all to tell me that you do this too, but you won't will you? No one does this, do they? Go ahead, tell me, I can take it.

R.I.P. Snowy 1/31/09 - 1/31/09

Yesterday was a ridiculously perfect day for building a snowman. The weather was warm enough to spend more than 10 minutes outside and thus the snow was the perfect big ball rolling consistency (that's what she said).

So, we got to work:

Actually, I got to work, since mostly all Bridget wanted was to lay in the snow and look cute. (Insert a lot of hard work from yours truly here as Bridget laid in the snow and tpd carried in the obscene amount of household items purchased from Sam's only hours prior) and then... TA DA.... "Snowy" the snowperson was born...




Snowy wasn't just any snow person, he was a freaking monster big snowperson with a big snowperson heart to match. However, he was missing a few necessities like, oh you know.. eyes and nose and a pipe to immediately start tarring up those virgin snow lungs. So, we obliged and brought Snowy to "life"....

Bridget was finally thoroughly impressed with my hard work and quickly warmed up to Snowy - amazing for her considering she's usually so freaked out by strangers, but not Snowy. They were fast friends.

Oh, how mighty and strong you were, Snowy, standing there so happy and stoic with broom in your little stick hand.

Snowy spent the beginning of his life doing what snowpeople do - chillin' with his corn cob pipe and watching the world through his eyes made out of coal... life was good for Snowy...for a few hours....

We quickly learned however, that what may be a "perfect" day for snowperson building, may not actually be the perfect day for snowperson living. Something unexpected totally expected happened as time passed... those nice temperatures got even nicer, so nice in fact that entire beings made out of snow didn't "stand" a chance.

The blow to the head was so severe, his eyes even popped out of his head.
Oh, Snowy, the humanity of it all!

I'd like to tell you that no snowpeople were harmed in the making of this blog entry, but that would be a lie. Because one was. One very special snowperson suffered TSBI (traumatic snow-brain injury) and was never really the same snowperson again...

I did learn a valuable lesson from Snowy, however. It is definitely best NOT to talk about snowpeople in relation to human emotions. Using terms like "bring him to life" and "let's name him Snowy" will only result in 2 year-old lifetime trauma when said "friend" ultimately meets a snowy demise on the corner of your step.

We'll miss you Snowy, but we know you're in a better, colder place in that big snow playground in the sky.