Category Archives: kids

Easter recap

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Oh what a crazy, jam-packed weekend. After two failed attempts to get a picture with the Easter bunny, I finally gave up and tried to convince myself that Scarlett would have just cried anyway. But secretly, I’m still sad about it. (On Friday night, the line was closed, so Dan told the girls that the EB was sleeping. Saturday, the line wrapped around the place twice, so I told them the EB was sick and needed some rest for Sunday. Are we nominees for the bad parent award yet? )

Otherwise the weekend went well … birthday parties, Easter egg coloring and “hatching” (meaning Anabella squishing a hard-boiled egg), hoarding of Easter basket goodies (“MINE!”), and of course, lots of chocolate. Here’s a few photos:



Maybe now Anabella will finally quit asking me to help her make Valentine cards.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving a classic Easter bunny photo from 2006. How cute is she?

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? An Easter basket, of course. (Although she couldn’t squeeze all the way into it.)

Oh no!

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Scarlett’s new favorite saying … and the only response the Comcast Customer Service person could come up with when I canceled my service today.

“Oh no. We hate to lose you as a customer.”

“Oh no. I can’t believe they didn’t offer you the preferred package.”

“Oh no. That’s too bad.”

It’s cute as hell when my 18-month old says it over and over. When the lady on the telephone does it, I want to strangle someone.

My computer has also mysteriously rebooted itself five times since I got to work, and some dude in another office called and gave me an a**chewing because he wasn’t happy with the employee newsletter.

Happy Monday.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving a tiny dose of Monday-morning hostility.

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? A tiny tractor. She’s a bonnet and camouflage-wearing farmer. Oh no.

Me — In Numbers

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Stealing Borrowing an idea from Omar today … he won’t mind and he’s probably not reading this post anyway.

So here is what I have been up to since last Wednesday “by the numbers:”

6 – NCAA basketball games I watched (53 – Number of brackets I need to “grade” tonight for the pool I am participating in)

5 – Bottles of champagne consumed on Sunday for Jéanne’s birthday (I had help!)

4 – Massages I’ve had since last Thursday (I canceled a membership at Massage Envy and was forced to use the stockpile … poor me.)

3 – Trips to Target (and subsequently, to Starbucks … so much for quitting that habit)

2 – Birthday parties attended (One at Jumpin‘ Jungle, but that didn’t include champagne. Unfortunately.)

1 – Number of amazing things Scarlett did at breakfast on Sunday (She was playing with a fork … banging it on the table mainly … then she starts stabbing eggs and eating off of it like she had been doing it for years.) Pictures? Of course!

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving the certainty that Scarlett is, in fact, a gifted child. Stabbing with the fork AND “enrolling.” Go ahead and look that up. I had to.

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

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WTF is up with these “toddler” shoes? Why why WHY would you put a one-inch heel on a shoe for a baby? Poor Scarlett would kill herself in these things. She trips just running around bare-footed. What’s going to happen when I put a 1-1/2 year old in wedges? What’s next, Miracle Bras for the elementary school girls?

I would also like to know WTF is up with the toddler terrorism going on at our house (Anabella!). Besides the general sassiness (“I’m sorry, but I am NOT going night-night!”), we’ve (Anabella!) now taken to evil misdeeds.

Last Saturday morning Dan and Scarlett were napping, and I let Anabella draw with markers under my careful supervision. I got up to use the restroom and when I came back, not only had she drawn all over her arms and legs, but her lips were also colored blue and my ottoman looked like this.


WTF? I was gone for 60 seconds! When I asked her why she did it, she just shrugged. Clearly, this was a premeditated thing.
Toddler mind games … Anabella – 1, Mommy – 0.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving gratitude to Baby Jesus for the invention of washable markers.

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today?

Just fry it

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I took the girls to the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo this week. We’ve been before, but this year Anabella really got it … she asked lots of questions about the animals, had a great time in the petting zoo, and insisted on getting a cowboy hat. A few highlights …

I’ve seen a lot of longhorns in my life, but this dude was HUGE. Seriously. This picture does him no justice.


The birthing center was extremely cool, and of course little kids love baby animals. We saw newborn calves, piglets, goats, chicks, lambs, etc.

The petting zoo was also a big hit, but I couldn’t get any photos. The animals are super aggressive if you go in there with food. A deer tried to eat my hoodie and one a**hole goat kept kicking me in the back of the leg every time I turned away from him. After 10 minutes of fighting off the inmates, all I had left was the ice cream cone the kibble came in. I gave it to Ninja Goat so we could make our escape and for the rest of the afternoon, Anabella kept saying “goats sure do like ice cream.” Ha. I don’t know what’s in the kibble, but the goats will kill you for it.

After the petting zoo, we went to get Anabella some Dipping Dots, but I somehow managed to go without eating any rodeo food. This sign is part of the reason … just the thought of all this stuff gave me premonitions of an evening full of unpleasant BMs.

Why? Why do we need to fry everything? Fries, chicken fingers, pickles … fine. But I draw the line at candy bars and key lime pie. Are we just looking for ways to make things as fattening as they can possibly be? And I am guessing the picture of the Twinkie was taken before they threw him in vat of boiling oil.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving it fried. What is it? Doesn’t matter. It’s fried.

P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? A carousel. But just barely. This thing was supercharged.

Things I’ve learned recently

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1. Even numbered highways go east-west, while the odd ones go north-south.


2. This is a real animal … (I looked it up after one of your Silly Saturdays, NCS!)


3. There’s a little place to hang your gas cap, rather than just letting it dangle.


4. There’s a finger hole in the Saran Wrap box that keeps the roll from coming out.


5. There’s an arrow on a car’s gas gauge that tells you which side the tank is on.

Do you have some strange, obscure or unknown factoid? Comment! I want to know. (But don’t give me any crap about how you can’t believe I didn’t know the stuff above. I can’t be on top of everything, people!)

— The B.S. Cafe is currently serving a thirst for knowledge.


P.S. What’s Scarlett sitting on today? A mini cash register.

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

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This is my 73rd “WTF? Wednesday” post … and amazingly, it’s the first one that is about me. Although I guess it would be kind of sad to be disgusted with your own ridiculousness more than once or twice a year.

So, here’s the story. In an effort to reduce expenses (and lessen frustration), I decided to switch our Internet and TV service to AT&T. They offer several ways to save money, including consolidating services. After taking stock of our current accounts, here is what I discovered … we have a sh*tload of phone numbers.

  1. The home phone
  2. Rhonda personal cell
  3. Dan personal cell
  4. Rhonda business cell
  5. Dan business cell
  6. Rhonda home office phone
  7. Dan home office phone
  8. Rhonda home office fax
  9. Dan home office fax

If you add my business office phone to the list, I have a total of 6 phone numbers and Dan has 5.

WTF is wrong with us? Why do we have so many phones? I can’t even tell you that last time one of us used the damn fax machine. Alexander Graham Bell is probably turning over in his grave.

And the really ridiculous part is that you can probably only reach me 50% of the time regardless of how many phones I have.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving … 867-5309.

P.S. The answer to your most burning question — “What’s Scarlett sitting on today?” — is …

What’s Scarlett sitting on today?

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This is the new version of Where’s Waldo? at our house. What is Scarlett sitting in/on today?

A computer keyboard?


The breakfast table?


A bucket? (how very Anne Geddes of her!)


A basket?


Stay tuned … you never know where she will turn up. Leave a comment and tell me where you think Scarlett will sit next!

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving Blog Post #300. Hard to believe I’ve had that much to say over the past 2-1/2 years!

Cuteness abounds … then retreats

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I have found myself a bit overwhelmed by Anabella lately. One moment she is sweetest, most adorable child ever. The next, I expect her head to do a 360 in some crazy Linda-Blair-style rampage.

Cute stuff
She was very excited about Valentine’s Day, so we spent Friday night slowly going through all the valentines she received in her MDO program. We made valentine cards for everyone in the family on Saturday, and Sunday we spent several hours decorating cookies for a tea party we hosted yesterday for a few of her friends.


Look at those cute little tea cups. And she sweetly poured tea for everyone (including mommy) and made sure their cups stayed filled.

Not-so-cute stuff
At some point, she snuck into my bedroom and squirted toothpaste all over the carpet again. (And no, I hadn’t taken Bee and Kim’s advice and switched to white yet!)

She threw temper tantrums at nap and bedtime every day this weekend … six total, since I had yesterday off. (I can’t tell you how glad I am not to be home for nap time today!)

She also somehow managed to get her hand on some kiddie scissors and decided to give her sister a haircut. Luckily she only trimmed one perfect lock of hair. (Right at the root though! I can only imagine the damage that could have been done.) But I am going to throw it in the baby book and call it “Baby’s first haircut.” That will be a good story for later, right?

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving patience. Lots of patience.

Potty Monkey

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When you become a parent, the days of going into a bathroom alone are pretty much over. And now that Anabella is almost potty trained, she finds the bathroom to be a place where everyone is welcome.

The scene: I’m in the bathroom doing my business, but then the door quickly swings wide open …

Anabella: MOMMY! You’re going POTTY!

Me: Yes, I am. I’ll be out in a minute.

Anabella: (Completely ignoring me) Are you going peepee and poopoo, mommy?

Me: (Completely ignoring Anabella)

Anabella: You’re going peepee and poopoo in the POTTY! You get a prize, mommy!

Me: Umm, okay. Thanks.

Anabella: (very serious face) I have to see it first.

Me: I don’t think that’s necessary. I don’t really need a prize.

Anabella: Are you done? Let me see! Don’t flush, mommy! (practically pushing me off the toilet)

Me: (Feeling like I’ve been transported into the movie Freaky Friday) Okay, you can flush for me. (Head to sink to wash hands and regain self respect.)

Anabella: Good job, mommy. You did it! (pauses) OOOH, STINKY! (flushes toilet)

Me: (Wondering what I did to deserve this.)

Anabella: Come on, mommy! Let’s go get your prize! (Starts to run toward kitchen, but then stops abruptly. Turns to me with another very serious look on her face.) You only get ONE prize, mommy.

And here it is. My prize for not pooping my pants.


So clearly it’s time to reconsider my potty-training tactics. While I would like to believe that Anabella was just being an excited three-year-old child, I think she was actually teaching me a lesson in bathroom dignity for all people, big and small.

But then again, I don’t lie about pooping to get stickers.

— The B.S. Cafe is now serving a healthy portion of role reversal with a side of TP.