How does she know that?

One of Britt's stocking stuffers was a set of animal pictures for her Viewmaster. She popped one in, took a look and said, "Ooh! A puma!"

How the hell does she know what a puma is?

While I was getting ready to go Christmas shopping, we were looking through sale papers together when she pointed at a picture and correctly identified a telescope.

When we were getting into the car, she pointed up to the sky and said, "Look! Seagulls!" Sure enough, we occasionally do see seagulls around here, presumably because of the nearby lake.

Tonight I played catch with her; she used her fuzzy pink purse as a baseball "gwub" and, when she was throwing to me, she'd swing her arm around like she was winding up for a pitch.

We were watching Tom & Jerry flying to Mars when they passed through an asteroid field. Britt pointed and yelled, "Meteors!" While technically incorrect, it was close enough that I was impressed.

Say what you will about kids watching too much TV, none of this stuff has been covered in any of the books I've read to her, and none of it is stuff I would have thought to teach her yet. I don't know how else she would have picked it up.

She's just astounding us left and right lately.

Is it...? Is it over yet?

It is? Oh, good. Me and Christmas don't always get along that well.

This year wasn't too bad, though. I had my own car and got to do my own shopping. Plus I wasn't wracked by depression, which helped a lot.

Anyway, guess what?

Mama's got a brand new bag!

And new mixing bowls!

Also, some lovely new glassware, because Mikey carries all our glasses off to the store with his morning Coke fix and they never come back; these are not allowed to leave the house.

And a crock pot, finally. Mikey's not thrilled about that because he thinks he's gonna be eating overcooked goop from now on, but I'm totally excited about a whole new world of easy cooking possibilities. Because if there's one thing I hate worse than Christmas, it's cooking.

Plus, I got this so I can play with this (because it's not Mac-compatible).

Britt had a great Christmas. Or five. By the time she opened her gifts from us on Christmas morning, she was kind of burned out on the whole thing; she wandered off in the middle of it to play with her Play-Dough. Her mother brought a bunch of stuff over on Friday, her other grandpa's package arrived on Saturday, and we saw her dad on Sunday, so by Tuesday the seemingly endless flood of gifts was kind of like, eh, whatever.

Now we just need a bigger house to hold all her stuff.

So damn crafty

Hey! Looky what I did:



Britt's preschool is having a Christmas party tomorrow, so I had to sign up to bring something. Napkins and plastic forks were already spoken for, dammit, so I'm bringing something I made with my own two hands to show everybody up.

Can you tell what they are? Don't laugh now. You try sitting down with a bag of Lifesavers and see what you can make out of 'em. From left to right, there's a candy cane, a Christmas tree, a bunch of grapes (I said don't laugh), a wreath, a Christmas stocking, and a cross (it is a Christian preschool, you know).

Yes, I know the cross looks like C3PO and R2D2 had a bastard child. Shut up.

My Little Cupcake

We went to the Christmas Cupcake Party at the zoo last Saturday, where Britt got to decorate her own cupcake.



There was a little technical difficulty,



but she finally got it done to her satisfaction,



and then she ate it.



And it was good!



There were also Christmas crafts, which were a little too old for her, so she mostly just cut up paper.



And then, chinchilla time! Britt asserted her way into the front row



so she could be first to pet it.



And then



it was time to meet The Man:



How sweet is this?

A bloody fright

So, last Tuesday, Britt came home after school and we were puttering around the house until it was time to go to a(nother) classmate's birthday party.

I was in the living room when I heard the thump.

Britt came in wailing hysterically, so I scooped her up and checked her over for blood or broken bones but couldn't see anything wrong. I asked what was hurt and she indicated her bottom, so I sat and rocked her until the crying subsided and she hopped off to go play.

And then I saw the blood all over my shirt.

Obviously, my injury-checking skills suck. I had checked all over her front, but not her back, and that's why I missed the fact that blood was gushing out of the back of her head. I wiped some of it off to find where it was coming from, which turned out to be a gnarly one-inch gash. And then I flipped smooth out very quietly so I wouldn't scare her.

Before heading off to the minor emergency clinic, I asked her to show me what she hit her head on. You know where our entry hall takes a right-hand turn into the living room? Well, the wooden wainscot forms a pretty sharp corner there and, through some combination of stocking feet, glazed tile floor and careening about like a hyperactive monkey, she apparently managed to fall backward against it.

So we went to the clinic and she was very brave. The doctor put a topical anesthetic on it first, then cleaned out the wound before putting four staples in it (instead of stitches so he wouldn't have to cut any hair), and she didn't even whimper until the last staple was going in.

She got her staples removed this afternoon. When Mikey came home from work, she ran to the door yelling, "Poppa! Poppa! I got my simples out!"

That's my hard-headed girl.

Staples, Santa, and Slickery Shit

I've neglected the blog something awful lately while spending all my computer time on GoodReads -- but I get a lot more love over there than I do here, so what do you expect? Jeez!

Anyway, we're in the midst of an ice storm right now and the worst power outage in state history but, by some miracle, we're warm and toasty here at the ranch. The trees aren't doing so well, though:



The branch on the upper left was hanging ominously over my car, so Bridgie helped me chip ice off the door until we got it open, and then directed me (since I couldn't see a damn thing) while I backed down to the street and then pulled in to the other side of the driveway. A good thing, too, since that branch is now lying in my former parking space and I could be minus a windshield right now.

Also, the big branch on the right has broken off and is lying on the ground. At this rate, that big beautiful tree won't be much more than a stump by the time things thaw out.

The back yard is a winter wonderland, though,



except that my poor crepe myrtles are nearly prostrate.



Anyway, enough of that. I'm getting a chill.

I haven't told you about the staples yet, which is a horror story involving lots of blood, but that deserves a post of its own. I'll try to get to it tomorrow.

Also, I still have to tell you about this:

Wearable Art

Mikey finally succumbed to Britt's incessant pleas for some markers of her very own. Thankfully, they're washable markers because:



Now I get free mani-pedis and the occasional henna tattoo:



Oh, wait -- are henna tattoos red or brown? Well, no matter. I've got red and brown. And yellow!

*****

Little Miss Sticky Fingers got hold of my camera, which is why this shot has such a lovely soft focus:



The lens is clean now, but the outer protective shutter keeps sticking shut no matter what I do. Shit, hell and damn on that.

Britt's school pictures

We only have proofs right now so the image quality is awful, but here's a sneak peek:







We're trying to decide which how many of which poses to order, because they're frickin' expensive! And they make you order a whole package of one pose before you can order any individual sheets. Fuckers.

Britt has a boyfriend

He's a cute little kid with spiky blond hair. His name is Xavier.

Miss Millie told me that when Xavier drags his feet about going to school in the morning, his mother reminds him that Brittany will be there, and then he can't get to school fast enough.

*****

Britt has a strange new habit lately. She sticks her finger in her ear and pulls it out with a little *pop* sound and then she, well, um, she sniffs it.

I know kids do all kinds of weird things, but I've never heard of earwax-huffing before. Does earwax even have a smell? Hold on...

Oh, never mind, I can't tell. All I smell is hand lotion.

I guess there are worse orifices she could be poking and sniffing, so I probably shouldn't worry about it. It's just that it seems so, you know, odd.

Oddments

The cat escaped the other day. He always tries to, whenever the front door is opened, so he can go outside and munch on grass. Whenever he does manage to get out, we always go and chase him down and bring him back in, against our better judgment.

But Britt let him out the other day when we came home from school and I made a couple of half-hearted attempts to catch him but he kept running under my car and I wasn't about to go crawling under there after him, so I said fuck it and went back inside. Later I went out a couple of times to see if he was anywhere handy but I didn't see him, so I thought, Cool! He's gone! And it's not my fault!

So I mentioned it to Bridget when she got home from work and, of course, she went right out and found him. And brought him back inside.

I still haven't quite forgiven her for that.

*****

Britt's school is having a Christmas program next month. and I guess they're already working on their songs because she's been singing Jingle Bells around the house lately.

Another song she likes to sing is the theme song to her (current) favorite cartoon:

Bye-Bye the Saiwor Man
Poop! Poop!
Bye-Bye the Saiwor Man
Poop! Poop!...

*****

When I pick up Britt from school, I always cut through the subdivision next to it to avoid a busy intersection. Today I was following that route when I stopped at a stop sign and had to wait while a bowling ball slowly rolled down the cross street from left to right. I looked around but couldn't see anyone or anything to explain this strange phenomenon, so I'm left wondering, WTF?

Princess Brittany went to the ball

Not really. It was a classmate's birthday party.

Target didn't have any costumes left at all, but I found a deep-discounted Cinderella outfit at Party Galaxy. And a pair of "glass" slippers. The tiara was from Britt's first birthday party, and I spent thirty minutes yesterday afternoon digging two-year-old frosting out of all its tiny little crevices with a toothpick.



At the party, she wore her tiara backwards for a while, because she's cool like that.



The girls made princess wands and then Britt took a turn at "Pin the Kiss on the Frog,"



and she barely tapped whacked the pinata a couple of times.



Then there was cake and gift opening. She was not happy that she didn't get to unwrap the gift we brought.

We took group photos of the five little princesses (and some bratty little boys),



and then we split, before Grammy turned into a pumpkin.

Halloween(ed Out)

Yesterday was the costume parade at school, where the kids were led through the halls to collect candy from church ladies stationed along the route:



Britt looks really excited, doesn't she? The gypsy holding her hand is her teacher, Miss Millie.

I think she's getting burned out on the costume thing since she balked for a minute about putting it on tonight for the third time, until she remembered that it would get her more candy.



She watched some other trick-or-treaters work the cul-de-sac while Poppa changed his socks:



And she flitted around a bit, you know, like ladybugs do:



Then she flopped down on the ground



and handed me her wings.



Then she rolled around on the grass,



just enjoying nature. Or something. You know, like ladybugs do.

And then she did some actual trick-or-treating:



We covered about three blocks and she was really good about saying "Trick-or-treat!" and "Thank you," but I had to keep reminding her to only push each doorbell once. She likes to ring ours every time she comes through the front door. A lot.

After we got home, Mikey took her to see Gigi and his folks to collect more candy, and her wings and antennae got lost somewhere along the way. When they came back, Britt shrieked, "My wings! My...my...my..." and then she waved her hand around her head because she doesn't know the word "antennae." It was cute. Maybe you had to be there.

Anyway, yay! Halloween is over and now I can chill, except that tomorrow night we go to the first birthday party outside the family that Britt's ever been invited to. And, of course, it's a princess party and all the girls are supposed to dress "princessy" and Britt doesn't have a princess costume. She could go as a ladybug princess, but now she doesn't have any wings or antennae.

(***sigh***)

So I'll be keeping an eye peeled for marked-down princess costumes when I go shopping for a birthday gift tomorrow. Wish me luck on that.

Ladybug, Ladybug

Britt's school had a trick or treat party yesterday, so she got to wear her Halloween costume for the first time.

She's finally reached the age of goofy smiles; I have three different shots of her grinning just like this:



After the party, we toasted her good fortune at raking in a pumpkin-ful of goodies,



and then she kicked back with Poppa to enjoy some of her loot.

Little Rhinestone Drummer Cowgirl

The hat that came with Bridgie's Halloween costume was too small for her so she gave it to Britt.

Britt scrounged up a mis-matched pair of boots, plunked the hat on her head and demanded that I bring her horse around, pronto! Then she went off riding the range:



C'mon, Britt, gimme a big smile!



Um, okay, never mind.

Later, she set up her drum kit (she calls them her bam-bams)



and played her little heart out.



(Okay, this is where I would've posted an MP3 of "Wipeout" if I knew how to do that and I would've told you to click here to listen to a sample of Britt's drumming ability and you would've clicked on it and maybe smiled a little bit, but since I don't know how to post an MP3 to my blog, you'll just have to imagine that part. Sorry.)

Mom's 15 minutes of fame

Phil sent me a picture of the billboard:



Dang, that's a horrible picture; she looks like she's in pain.

She traded in the Corvette for this sporty little number (and a pocketful of cash):





Phil was supposed to bring her down to see me tomorrow, but she called and cancelled this morning. I'm bummed.

Phil's bummed because he never got to drive the 'Vette.

I've died and gone to heaven

Mikey and Britt went shopping this evening. One of their purchases was an almost-Halloween cupcake cake.



Britt and I enjoyed some almost-Halloween-cupcakey goodness together,



and then



she shot me.

Bad kitty

Remember a few months ago when the cat started using our bed for a litter box? Well, we finally managed to break him of that, but now he's taken a fancy to Bridgie's bed.

She came home a wee bit tipsy and went straight to bed after spending Saturday night out with friends. She woke up Sunday morning reeking of cat piss because she'd rolled around all night in a wet spot.

I snickered as I handed her a rag and a can of upholstery cleaner. I mean, better her bed than mine, right? Anyway, I thought it was pretty funny.

Until last night, when I climbed into bed and my legs landed in something cold and clammy.

The little sumbitch pulled a two-fer this weekend.

The only reason he's still here is because Britt calls him "my baby kitty" and "my friend," but he's down to his ninth life now.

Britt-isms

Britt speaks pretty clearly now, although her syntax is a little off sometimes. For example, when she wants me to open a door she says, "Put the door out!"

She's confused about pronouns at the moment -- a girl is a he and a boy is a she -- so she says things like, "Where Poppa at? I want her!"

She's still not pooping in the potty, either at home or at school, but her teachers are working with her on that. Apparently, when she goes to the potty there, they tell her to "push it out." At home she insists on keeping me and Bridgie company when we're in the bathroom, encouraging us in her piping little voice, "C'mon, smash it out!"

When I have to speak sternly to her, she'll go, "Don't say to me. It's not nice!"

Riding home from school yesterday, she asked hopefully, "Go buy-buy some toys?" Then she repeatedly crowed, "I want some toys!"

And then, in case I hadn't heard and/or understood her the first eight times, she said it once more, very slowly and deliberately, "I! WANTS! UM! TOYS!"

I almost drove right off the road.

Ballet school dropout

Well, I guess it's over.

I was dreading today, after what happened last Friday. I tried to talk to Britt about it several times, but her only response was to shriek, "No! No dance cwass!"

I don't know what happened. She seemed like she enjoyed the first three weeks so much, and then last week she totally lost her shit. And today, when I brought out her leotard and tights to get her ready to go, she just went to pieces. So we didn't go.

I'll have to call next week and tell them she won't be back. At least, not this year. It's supposed to be fun, after all, and if she's not having fun then there's no point.

I am a little disappointed, but mostly I'm bewildered because I can't figure out why she loved it one week and hated it the next. It's so weird.

Maybe it's just because she's three.

(***shrug***)

Beats the hell outta me.

Squee! It's here!

Last week I ordered Britt the cutest damn Halloween costume ever! Mikey and Bridgie will be relieved to know it's finally here since I've been relentless about keeping them updated on its progress via UPS tracking.

I can't wait to see it on her, but once she sees it she's gonna want to wear it every minute of every day; we already have to spell the word "costume" around her. I think I'll wait until everybody gets home tonight so we can all admire her in it, and then I'll have to stash it away so it'll be out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

She'll actually get some wear out of this one because there's a trick-or-treat party at school on the Saturday before Halloween, and then a costume parade at school on Tuesday since they're closed on Wednesday. And, of course, we'll take her trick-or-treating Wednesday night. After that, she can use it to play dress-up all she wants.

I bet you're just dying to know what her costume is, aren't you? Oh, you're not? Well, that's good because all I'm saying is that it's red and black and it has, um, accessories.

Back to the Punkin Patch

We had such a good time at Chester's last year that we had to do it again.

At the petting zoo, Britt fed this cute little llama



and the goats.



She was very popular with the goats



and the sheep,



but not so much with the ducks that were running loose. Because Britt went running after them.



But they were faster.

And then, PONY RIDES!!!



Actually, we got off easy this year. She was content with only three rides instead of 67.

Then it was time to pick out her little punkin.



This is my little punkin:



When it was time to go, she shook hands with Willie



and then found some more punkins she wanted to take home.



She's not a big fan of the "just one punkin" rule.



After we got home she started hollering, "Cut it, Poppa! Cut it!"



And so he did.