"Shaving"

Who are these people who create game apps for the iPods and such? They're either total freaks or complete geniuses ...



Amanda: Check out my new app, Shave Me.

Me: Shave Me?

Amanda: Yeah, watch.

She proceeded to put virtual shaving cream on a hairy face, then "shaved" it by rubbing her fingers over the touch screen.

Then to my horror, she rubbed even more, until the "face" started to bleed!!

Amanda: It's okay, because thankfully they came up with this! Tissue to stop the bleeding!!

And sure enough, she covered all the fake blood with fake tissue and was quite satisfied.

Amanda: I also got the app Hair Plucker, Nose Edition!!

Will the fun never end?

iPhone Testimonial

I've never had the "latest and greatest" when it comes to cell phones.

My first cell was a Tracfone. Remember those? You buy prepaid minutes each month, and if you forget to do that ... your service is shut off. Good times.

Then about 2 years later, after my husband purchased the first generation iPhone, I moved up to a flip phone.

I was feeling pretty good about the upgrade ... until texting became more popular than talking.

Yeah ~ texting without a keyboard is about as fun as a pelvic exam with a Russian doctor (you remember that story, don't you?) And to make matters worse, my phone would just shut off in the middle of a text for no apparent reason (other than to drive me completely insane.) That's right, I'd be about 6 words into a reply text (which on a flip phone takes like a half hour) and the phone would turn off. So I'd turn it back on and start the text over. I'd get another 3 or 4 words pecked in, and so help me if it didn't turn off AGAIN - 3 MORE TIMES. By then I would be so disgusted that I'd give up and just reply with: TTYL.

This went on for a couple of years during which time my blood pressure went sky-high. Now at the time I thought the blood pressure thing was due to stress at work (okay, and maybe lack of exercise), but now that I look back ... I'm pretty sure it was because of my stressful texting situation!!!

Okay, fast forward to Christmas 2011, and my husband starts talking about how after 4 years, it's high time he upgrades to the iPhone 4S. I agreed, wishing I too could upgrade to something with a keyboard at least, but because I knew he was already well aware of my texting torment, I said nothing else.

Then this last Friday (January 20, 2012 if you'd like to write it down) it happened. He told me he was going to upgrade his phone and trade mine in for something a little better too.

And he did not disappoint.

I am now the proud owner of an iPhone!!

It's been 7 days and I'm still in shock.

I'm telling you, my life has completely changed since acquiring this magnificent bit of technology!!!

For instance ...

A cough that had been lingering for a week with no other symptoms has completely left my person. Now my husband might try to tell you that it's because we finally had some measurable rain over the weekend, which cleared the crud out of our valley's air, making it easier to breathe, but I say "NO! IT'S THE iPHONE!!"

I also lost 3 pounds! Oh sure, you could correlate that to water weight and the end of my "cycle", but again I say "NO! IT'S THE iPHONE!!"

Now I know this may sound a little over the top to some, but when something this big happens to you, you know your life will never be the same. Kinda' like when your first child is born. You know how all you want to do for hours on end is just hold them and stare at them? Yeah, that's exactly what getting a new iPhone is like. I'm not even kidding.

Assistance

Before walking over to kid's church on Sundays, Megan usually stops by the music department's breakfast bar and fills a plate with donut holes or some such healthy fare. This past Sunday was no different.

As we were walking ...








(photo from here)

Megan passing her plate to me: Here Mom.

Me: It's empty.

Megan: I know.

Me: There's a trash can right over there.

Megan: Yeah, but I want YOU to hold it.

Me: And why is that?

Megan: Because you're my personal assistant.

Me: Oh really? And what else do I get to do besides hold your empty plate?

Megan: You get to lick it.

Me: I get to lick the crumbs off your plate?

Megan: Mmm hmm.

Fantastic.

Common Sense Anyone?

Amanda and Megan were at it again. They never seem to run out of things to fight about.

This fight culminated with Amanda slamming a door shut with Megan at her heels. The result was Megan getting her nose smashed.

When Megan came crying to me ...

Megan: Amanda slammed the door on my nose!!

Me already completely fed up with their bickering: I'm sorry that happened, Megan, but I have a hard time feeling sorry for you when you get hurt while fighting with your sister.

When Amanda shows up on the scene ...

Me: You shouldn't have slammed the door. You hurt your sister's nose when you did that.

Amanda: You've never told me not to slam doors.

Me: Yes I have.

Amanda: No you haven't.

Me: YES, I HAVE. And why would I have to tell you that anyway?

Amanda shrugs: I don't know.

Me: Well if you didn't hear me before, I'm telling you now: DON'T SLAM DOORS.

Amanda: Fine.

Me: Fine.

So apparently I must instruct Amanda on everything ... even common sense.

Imperfections

During dinner I noticed Amanda studying my face ...


















Me: What?

Amanda: There's a bump on the side of your mouth and there's a hair growing out of it.

Me: Oh, yeah. I try to pull those out, but sometimes I miss 'em.

Amanda: What is that bump anyway?

Me: It's like a mole (but with a blond {almost invisible} hair growing out of it! Am I like officially old and icky, or what?!)

Amanda: That's not a mole. It looks like a pimple.

Boy, this just gets better and better! My self-esteem was through the ROOF by this time.

Me: I assure you it is NOT a pimple.

Right about then, Henry offers me some tweezers to pluck the {apparently} offensive hair.

After pulling it out {yes, at the dinner table, because I'm classy like that}...

Amanda: Could you pull that bump off with the tweezers too?

Me: Uh, NO!?

Seriously?! What's next? Asking if I can suck my fat out with a straw?

Drawing the Line. Sort of.

My girls are still a little young to enjoy a Sunday sermon. Sunday school is fine, but "big church" with mom? Not so much.

I'm guessing my girls aren't the only ones, because the greeters at the doors always seem to have a ready supply of kids activity sheets on hand.

Last Sunday as we were getting ready to leave the house ...

Megan: Can I knit during church?

Me: No.

Megan: Why not?

Me: Because that would be rude.

Megan: Okay, then can I bring my iPod?

Me: No.

Megan: Why?

Me: Again - RUDE. You should be listening to the pastor while he's giving the message, not knitting or playing games on your iPod.

Megan: You let me do those activity sheets.

Me: Yes, well ...

Megan: Can I just bring my dot-to-dot book then?

Me: Fine.

There's an App for That

Ever since the girls received their iPods for Christmas, it seems like all I hear about are apps, apps and MORE APPS!! Because you know there's an app for just about everything.

Amanda: Mom, when you were a kid, did you ever have the urge to unroll a roll of toilet paper?

Me: Unroll it?

Amanda: Yeah, like all the way. Really fast?

Me: If I did, I don't remember.

Amanda: Guess what?! There's an App for that!!

Well of course there is.

8 Year Old's Definition of: Everyone

The school's library book drop is in my office.

The other day Megan came in carrying a book ...

Megan: My teacher told me to put this in the library basket.

Me: Well ... go ahead.

Megan: Everyone's talking about the red bump on my face.

Me: Let me see. There's hardly anything there, look.

I handed her a mirror.


Megan: Hmmm.

Me: See?

Megan: It's big.

Me: No it isn't. But would you like a dab of make-up anyway?

Megan: Yes please.

Me: Who all was talking about it?

Megan: Well, Carston mentioned it, then I asked Brynlee and Abbie if they could see it and they BOTH said they COULD.


So apparently when you're 8, "Everyone" = 3 (2 of which are solicited.)

Holy Mother of Pearl!

Combing out Amanda's hair is NEVER fun. Tangles GALORE!

As the girls were getting ready for school one morning, and I was combing out Amanda's hair, the comb caught a knot which resulted in ...

Amanda: Holy Mother of PEARL!!!

I paused to not only let her catch her breath, but to try and register what she'd just said. But before I could comment ...

Megan turned around so her behind was directed at us, and then while bobbing up and down with her knees bent, and rubbing her hands on her bottom, she yells: FIRE ON THE POOP-DECK!!

Me: What in the WORLD are you two saying?!

They laughed and laughed and laughed at their inside joke. Then finally had mercy and let me in on their odd word exchange.

Yeah. I should have known they were reciting a scene from Sponge Bob Square Pants.

Salad Aftermath

The other night I had salad for dinner. As I've mentioned before, Megan detests the smell of my salads. And we're not talking egg-salad, but just the kind with lettuce, tomatoes, and such. It's not enough for her to sit at the opposite side of the table ... she has to clip her nose shut as well. Whatever.

After dinner, the girls bathed and then it was my task to comb out their hair. While I was doing that ...

Megan: Mom, did you just fart?

Me: No, why?

Megan: Because it smelled like one of yours.

Me: Oh really? And just what do mine smell like?

Megan: SALAD!!

Naturally.

In the Name of Love

Our nephew Nate married his high school sweetheart Kelsey last weekend. It was a wonderful celebration of love and friendship!

While we were at the reception ...

Megan: Why does the girl have to change her last name to the boy's?

Me: That's just how it's done.

Megan: Well I don't wanna' do that.

Me: Seriously? You'd rather keep the last name Grimmius?!

Megan: Oh yeah ... no.

Didn't think so.

A Day in the Life of Megan's Doll

What do you suppose she did to deserve this?

























I don't think my girls know about voodoo dolls ... but if they do, I'll bet this one is named Amanda.

Totally Worth It

For MONTHS leading up to Christmas, all the girls talked about was how they each were hoping for an iPod Touch. We explained that if we were able to swing it, they likely wouldn't get any other gifts from us. They assured us that would be a-okay. Well, sort of ...

Amanda: But we'll still get stuff in our stockings, right?


Me: Probably.


Megan: And Santa will still bring us gifts, right?


Seriously?! Last year they stop believing in Santa, but now that gifts are on the line, he's back in their lives? Great.

Me: I guess we'll have to wait and see.


Well, thanks to Target, we were able to purchase the iPods, and receive $80 in store gift cards to purchase what we needed to from Santa! Pretty cool, I'd say.

But what's even MORE cool than THAT?!

LEVERAGE!!


That's right. One of the girls {I won't say which one} lost her iPod privileges for an evening as punishment for defiance, and she cried more over that, than any spanking she's ever received.

Merry Christmas to ME!

From Girls to Juniors

Life was so much simpler when we could do all of our shopping in the "Girls 7-16" clothing department. But alas, those days are over for Amanda.

The biggest bummer? The price.

We went to buy a set of pajamas for Amanda a few weeks ago, and out of habit went to the girls section in Target. A set (that would be top AND bottoms) was only $16. We then walked over to the juniors department and saw that the pants were $15 and the top was $15. Nice.

So we bought the set for $30. Grrrr.

Later that day ...

Amanda: Can you believe how expensive those pajamas were?

Me: I know.

Amanda: I mean who would spend $15 on pants and another $15 on a top?

Me: Uh ...

Amanda: Oh yeah. Us.

Cootie Patooties

My girls' classrooms are in a 2 story school building.

One afternoon before Christmas break, they were chatting in my office ...

Amanda: If you're going down stairs, Megan, DON'T TOUCH THE HAND RAIL.

Megan: Why?

Amanda: Because the boys were sliding down it earlier.

Megan: Ewww!! You mean the hand rail has Boy Butt on it?

Amanda: Yep.


Doesn't get much worse than Boy Butt.
Am I right, or am I right?

B.S.

Our girls have been blessed with amazing babysitters over the years.

Last week we called upon Miss Brittany Salley.

Now Britt will be the first to make fun of her initials. That's right, she's lived over 20 years with the initials "B.S." and is totally cool with it.

Before she came over, I took the girls to Target to spend those Christmas gift cards that were burning holes in their pockets, and Megan chose to purchase the Dippin' Dots dessert maker.

Okay ... why I allowed Megan to buy this, I'll never know. The toys I like are the ones that don't need adult supervision. This one not only requires that an adult be present, but the adult practically has to perform every stinkin' step. And even then, we ended up with 2 major spills before successfully filling one lousy tray of dumb dots.

When 3 cups of dots were finally finished, I saw Megan labeling them.

One was labeled MEG. Another was labeled MOM. And yet another was labeled B.S.

I was pretty sure what she meant by "B.S." (Yes, I'm referring to "Brittany Salley", not the more {unfortunately} popular B.S.), but I decided to ask anyway.

Me: So who is 'B.S.' ... Brittany Salley?

Megan rolling her eyes: Uh, no. Baby Sitter.

Of course.

Fasting

Our church is doing a 3-day fast. Last year I fasted from sweets and thought I was going to DIE. This year I'm only consuming water, and it's a little harder than skipping the sugar I gotta' say.

While driving in the car, I asked the girls if they might want to participate, giving examples of things they could fast from ... sweets? TV? Fighting with each other??? (okay, I didn't mention that last one, but how great would THAT be?!)

Needless to say, they had lots of questions ...

Amanda: Skip eating?! Mom, do you have any idea how hungry I get?

Me: I know, but each time you feel the need to eat, you pray instead.

Amanda: Mom. I'm hungry ALL THE TIME.

Me: Then that would be a lot of praying, wouldn't it?

Megan: Wait. Are you allowed to pee when you fast?

Me: Yes. Peeing is allowed.

Hey, at least we're talking about it.

UGGs

Megan is OBSESSED with UGG boots.

We cannot go anywhere that she doesn't point out every child she sees wearing them.

While she knows my stance on the subject (mom can't justify spending $150 on a pair of boots for a child who has destroyed every boot she's ever worn to date ... not to mention the fact that she would grow out of them before the following winter), she still feels that if she points out ALL the young girls wearing them, that eventually I'll crack.

Wrong.

Last week it happened again. We were out somewhere when Megan said, "Mom, look!! That girl has UGGs!"

Just when I was ready to scream, For the love of all that is good and holy, if your own MOTHER doesn't own a pair of UGGs, YOU certainly aren't going to get a pair!! Amanda, saw my distress, and pulled me aside ...

Amanda: Mom, I know why they're called UGGs.

Me: Why?

Amanda: Because when parents see how much they cost they yell 'UGH'!!

Finally. Someone gets it.