"We Are One..."

Two weeks ago, Reese began referring to me as two people. I am now, "Mom and Baby" not just Mommy. I thought it was a phase...but she NEVER drops the ball! A few snippets of typical conversation in the W house:

Aaron: Reese, where's Quincy?
Reese: She's in the kitchen with Mom and Baby.

Quincy: "I want to Hold you lap, Mommy? Pweeease?"
Reese: "Can't you see there's a baby in her lap right now, Quincy? Come here, I guess I'll just hold you."

(EVERY bedtime/naptime) "Goodnight Mommy, Goodnight Baby, I love you Mommy, I love you Baby, Sweet dreams Mommy Sweet Dreams Baby."

"Mommy and Baby, could you fix me a snack?"

"Did you and baby have a nice nap?"

"Are you having another bowl of brownies and ice cream because one is for Brother?"

"Can you and Baby help me buckle my carseat?"

"You guys look good in that blue shirt....well, hmmm... YOU look good. Brother is just growing kind of bigger there."

"Mommy and Baby are taking a shower."

"How will you and Baby drive me and Quincy in the car when you and Baby get so huge out to here?" (reaches arms out as far as possible in front of herself. nice.)

So many things to say...so many questions. Some questions are more graphic than others. Some "compliments" are more of an insult than anything. Leave it to me to have a child that speaks her mind...can't imagine where she got that.

"I Like It. I Love It. I Want Some More Of It..."

Stuff I LOVE:

Kids who help clean.

Daddy's who give horsie rides.

Bows on baby heads

Too-Big "ballerina" shoes that refuse to be taken off.

The ballerina.

More horsie rides and bow heads.

and sleeping beauties.

"Everytime I Think About The Times You Done Me Wrong..."

Ok so my thoughts for my "beautician" aren't exactly murderous, and I don't gots me no "Nine". ...but that Hoochie at the beauty college definiately done me some WRONG.
It's my own fault for going to a beauty school that charges $7 for a haircut. My hair is not easy to please. I am aware of this. I should know better and I should be more kind to my hair so karma will not come around to bite me and stick me with experiences like the one I had on Saturday.

Fact. I needed a haircut.
Fact. Aaron needed a haircut.
Fact. We were kid free.

We thought it would be a fun part of our date to get haircuts together.

I got all excited like you do when you know you are gonna get a haircut and immediately feel better about yourself. Plus, having your hair washed by another is a great feeling. Or at least it WAS a great feeling until Saturday.

So there we sat, side by side, getting his and hers haircuts...no not that kind-where hubby and wifey get MATCHING haircuts? Ew! You ALL know at least one family that does this but let me give you an example:

Bad idea, right? It's wrong and just plain creepy. We opted for His and Hers Haircuts meaning we could sit together and talk. We sat down at the hairwashing stations and the conversation did not go as I had expected. or hoped.

A: (to hairdresser 1 washing his hair-she is dressed professionally, an has a head full of funky jet black cute hair extensions) "So, when do you graduate?"
H1: "Oh! In 11 days! I'm so excited! I've been working extra hours and my grades are so good that they accelerated my program and I get to graduate early."

Meg: (to hairdresser 2-washing my hair-she has orange hair from trying to bleach out the fire engine red she used to sport. It is 1 inch long, grimy, and looks like she just rolled out of bed. she has yesterday's mascara smeared under her eyes and she is wearing sweatpants.) "And when do YOU graduate?"
H2: "Well I started around the same time as H1, but the school has a policy where if you miss so many days and get bad grades or fail haircutting tests you get put on academic restriction."
Meg: "OUCH!"
H2: "yeah, but it's not really my fault, you see my cats..."
Meg: "no, my hair is caught in your rings. COuld you take some of them off while you do my hair, please?"
H2: "Oh it's my fake nails, not the rings, you're untangled now. You should have told me you have such a tender head...anyway I've had a lot of health problems because I need to lose 75 lbs and my body is in shock that I'm dieting now, so I've been really sick. The school postponed my graduation, but hopefully I can get back on track and be done in May or June."

Um. RED FLAG MEG-O.
GET OUT. Get out NOW!

H1 and H2 leave to go get towels, and Aaron and I are alone at the sinks.

Meg: Aaron. Quick. Switch me hairdressers.
A: No way, I like my girl.
Meg: I don't freaking care if you like her! My hair is way more important than yours! Yours will be shaggy and long in 4 weeks and then I can fix any damage. Hurry! They're coming back!
A: Meg relax, your haircuts always look good. We can't just switch hairdressers. People don't do that.

H2: Wow you have really curly hair! This is going to be fun!

I am hypnotized by the compliment that isn't even a compliment and follow her back to the chair. I abort the plan of getting an A-line cut out of pure FEAR, and opt to just have the bottom later trimmed off, because it is an inch longer in the back than in the front. I tell her I want to lose as little length as possible and just want that inch removed, and split ends trimmed up so my hair will all be the same length at the bottom.
My confidence increases as her smile grows when she nods her head, saying "yes. yes." while I describe what I want.
H2: "Oh I know exactly what to do so it will lay nice in the back and you will be able to wear it curly OR straight."

She pulls out the scissors and I watch several 6 inch locks of hair quickly fall to the floor from the back of my head.
Meg: "WHAT. IS. THAT? Did that just come off MY head?!"
H2: "Um, yeah. Your hair is MUCH longer in the back than in the front"
Meg: "but I don't want to lose any of my length and those are really long pieces of hair"
H2: "well the first parts are going to be longer because I'm stacking your hair, and then I'll razor cut it."
Meg: "I HAVE CURLY HAIR! it gets really short when it dries AND it will frizz out if you come near it with a razor AND I want it all one length, not stacked."
H2: "I know that. A TON of girls have been coming in and asking for this hairstyle. I do it all the time, it's going to look great. Don't worry."
Meg: "Wait. What? What hairstyle? Is there a fancy name for having your hair cut all the same length?"
H2: "Well considering your hair type, I'm modifying that and giving you the Victoria Beckham haircut."
Meg: "WHAT?!" His and Her haircuts immediately flash BACK into mind... "Victoria Beckham's hair is like 2 inches LONG?! I don't want to lose any length. Her hair is NOTHING like I described to you."

I put my hand on the back of my head andgasp as I feel the shortest layer that she had cut so far. It was at my ear length and only in the back. Maybe there is still time to save it.

Meg: "This is not what I want. Go get your instructer, please"

Hair instructer arrives and fixes the haircut.

It takes TWO and a HALF HOURS. They kept handing me a mirror and showing me locks of wet curly hair in their hands and asking "hows that?" Like I have any idea what it's going to look like when the rest of my hair is pulled down from the clips next to it. To try to salvage the length she left one layer of hair 3 inches longer than the rest (almost to my shoulders), hanging down along the nape of my neck and she dryed and straightened it- leaving the rest curly. The only words I can think of to describe how my hair looked is a cupcake. The mud flap part was the base of the cupcake and the curly mop of frosting on top. So BAD.

Meg: "Yeah, that layer on the bottom needs to go, it's longer than the rest...especially in the back."
Instructer: "But you don't want to lose any length" then speaking very slowly, like I ride the short bus she says "Ok, but it WILL BE shorter if we cut it off, so don't freak out okay?"

I'm sorry, but at what point in this haircut did I become a difficult client?

Instructer leaves for a minute while H2 cuts the mud flap off.

This is the time when H2 decides to say, "Oh hang on, my nose is running again" then she WIPES HER SNOT ON HER WRIST (scissors still in hand). "Oh I hate that. It's been running all day, drives me crazy. I'm ok now."

Seriously?
Oh No. Uh Uh. No Way.
Yes!
She picks up a comb and runs it along my neck.
I imagine the snot jumping off her fingers and lean out of the way.

Meg: "No. Really. It's ok. I don't mind waiting for you while you go wash your hands."

A: returns from paying for our haircuts."Meg. We've been here for hours. Is this a joke?
Meg: "Ew! Don't even try to talk to me right now. I TOLD you to give me your girl! My girl sucks."
A: "But you've got an instructer now. Why is this taking so long?" hesitates...."Hey why do you have that weird long section in the back?"
Meg: "The instructer sucks too."
H1: comes back from her lunch hour and sees Aaron still sitting in the chair next to mine. "Excuse me, do you want some product in your hair? I'm done with my chores and could style it for you. Let's go take a look at our products and see what will work best for your hair."
Of course she does. His girl rocks. My girl sucks.

The Instructor and the soon-to-be-beauty-school-drop-out return.
More cutting.
More cutting.
More "Hows that?"

Meg: "Actually, I think it's an inch and a half longer on the left than on the right. Do you think you could trim this side up a little bit?"
Instructor: checks watch. "That's because you are sitting with your legs crossed."
Meg: uncrosses legs. Not buying it. "it just feels heavier on this side"
Instructor: "well we could razor cut it"
H2: suddenly all knowing "If you razor her curly hair, won't it damage the hair shaft?"
Aaron returns with even better hair than before and asks the instructor: "Hey, why is it so much longer on the left side?"

She sighs and trims off a QUARTER inch and walks away.

I convinced H2 to let me cut my own bangs, and trim the left side some more.
Then I got to Kasey's and we cut some more. And some more.

Sunday I cut a little more. I think it's going to be ok...aside from the severe angle from the back of my hair to the front that is supposedly in 2 people's mind an "all one length" haircut.

I think Kasey and I did a nice job in the damage control.

I should take a picture of the back, so you can see the layer that is at my nose length. SO sad. At least the front looks good. That's the part I see.
Aaron kept telling me to smile and I tried but just couldn't do it. I tried and tried and ended up with flared nostrils and a sinister glare. Sad.

Question: What do you call a modified Victoria Beckham hair cut that no one asks for?

Mommy Spice.

"Hit Me Baby, One More Time..."

...more like "hit my bladder one more time, or kick my ribs one more time." I had another ultrasound at what we thought was 21 weeks, but lucky for me, baby was measuring at 22 weeks and my due date has been moved up to May 30th!
Horray for that! Baby Willy was pretty wiggly, so it was tough to get a really clear picture, but he's healthy, has 10 tiny fingers and 10 tiny toes (we counted!) and enjoys sucking his hand.
Aren't ultrasounds amazing? To think that this picture was taken with sound waves still boggles my mind. Baby W weighs about 1 lb now. Reese says, "Wow! He looks like a dog!" nice.
a wittle foot. The actual picture (not the scanned copy you are looking at) it is a little more clear
and it is easy to count the individual toes.

For Italy.

And my favorite because it looks like that Uncle Sam Army recruitment poster with the pointing finger...

I want YOU to eat more ice cream.
Will do, Baby. Will do.

"If I Had A Hammer..."

Ok isn't this cute? Too bad Pottery Barn Kids is asking $119.00 for it.
I have a sheet of leftover bead board in my garage.
Total cost of dowels and 1 x 2's = $7.00
I'm going to make my own.
It might not be AS cute, or well crafted, since I don't have a router and my supplies came from Lowe's, instead of White Plains...but for $112.00 less, I can't ask for much. Updates to follow.

and Clovis, New Mexico...I'm gonna need to know who you are, please.

"Ice Is Back With A Brand New Edition..."

Will it evah stop? Yo! I don't know...

Well the Ice Storm started yesterday afternoon, and continued through the night and all day today. It never really rained, or snowed, or hailed...just a big nasty mist that came through and stuck to everything, and icicles formed on everything. So creepy. I feel like I live in an ice sculpture. Here are some pics we took this morning when the girls woke up. (they dressed themselves for a "pajama party ice day"). Everything looks like it was dipped in water, then frozen into a popcicle version of what it used to be, with up to 2 inches of ice cased around every detail. We took these this morning, and it is so much worse now, but it's dark outside so I doubt my pics would turn out.


And if you can't tell from the pictures how much ice is on everything...here is a single blade of grass from the yard. It has so much ice it is as thick around as Aaron's thumb. The whole lawn is now made up of these:
This is a twig off the dogwood out front:

The giant magnolia tree in our backyard is taking the biggest hit, because it still has it's big, flat leaves, so the ice on them is weighing down the branches too much and now they are snapping off. Many of our friends are without power because trees are breaking and knocking out the lines, or the lines are just getting too heavy from the ice on them and snapping from the weight. Luckily, our power lines are fairly free of the trees in the side yard and we've been able to have power all day, aside from a few flickers off then back on again right away. It's supposed to get up to 50 this weekend, so hopefully the power lines will hold out long enough for it to warm up! If not, well we have a fireplace, flashlights, food storage and a dutch oven. Oh, and a giant tent in the living room...
Because this is as close as we can get to caging up our kids.
I got the idea from my friend, Sarah, and the girls loved it! Of course, now that they've gone to bed, the tent is available. Judging by the subconscious condition of the current resident...looks like this is where I'll be bunking in tonight, too.
Can you believe that in 7 1/2 years we've never been camping? I think I've actually slept in a tent maybe 3 or 4 times in my life. Well, I guess camping doesn't get any better than on bug-free, soft carpet in a heated house, (hey, at least we have a "campfire"!) in front of a tv with ice cream and a redbox movie! Oh and bathrooms down the hall are nice too, since baby requires that I get up at least twice a night to empty the bladder he is sitting on. It's really too bad Uncle Greg isn't here...maybe the "camping bear" would come and leave us some candy. I could use me an Almond Joy.

"Oh Doctor Doctor..."

Long Story Coming.

Thursday:
80 year old neighbor Carl (across the street...the Snows Big Red Barn Dance neighbors) somehow (he can't remember what happened, I think it was another stroke) drove his pickup truck off the road at the top of a cliff and rolled it 50 yards down a ravine. Someone saw the wreck and called 911 and he was taken in an ambulance to the hospital. His wife (the lovely Barb) doesn't drive at night, but was naturally hysterical when she heard the news and came over. Aaron wasn't home yet, so we packed up the kids and I drove her to the hospital. As we went back into the ER I realized that we had NO IDEA what kind of mess we were about to see, and I had my kids with me! Luckily, I had my "church bag" (full of toys, markers, etc) with me, so I sat them down against a wall around the corner outside the room and gave them coloring books and markers. (Color Wonder markers are the greatest invention EVER). I went in braced to see blood.

No Carl (sigh.) He was still having Xrays done. I told Barb that Aaron was on his way to the hospital to get the kids and that we would wait in the foyer until he came. She hesitantly let us go.

So for 30 minutes, I let my kids romp around the ER waiting room. I THOUGHT that by bringing them out into the foyer I was protecting them from witnessing a gory scene that could possibly traumatize them forever, but instead I exposed them to all the nasty "less catastrophic" ER cases that were waiting to be seen. Like the kid with the funky rash. The old lady with the ice pack on her arm that swore like a sailor, the vomit in the trash can, and the little girls with croup that ran around the room infecting everything. I wasn't sure which was a better place to be, so we hibernated in the corner at the tiny table and colored until Aaron came to pick them up.

Notice Reese is wearing her "security hood" She keeps her hood up when she is nervous, it's really cute. It started a year ago during thunderstorm season. She would put on a hoodie at bedtime and use the hood to cover her ears to muffle the thunder. Now it has become a habit and she sleeps with a "jacket" every night. I wonder what else I could talk her into doing if I'd just let her wear a hoodie. Hmmm...

After Aaron took the kids, I went back to check on Barb and Carl. This time I wasn't thinking about my kids, and didn't think about the effect the scene would have on me. I was NOT mentally prepared to see the carnage I walked in on. Poor Carl. I'm sure he was under there somewhere. They had not cleaned him up yet. At all. It was pretty gross. Barb was relieved to see me, as she had not been able to work up enough courage to look at him yet. I feel bad for the older generation that hasn't even been exposed to "fake carnage" like we are in movies and shows like Greys or ER. Barb hasn't had that. She made them cover his face with a sheet until she was out in the hall and out of sight. When I returned, I tried to convince her that he needs her, and that she could do this for him. She was pretty shaken up, and not sure if she could. We comprimised and I went in with her and set up chairs at the foot of his bed so she could pat his leg once in awhile and let him know she was there with him. It was sweet to see that he was totally coherent when she would speak to him, even when he was drifting in and out of consciousness when doctors and the trauma team came in the room and attempted to keep a conversation going with him. I saw more than I thought my stomach would be able to handle, but there really is something about looking at a cut up guy on tv (which turns my stomach) and looking at someone you care about all cut up. I felt bad that Barb's shock was keeping her from being able to let HIM see HER face. The healing effect of love is just as important as medicine and stitches.

Anyway, I was given the task of talking to doctors and surgeons and radiologists and then the police officer who reported to the wreck. I felt out of place doing all this, since the first words in my introduction were always "no I'm not his granddaughter, I'm his neighbor" and followed by raised eyebrows and strange looks that said "why are you here" and "I hope this doesn't violate HIPA rights by giving you this information". Barb was grateful though, and I really was happy to help in an otherwise helpless situation. I'm usually ALL about other people's bidness, but this was suprisingly much more difficult, as I knew the "gossip" I had the luxury of passing on, was bad bews, and the eager recipient of the news would be sad. Not a fun job at all.
According to doctors and police, Our friend Carl is lucky to be alive (ahem, wear your seatbelt people) and despide the gash and swelling across his forehead and right eye, his skull is free of fractures. His ribs are in bad shape though. I'm going to try to visit him tomorrow morning when Reese is at preschool group. He's in ICU now and all bandaged up, so it won't be a traumatic sight for Q to take her with me.
So anyway, that's how we spent Thursday night. Hours in the ER holding Barb's hand, giving hugs and letting her cry all she wants while we wait for more information and for her kids to arrive. When they did, I was happy to pass the torch, but even happier to see Barb stand up and walk to the head of Carls bed, arm in arm with her son to take a better look at her companion. I guess some things are easier to do when you have the support of a loved one to guide us through the tough parts. Maybe she was just waiting for him to arrive. At Carl's age, recovery will not be easy, or ever fully complete after a wreck like this. I am grateful for my health and have again been reminded that our lives on Earth are short. It is important that my husband and children know that if they were ever hurt, nothing could tear me away from their bedside if I knew my love could help them heal.

"And It's You When I Look In the Mirror. And It's You When I Don't Pick Up The Phone..."

Our worlds are not so different:

They too, had junk food and room service all weekend.
They too, took Bubble Baths in an enormous tub (with princess soap and bath toys)

(Exhibit A)

They too, had a massage with yummy smelling lotion after their soak in da tub.
They too, had movies and treats in bed

(Exhibit B)

They too, did a little window shopping (and with better transportation, I might add)
And THEY even had their jammies brought to them fresh and warm from the dryer.

I just have to say, life at Kasey's ain't too shabby, girls.

They too, will probably be asking to return to paradise (aka land of no responsibility) within hours of coming home.

"Just Like Heaven"

The cozy little room at the Mt. Victoria B&B in Eureka Springs was calling me.

Beckoning me...

Come, Meg. Come soak in my jacuzzi tub. You have the hip of an old lady right now and desperately need to have some jets and bath salts on it so it will stop popping and locking involuntarily. Notice the crusty trunk next to the tub. I know you want to keep it, but you can't.

Come, enjoy cocoa and lemon poppy seed cake at midnight. No need to whisper and tiptoe here. Your kids are an hour away, and you pretty much have the Inn to yourselves!

Why yes, that IS a tiny picture frame and a chocolate on your pillow. I've placed it there just for you. Would you like a Dr. Pepper? Not tonight? How about a bottled water or Orange Crush? There is a mini frig stocked with more chocolate and beverages of your choice in the private sitting area attached to your suite.
Come snuggle up in the Black and Cream damask/jacquard Waverly bedding and 400 thread count sheets.

Surprise! ...the sheets are leopard print and match the wallpaper that is so over-the-top tacky you totally love it.
Come admire yourself in this crusty 100 year old door-converted into a mirror. You love crusty old doors, and if I do say so myself (and I can, since this Inn was once featured on If Walls Could Talk) You have excellent taste.
Come enjoy freaking good food at Ermilios Italian Restaurant and eat so much pasta that you can no longer button your sweater.

Fresh pineapple, blackberries, grapes, blueberries and orange juice will be waiting for you when you awake. Come enjoy a fabulous breakfast in bed that you don't have to cook, serve, or clean up after. You will be stuffed with fresh from the oven homemade french bread topped with a cheese omelet, and towering atop that, 1/2 of a slow roasted pork tenderloin slices, garnished with capers, fresh basil, and hollandaise sauce. You never knew breakfast could taste so good.

It was NOT too good to be true.

Our stay was cozy, quiet, and FABULOUS.

We were sad to check out. I would LOVE to return to this place in the spring, so we can take advantage of the trees and flowers in bloom, take a trolly ride, enjoy the verandas attached to the suites, and swing on that darling porch swing longer than 5 minutes without FREEZING. It was VERY cold this weekend. Colder than expected.

We went for a walk downtown and admired all the architecture and ducked into nearly every shop that was open, just to warm up. Then we took a drive along historic route 62 and saw lots of this:


Considering where we live, should I really be surprised to see this?
It sort of reminds me of Nortre Dame's Touchdown Jesus...but for the Ozarks. Apparently, in the spring and through the summer, Eureka Springs hosts the annual Great Passion Play at an outdoor theatre on the mountain below the 65 ft statue. It is quite the controversial topic among locals though, because allthough the majority of them are Christians, they disagree with the guy who built it in the 60's, because he also was affiliated with white supremicay groups. (Also not suprising-considering where we live.) It's almost half the height of the statue of liberty. Big.
The Happy Couple. It was great to steal Aaron away for 24 hours. Sometimes we feel like we never see each other for longer than 30 minutes at a time...sometimes less than that on weeknights. Knowing that we'll have a nursing newborn in our house in 4 months, we took advantage of the opportunity to sneak away sans children and had a fun, romantic, relaxing weekend. The kids didn't miss us at all, but we did miss them, and returned with all the goodies and kisses 2 little girls could ask for.

Oh, we also got haircuts together right before we picked up a pizza and headed to Kasey's to greet the kids, and play a little rock band. BAD. HAIRCUT. Not his. mine. That's going to be another post. I did cry in the salon chair...but I think (after another 2 hours and 45 minutes of cutting) everything turned out looking alright.

"I Want To Get Away...I Wanna Flyyyy Away-ay-ay"

Tomorrow's breakfast in bed.

Awarded "Most Romantic Inn in America" and destination for Oprah's Midwest Sweepstakes.
If it's good enough for Oprah, it's good enough for me.

"Let us spoil you each morning with Chris' phenomenal gourmet breakfasts (guests "rave!") delivered to your Suite with private en-Suite dining. Each Suite is also complimented with 24-hour refreshments which offer cold beverages, teas, cocoa, cider and Lisa's baked delicacies. Lisa's super moist chocolate cheesecake cookies, fall-apart orange cake, and chocolate fudge cake (to name a few ) are always available.

When you're ready to soak the day's cares away walk up the tile step to the sunken King Jacuzzi with a froth of soothing bath salts. A French Provincial bed (converted to a Queen) which is triple-sheeted in soft 400-count pressed cotton linens in front of a regal mirror that makes you feel like Princess For A Day.

Just steps away is the second floor Veranda which overlooks the Historic Loop where you can enjoy the soothing sounds of the limestone fountain in the Gardens below as you're lulled by slowly moving ceiling fans above and watch the horse-drawn carriages clip-clop by..."

Too good to be true? We shall see! In the meantime, I got me some packing to do!

Thank you "Auntie Kasey" for adopting my children for a day to make my dead-of-winter dream come true. The jetted tub, homemade fudge, Antique Shops, and ESPN free zone are beckoning me like a moth to da flame. Aaron will graciously be scaling your rooftops next month to help paint the trim on your house, (you know I would be too, if I could!) and I will eternally be stuffing your face with Maria's chips and salsa to repay you for keeping our girlies tonight.

You. Are. The. Greatest.

"Over The Sea And Far Away She's Waiting Like An Iceberg, Waiting For Change..."

Ok, so HOW DO I keep my blog from showing up in Google searches? Unfortunately, Malaysia and England have not returned. I find Malaysia's absence particularly odd since they had previously visited twice a day for some time...only to dissappear on Blurker Day. Yeah...not helping my paranoia at all. I did get a new visitor from Italy today, who happened upon my blog (It's a Boy Post) after typing the words "big" and "penis" into a Google search.

Fo' Realz?!

With all the porn out there on the internet, Google is sending lonely lookers in Italy to ME? And, although I have never been to Italy, I can't believe one would really need to do a Google search on the internet to find what they are looking for.

What. The. Heck.

My gift to YOU, Italy.

Apparently you'd rather see it on the internet than in real life. Blurkers, continue to out yourselves. I do love the comments from friends and family, too. I know you're there, and I'm glad you read and can get a good laugh out of the daily dose of chaos that is prevalent in our home. If you have issues with leaving comments, you can email me at
leggo_my_meg-o@juno.com

"Oceans Apa-art, Day After Da-a-ay, and I Slowly Go Insane..."

hey. YOU. Yeah. You.

This blog will probably be going private soon. I don't like that my blog had 129 visitors yesterday and 2 comments. Thanks to sitemeter I know who was here. I don't need a daily comment,(I don't expect anyone to have anything to say about my kid using flashcards) but if you're a new reader to Megalicious, let me know where you are coming from. (for example: I found your blog via so and so, and ps I think you are very funny and so good looking I can't stay away for more than 24 hours because I long to see your stunning face) Simple, right? I don't care if we know eachother, but I'm pretty sure I don't know ANYone who lives in Malaysia, because I am geographically challenged couldn't pick out Malaysia on a map to save my life. Yet you, (yeah YOU. Malaysia.) keep coming back...along with so many others. So if we go way back, or even if we don't and you are just an admirerer who's live became incredibly awesome the lucky day you stumbled upon my blog. Speak up please. I started this blog to entertain my family and friends, keep in touch, and have a comedic outlet for journaling. My policy is that if you return to a blog more than twice, live in a country I can't spell, or ESPECIALLY if you have me linked in your google reader-for cryin' out loud, I should know. I can't tell you how suprised I was when I decided to to a little investigating this week and found my blog linked on pages I've never heard of, and didn't even recognize any of the other links. So tell me, Big Fans...how did you find me? Are you here because we're friends? Relatives? You are writing an article nominating me for Mother of the Year? Filing a case with CPS and getting all your evidence here?

I'm flattered, I love that I actually have an audience. The narcicist deep inside me (ok, not real deep at all) LOVES my audience, and loves the commentary. (Really, who DOESN'T love comments?) But I like to know who's reading, and also give credit where credit is due. And also, dear Malaysian reader, don't feel picked on. There are like 20 others I am particularly curious about...especially England, who has not returned since my last whistle blowing on da Blurkers, which makes me even MORE paranoid that they really were creepers, and I scared 'em away).

Some of you, like my family, long time friends, siblings, friends who have been following my blog for 3+ years, and cousins...I know you are there. This isn't directed at y'all. But you might want to send me your email address, since I may be taking the blog public for awhile. I'll let you know when. AND I'll take sheena's advice and not come up with a new blog address late at night, or using the names of any Hostess treats.

Why the paranoia?
Remember like 4 years ago when that crazy lady kidnapped the pregnant lady and cut her open and stole her baby? Yeah, that happened the day we brought baby Reese home from the hospital. Now that I'm pregnant, I think about wacko crap like that. You all know what a freak magnet I am...and that I make cute babies. What if Mr. or Mrs. Malaysia is a baby stealer or a pregnant lady 'napper? (um, Malaysia, I'm real sorry if you aren't btw. I doubt you'll be coming back after my accusations today, but with as much time as you've spent on my blog, you've got to be aware by now that I say what's on my mind...and sometimes it hurts. Plus you sort of deserve it you Blurker-from-a-country-I-can't-find and-have-to-use-spell-check-when-I-type.)
So that's what's going on in Meg-o's head tonight. Any comments?

"Mouth Is Alive, All Running Inside, And I'm Hungry Like the Wolf"

Holy Cow. Have you tried this stuff? Awesome Good AND whole wheat? Hands down, Aunt Jemima makes THE BEST mix for whole wheat waffles I have ever had. I've also made whole wheat pancakes, and zucchini applesauce muffins with this mix and they were FAB.
Peanut butter, syrup, powdered sugar, berries and cream, butter... whatever you put on them, they are dang tasty and never disappoint.
Trust me, I know breakfast...

1987: my mom (right) shows up at school on Halloween as Aunt Jemima herself. Of course, this costume would NEVER be socially acceptable today. It probably wasn't ok in '87 either, but whatever, she's awesome. My older siblings were in High School and she showed up there too, just to teach them the valuable lesson that a mother will always go to greater lengths to embarrass her children, than they could possibly embarass themselves. After being chased around by that rolling pin for a day, and pretending not to recognize her, we all learned quick that it just ain't right to go skippin' out on momma's breakfast.

Did YOU Finish Yo' Pancakes?!

"How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?"

Special props to these lovely little ladies:


Dora, Maria, I'm not gonna lie to you. There have been mornings when only you have been there to keep my world turning. I thank you from the bottom of my now-empty stomach.

"A is For Alice, Who Ate An Alligator..."

Got me a laminater last week. I had no idea how much fun I would have with it. Every mothers should have one of these...and anyone who is as OCD as I am should definitely own one of these. I'll be laminating FHE lessons, playdough activity sheets, chore charts, flashcards, and pretty much everything we own all week. It's my new favorite toy.

For Christmas, Reese's preschool teachers gave her the book, "One Mitten", by Katherine O'Connel.
I got a little carried away with the mitten theme and made 52 little mittens out of cardstock, and wrote the letters of the alphabet in upper and lower case on them. Here they are waiting to be laminated. Cute, right?
Now the girls can play a "Mitten Match" version of the memory game. I set up a little clothesline in the living room using yarn strung between two chairs, and after Reese gets a match she got to pin the pair up on the clothesline. I think that next time I will only put out 8-10 pairs to choose from, because it took too long for her patience to work through all 26 alphabet pairs and I wonder if she will remember the letters better if she works with less at a time.
I also went ahead and made a few extra "e's", an extra "m", and a "d" so they can use the little mittens to spell out Reese, Quincy, Mom, Dad, and Baby. I think we'll be using these flashcards a lot in the next year. If I remember, I'll add picks of the clothesline when I upload more pictures.