This Girl is the Fave!

Makayla has started saying this new, hilarious thing. I thought it might be a passing phase, but she's been saying it for over a month now. I want to write it down so I don't forget it when she stops saying it.

She substitutes the word "fave" (as in favorite) for the word "best." So instead of saying "This is the best," she will say "This is the fave."

This morning she wanted to color a picture. She pulled out her new Princess activity book (Thanks Aunt Lizzie! She loves it!) She flipped to some random page and exclaimed, "Oh Mom! I have to color this page. It's the fave in the whole book!"

It cracks me up every time she says it. I know I should probably correct her, but it's so hilarious!

Complaining About My Living Arrangements. What Else Is New?

I have new neighbors. Again. Such is the way of apartment living, I guess.

These new neighbors smoke. I don't have anything against people who smoke. I do, however, have a problem with people whose smoking habit intrudes upon my right not to smoke.

The cigarette smoke smell is sifting down into my apartment making everything reek.

It's especially bad in my bathroom. So bad, in fact, that I have to hold my breath while I'm peeing so that I don't puke at the same time.

I think I'll be looking for a new apartment in the morning. They are pretty hard to come by in this town so wish me luck!

My All-Time Favorite Sandwich Shop

When I lived in Minnesota a few years ago, I discovered this little whole-in-the-wall sandwich place. It was called Milio's. I think I tried it one day because I got a coupon in the mail or something. Driving by, it's not a place that I would pick out, especially with Subway (a more well-known sandwich store to me) around the corner. One bite and I was in sandwich heaven!


My favorite sandwich was #12 The Californian. The bread was crispy on the outside, soft on the inside. The turkey was shaved, not sliced. The tomatoes were the perfect amount of ripened. They almost tasted home-grown. The lettuce was not at all wilty. Double Provolone cheese-yummy! The mayo was Hellman's not some random mystery restaurant mayo. Top it with guacamole and alfalfa sprouts--the perfect combination to finish off this delicious sandwich. Mmmm!


I would kill for one of those sandwiches right now! Unfortunately, the closest Milio's to where I live is over 750 miles away. *sigh*


I'd be willing to make the drive if only gas wasn't nearing $4 per gallon. I guess I'll just have to close my eyes and eat Milio's in my dreams.

No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed

Ellie came up to me this morning and asked, "Can I jump, jump, jump on the bed?"

I laughed, a little incredulously, and said, "No! We don't jump on mama's bed."

Then she broke out this face.

Which is the I'm-so-cute-and-I'm-saying-please-so-surely-you-will-give-me-everything-I-want face.

I said "no" again which immediately caused this face and a little tantrum on my bedroom floor.

Ah, motherhood--ain't it great!

Life Lesson #358

Never laugh at other people's misfortunes because eventually those misfortunes become your own.

Three examples from my life to support this:

1. When I was a sophomore in high school, I became friends with this boy that I sat next to in Chemistry. One day he wasn't in class. I found out it was because he was in the hospital for an appendectomy. I went to visit him the next afternoon when I got out of school. He was walking around the hall when I saw him. I totally made fun of the way he was walking--hunched over, clinging to his IV pole, feet shuffling slowly along the cold hospital floor. Big mistake. Why? I ended up in the hospital the next week with appendicitis and had to have an appendectomy myself. And I walked just like he had that day I saw him.

2. Not too long ago, a friend posted on her blog about her little girl learning to climb out of her crib. I laughed and laughed and thought to myself, "Poor girl! That must suck!" A few days ago I laid down to take a nap while Ellie was sleeping. A little while later, I was awakened by Ellie slapping me in the face and giggling. I asked Makayla if she had helped Ellie out of her crib. Makayla said, "Nope. I just watched her climb out." Great! That's loads of fun for me now.

3. Also not too long ago, I wrote about Makayla's friend who asked a million questions that drove me crazy. I was so glad that Makayla wasn't like that. But it seems like the day she turned 4 the questions started, and they haven't stopped since. I think I'm going to lose my mind. Ugh! The questions!!

Some people call this karma, but I call it God trying to humble me. So far, it's working!

They Aren't Twins That's For Sure

I've had 18 months to look at my girls together, and I still can't believe how different they look!

Plus, when did Makayla's hair turn so dark? I could have sworn that it was blond yesterday.

Bathroom Woes

-Update- I can't believe that so few of you wear nylons. My legs are way too white to ever get away with that!

I hate using the restroom at church. Not because of the germ factor, but because of what I'm wearing.

On any given Sunday, I can be found at church in a skirt and shirt with a slip, nylons, and high heels. The nylon issue alone is enough for me to want to avoid the bathroom at all costs. It's such a pain to get them readjusted and fitting (somewhat) comfortably after pulling them down.

So tell me--has this happened to anyone else?

You are running around in the morning, frantic to get everyone ready for church on time. There's cereal to eat, baths to take, dresses to don, hair to braid, socks and shoes to find, lessons to gather, and diaper bag to pack all before 8:45.

In all the hustle and bustle of the morning, you fail to get your 2-minutes of privacy in the bathroom. But you are already late so you don't want to take the time to use your own toilet.

You think, "It's only 3 hours. I can totally hold it that long."

So, the first hour of church passes. You have to go, but the urge is not that bad. Then you begin the second hour of church. Your bladder is uncomfortably full. You are starting to wonder just how much you drank this morning. Entering the third and final hour of church, peeing is all you can think of. You no longer can focus on what is being said up front. So you slip out quietly and walk quickly, remembering not to run in the hallways, to the restroom, which is, of course, on the other side of the building.

Once in the bathroom, relief is yours. It's after that you remember why you really didn't want to use the bathroom at church. There's the near impossible task of trying to replace your nylons in that teeny, tiny stall. You bend over to pull them up and bump your head on the door. So you turn sideways, hoping for more room. Your bum hits the wall and throws you off balance. Then you are stumbling around in this teeny, tiny stall, trying with all your might not to put a hand or a foot in the toilet.

Finally, the nylons are up, but you have to check to be sure that no part of your slip or skirt are tucked into the nylons. (Because one time I forgot to check, and it was so embarrassing.) You are in the stall, tugging and straightening and pulling and smoothing and checking your clothes. When you think you are as presentable as when you came to church, you exit the stall.

Washing your hands, you notice in the mirror that something is not quite right. So the tugging and straightening and pulling and smoothing continue. Okay. Now everything is good, and you can go back to your meeting.

Next week you are determined to use your own toilet at home before you even think of putting on your Sunday best.

I seriously want to know if this happens to anyone else. Or am I the only one? Leave an anonymous comment if you are embarrassed to admit it. I have to know that I'm not alone in this struggle.