I promised Kaytee some new posts quite a while ago and I have not delivered. Oops. It gets stressful around here, sometimes, and it takes some doing to write a blog post. Which doing I do not always care to do. But, I know I should, as this really is supposed to be something of a record of my life, aside from entertaining the people who actually do read it.
I always wonder, though, why they do. Why do you? Because you find my opinions fascinating? I mean, I think my opinions are fascinating, but I am pretty aware that not everyone shares that view. ;)
Halloween is coming up. I love Halloween in abstract. It appeals to the costumer that still dwells within me. It appeals to the child in me that loves to play dressup, to the imagination that allows me to be, in real life, what I sometimes pretend to be or wish to be in my head.
But then, life has this annoying habit of getting in my way! October is such a busy season with weddings and all, that by the time I really think about getting down to the planning of the costumes, it is the week before Halloween and I am just too tired to really care. So, The Small One usually ends up with something pretty cool. My niece usually gets something nice, and me? Yeah, year after year I end up having to dig through my box of costume crap and try and come up with something. Now, grant you, I have a pretty good costume box, so even my thrown together costumes are pretty cool. Just not as cool as they would be if I actually got around to making something for myself. Alas.
I will post pictures of Halloween, though, rest assured. Kaytee, I will not disappoint!
The Small One is going to be "Blue Alice" as she calls it, from the new Alice in Wonderland. The Man of the House will be dressing up as The Mad Hatter. Spoiled niece will be going as Alice in the Red Queen's castle. The Small One thinks I ought to go as The Red Queen (whom she calls Red Queen Alice's Mom), but I don't have the energy or time to do that costume at this point. Bummer, would have been fun. She has also suggested once or twice that I go as the Bandersnatch, but I vetoed that one.
In other news, The Small One's humour still abounds. The other morning, I lay in bed with my hands tucked behind my head. She grabbed my elbow and pulled, telling me to put my arms down. I asked why? "Because peoples don't like to look at your armpits." Why not? I queried. At this juncture, she released my elbow prodded said armpit and announced, "Because, they are all wild or somethin'." Nice. My armpits are wild. Thing is, it isn't like they were unshaven or anything. They simply offended her for some reason.
She is turning into a right little drama queen, lately. I think it has something to do with being three? At least, that is what I like to believe. And that she will grow out of it, right? RIGHT?
Anyhoo, she has taken to throwing these utterly idiotic and annoying tantrums, which drive me batty, so when they occur, if we are home (how is this for a run on sentence!?!) I send her to her room. Where she howls. A few days ago, upon my sending her to her room, she ran in, cast herself upon the floor and proceeded to give voice in a most melodramatic fashion, as follows.
"JEEEEEEESSSUUUUUSSSSS!!!!! Where have you gone? I want to come to your house! Jeeessuuuussss!!! What did I do?"
I jest not. This actually happened. I think she must be channeling her Southern Baptist roots. I did not know that religion could be inbred like that.
In yet other, though related as pertains to her, news, she likes Dance class. Whew. Like big WHEW! She still whines at me when it is time to get ready, as she suffers from social anxiety, but once she sees how incredibly cute she is in her ballet attire, all is well. And I am not kidding, all it takes is for her to see herself in leo, pink tights and bun and she is rarin' to go. The spazziness that seems to be inherent pops up in dance class, and all I can say is that her teacher is unfailingly patient. The child does not follow directions, spaces off mid exercise and likes to admire herself in the studio mirrors. Not a surprise, really, and I warned dance teacher about it. Dance teacher is sweet and kind and gently takes the child by the hand to lead her back into what she is supposed to do.
Much nicer than me. When I want her attention, it goes more like this.
Me-SMALL ONE!!!!!! HEY!!!! I AM TALKING TO YOU!!!!! PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR MOTHER!!!!!!
At which point I generally poke her with something or flick her ear. Occasionally I have been known to chuck a pillow in her direction. Sometimes it works.
Here's the thing. You can shout at her until the cows come home and if she is distracted, she WILL NOT HEAR YOU. But if you open a candy wrapper in the basement while she is upstairs watching TV? You can bet that the stair door will open and a sweet voice will echo down the stairwell saying, "Hey, can I have some candy, too?"