One More Confession

I admit it, I'm still obsessed with the stupid reborn dolls. So obsessed, in fact, that I've been following some of them on eBay to see what happens. My personal favorite was just relisted for $199 and still has no bids. I would be a liar liar pants on fire if I didn't admit that I want to buy the stupid thing. I'm willing to pay $20. I suppose it's a good thing that it doesn't look like it's going to happen.

In other news of relisted dolls, this guy is back. He sold the last time for $787 dollars (pick your jaw up off the floor, you look cuter with it tucked neatly above your neck), but apparently his "first Mommy" (I so didn't come up with those words--the seller did) didn't make her payment on time, so he's back up for sale. Bidding is at $400+ dollars right now. C'mon, you know you would love this face for Mother's Day:

*shudders*

Getting a Few Things Off My Chest

Confession #1: There is still a fully-decorated miniature Christmas tree in Alexis' bedroom. Every time I go upstairs, I see it and think that I should go down to the garage and grab the plastic tub for it. Every time I figure that I'll do it right after I do whatever it is that I went upstairs to do, operating on the theory that if I stop what I'm currently doing, I'll forget to do it. So I finish whatever, and then promptly forget why I wanted to go back downstairs. Putting away said tree is a two-minute job. Literally, it just needs put in the tub and escorted back to the garage full o' Christmas love. At the rate it's happening, though, I suspect I might as well just leave it up for next year.



Confession #2: Our living room usually looks like a bomb went off in it. I stopped cleaning up the toys or asking the Toddler to clean up her toys about a month ago. Strangely, nothing really looks different than it did when I still fought the battle. I think there might be a valuable lesson in there somewhere, but I can't seem to find it in my sleep-deprived state.



Confession #3: Treating a sick fish who suddenly became unsick, but that I treated anyway just to be safe, resulted in the death of $100 worth of saltwater fish. Now I'm the one who is sick. Project Saltwater Tank of Horrors is not going well.



Confession #4: I'm still trying to convince the Toddler that she likes NKOTB so that I can blame her when I buy the new album. She's not cooperating with my brainwashing attempts.



Confession #4: I told a bold-faced lie to a daycare teacher today. Since Shell left, potty training has gone to the crapper (horrible pun intended). The Toddler was going potty when she was at school, but hasn't since Shell's last day because no one is taking her. I tried asking nice. I tried friendly reminders. I tried back-handed remarks. I'm giving the "she's potty-trained at home" lie thing a try before I resort to drastic measures. If I don't start seeing some potty training going on at daycare, I'm sending her in underwear. Bwahahaha! It should only take a few puddles before they figure out to take her every once in a while. Why, yes, I am evil. I'll make sure they are Dora underwear so we can add a little pee on Dora's face to the shenanigans.



Confession #5: I have spent the past half hour trying to convince the Toddler to show me how she dances to Dancing with the Stars. Obviously, I forgot Rule #1 of parenting: Under no circumstances whatsoever will you have any control over your kids at any time. Yeah, I'll get Mount Rushmore moved to Canada before I get her to dance on command. This is the best I could do:







Confession #6: I totally laughed when she fell. There's a special place in hell waiting for me, I just know it.

Tinkerbell Has Stopped Talking Dirty to Me

The Toddler has this toy camera that someone who hates me very, very much bought her for Christmas. The hunk of annoying is Tinkerbell themed and says lovely things like, "Fairy Power!" and "Say Tinkerbell!" when its buttons are pushed just right. I guess it's supposed to be Tinkerbell's voice, but really it sounds like Minnie Mouse after years of steroid abuse. It's a bit phone sex voice-ish is what I'm saying. Anyway, as with all toys that have the ability to make my ears bleed immediately, the Toddler LURVES pushing those buttons. Over and over and over until my head explodes.

A few days ago, it dawned on me that the reason she LURVES that stupid camera is that she LURVES to mimic me. Hello! I am that crazy woman who has a camera permanently attached to her forehead. So, I felt all sorts of flattered for the first ten minutes that she snapped my picture while Tinkerbell invited me to do things that I can't repeat on this here in-law friendly blog. Once I was done feeling all warm and gushy and started to smell all the blood that was pouring out of my ears, I devised a genius plan. I swapped the Tinkerbell camera for a REAL! LIVE! CAMERA! (It has to be said in all caps and with exclamation points because that is how the Toddler would write it if she knew anything about punctuation.)

The kid? Ain't half bad at this camera stuff. Here is some of her work, totally unedited (mostly because I need to get to bed and don't have time to edit any photos right now).

Here is a lovely photo of her new BFF, Baby Shell. I guess she was getting a diaper change. On her face.

I suspect the kid had a bit of help with this photo, but I can't prove it. Let's not talk about the fact that I was obviously sitting right there and probably should have been paying more attention to what the kid was doing with my old camera.

With this photo, Alexis officially surpasses her father and his ability to take pictures of me. It's as if I exist in her mind or something. Amazing.

We have really nice crown moulding that me, myself, and I put up a few years ago. I'm glad I have photographic evidence of this feat I plan to never again replicate.

Hey, look! It's Meg! Or, at least it's her neck. Part of it anyway.

She captured a very rare smile on the face of the grumpy one. I suppose I could have flipped the photo the right way, but I find the sideways thing to be part of the charm. (And I'm lazy.)

This is a much more accurate representation of what Mr. Husband usually looks like.

Because my kid is brainwashed a genius, she took a picture of the "Penins skating." I totally need to get her on video saying that for future blackmail use.

Finally, a little photo of the dreaded Tinkerbell camera and one of Alexis' 4,000 dolls. This doll has not yet been named, but that's OK because it's wearing clothes. Somehow, the Toddler even managed to capture part of herself in the photo. Specifically, she was wearing that red ladybug shirt. I'm not sure how she managed the almost self-portrait, but well done, kiddo.

Looking at the world from a toddler point of view is WAY more fun than listening to Tinkerbell talk dirty.