Randomness

- I would like to personally thank the Steelers for their outstanding performance today. When games go like the one last week, Alexis' vocabulary ends up expanded in ways that are less than desirable. And just to be clear, I'm not the one that yells at the TV during games. I suspect that the coaches and players can't actually hear the people in their living rooms, so I save my energy for yelling at my husband when he teaches our daughter to yell "stupid" at the top of her lungs. Not that he can hear me either, but I like to try.

- I got my butt handed to me in Fantasy Football this week. Last week I lost by one point. If my team doesn't get its act together real soon, I may not make the playoffs. Trust me when I say that would be bad for all of us. I MUST make the playoffs.

- One of these days I will learn that Wal-Mart is an evil place, not at all worth the few pennies we may save by going there. Today's reminder came in the form of a woman in one of the motorized cart things. I'm pretty sure her legs worked just fine, she was just feeling lazy. And mean. She kept yelling at people for being in her way. I wouldn't have known that it was a habitual kind of thing except for the fact that she wouldn't get the you-know-what out of my way. Stopping in the middle of aisle with the motorized cart turned sideways? BLOCKS THE WHOLE FREAKIN' AISLE and thereby forces me to listen to you yell at everyone else for six whole aisles. Would it be wrong if I taught Alexis to yell "Hypocrite" at the top of her lungs?

- Alexis never, ever eats alone. Not even if she's munching on sweet potato sticks and tomato soup.

Happiness by Any Other Name Should be Chocolate

There are times when I'm not entirely sure that Alexis is genuinely my child. When she eats an entire can of lima beans in one sitting, I suspect some foreign DNA must be involved. But then the kid who was too busy sliding out on the deck to acknowledge that I've been calling her for ten minutes will magically hear the muffled crackle of a candy bar wrapper and come running, and I'll know that's my girl. Honestly, I'm far more likely to pay attention for chocolate than I would be for my Mother, so I understand where she's coming from. And I find myself disturbingly relieved that chocolate has finally caught her attention.

Alexis has been a health food kind of kid for as long as I can remember. One of the first signs I had that I was pregnant was that I suddenly had zero interest in ice cream, french fries, and chocolate. And for those of you that know me, you can attest that pretty much all I eat is ice cream, french fries, and chocolate. I went through most of pregnancy unable to stomach the mere thought of junk food, let alone the taste. Clearly that weirdness was because my body had been invaded by a foreign object, and that foreign object prefers healthy food. Give her a choice between cookies and lima beans, and the girl will take the lima beans. While I'm all for it, I can't claim to understand.

So it came as a bit of a surprise to me when Alexis started to become a chocolate thief. Really I had no business buying Halloween candy over three weeks ago, again last week, and again today. I knew I would end up eating it at every available opportunity, but I didn't expect Alexis to start toddling up to me with her Frankenstein arms, pleading for a little piece of chocolate heaven. I have created a monster, and I think I'm proud of it. The smile in this picture? It's in celebration of the Kit Kat that is making it's way to her happy little mouth.

Best Experienced Between Regular Business Hours

So last night's Penguins game was sort of a bust, if only because they lost. I'm willing to forgive that little indiscretion, but only because I had a lot of fun. The return home, that part was a little less fun. Every time (OK, all four times) that I have returned home after the Toddler and her Father were already in bed, I have ended up feeling like a teenager trying to sneak in the house past curfew. Trying to get into this house without setting the dogs off on a barking rampage is probably about as easy as breaking into the White House to stick a big "I'm a Dork" sign on the President's back. By some sort of miraculous bit of luck, I actually made it all the way into the house and into the bedroom without a single woof, arf, or growl. It wasn't until I tried to slip into bed that I detected The Problem.

The Problem was that the Toddler was laying in my bed, on my pillow, a good 20 feet from where she belonged, in her own cozy little crib. I have since learned that she had zero interest in going to bed and that co-sleeping was the only thing that Daddy could do to get some sleep himself. Somehow, someway, I managed to slide into the bed and contort myself into some awkward position that enabled Alexis to stay soundly sleeping where she was. Unfortunately, all my contorting woke up Daddy. A chain of events unfolded that resulted in the shifting of some dogs and, eventually, the awakening of the sleeping child.

Apparently someone, somewhere put a new set of batteries in Alexis because she woke up fully charged and ready to go.

"Hi, Mommy!" Roll, jump, bounce, smother.

"Hi, Jasmine!" Run, bounce, jump, hug.

"Hi, Meg!" Roll, smooch, jump, leap.

"Hi, Daddy!" Bounce, smother, hop, skip.

"BABA, PLEASE!" Jump, chug, jump, smother, chug.

"MORE WATER, PLEASE!" Chug, chug, chug, bounce.

"MOMMY!" Hug, smooch, jump, bounce.

Around and around she went for well over two hours. She was oh-so perky, peppy, and pleased with herself. Just thinking about it makes me a bit nauseous. I don't do pajama parties and I definitely don't do perky pajama parties at 1:00 am with toddlers that need to have a mute button installed.

By the way, please don't ask me why I didn't just put her in her own bed. I need sleep to think of clever ideas like that.