Kisses and Well Wishes

To hear Alexis tell it, she has experienced her first major injury. Forget about the time she knocked her head on the corner of the bathroom cabinet and wound up with a goose egg the size of a baseball on her head. The time she tripped and bit a hole in the inside of her mouth that was so big her tooth kept getting stuck in it for days afterwards? That was nothing in comparison to her latest injury. Folks, Alexis has a paper cut on her left thumb. And she is not amused. Not one bit.

She cried for a solid half hour after it happened. Lots of hugs and kisses finally convinced her that she would survive. But every time she touches something with her left hand, she reaggravates the injury and resumes wallowing in her own-self pity. She's decided that the best treatment is Mummy Kisses. She whimpers, sticks her arm out in front of her with her thumb protruding, and runs around until she manages to shove that thumb in my face. I do believe I have spent more time kissing her boo boo today than I have spent yelling at dogs.

Hopefully Alexis will have the strength to pull through this difficult time in her life. If her condition doesn't improve soon, my lips may just fall off.

Overheard (Not That it Will Make a Difference)

You. Dogs. Sit. I said SIT. Meg, Jasmine . . . SIT. Thank you.

There's something we need to discuss. It's not complicated, so hopefully you will understand.

Jasmine--eyes on me.

I don't know what has gotten into you two, but it needs to stop. When I'm standing, I occupy approximately 2 square feet of the floor. STAY OUT OF MY TWO FEET. It's mine. My space.

My legs are a little long . . .

Meg--quit snorting and pay attention.

My legs are a little long, so when I'm walking, I need about 6 square feet of the floor. How about you two monkeys clear a path and stay the hell out of my way?

The next one of you that rams into the back of my legs, trips me, smacks me with their butt--Jasmine, that means you--or blocks my path is getting a one way ticket to the vets office. I'm not bluffing. You will become the vets in-house pet. 24/7 at the vet. That will be your life.

Get out of my space. NOW.

20 Months Later, I'm Still Not My Mother

In just a few hours, Alexis will officially be 20-months old. If someone could explain to me where all that time went, I would really like to know. Seriously, did we all time warp forward a year when I wasn't paying attention?

I may not have any idea what I've done for the past several months, but I do know that I have not (yet) turned into my Mother. The proof is in the pudding:

1. Alexis has never dined on a single TV dinner, Banquet chicken, or tuna noodle casserole. These days, I don't have to whip out that fancy stuff since she's decided she can survive off crackers and water. She's a cheap date.

2. The words, "If God had wanted holes in your ears, he would have put them there" have not come out of my mouth. Sure, Alexis is still waiting to get her ears pierced, but that's because Daddy and I agreed that she should probably ask for it before we submit her to that kind of pain.

3. Play-Doh. I have definately played with it more in the past few weeks that in all the rest of my life combined. It doesn't make that big of a mess, geesh. But I do have to admit I have flashbacks to that time I made it myself every time I get screamed at while I'm cutting out the most perfect little blue and red star-shaped Play-Doh cookies of all time. Toddlers and their control issues.

4. I let Alexis do this at the Zoo a few weeks ago. And I only slathered a half gallon of hand sanitizer over her entire body after the fact.