Cat with Rice...

I should be cleaning my house, my mother-in-law is coming tomorrow and I need to finish doing the "Mom" clean. Which means every visible spot possible. I say possible, because, thankfully, I have a wonderful mother-in-law who's very supportive and doesn't give any flack (she really just doesn't want her son back). Joking, I lucked out when they passed out mother-in-laws. Still, something inside drives me to wipe down walls, cabinets, if I'm lucky I'll make it to the baseboards. I did the kitchen counters/appliances yesterday.
However, though I sincerely intended to get a jump start on cleaning this morning, Big Daisy stayed home from school for a second day (not feeling well) and Little Daisy decided to cleave herself to my side this morning. Mark my words, after I finally get this house clean Little Daisy won't want anything to do me. So in the middle of listening to Big Daisy moan and trying to get Little Daisy to give me some space to breath, the cat starts a puking. So after chasing him out of the house with little Daisy slung horizontally over my hip (the football carry), I cleaned up the puke, begged my husband to stay home from work (to which he giggled and darted out the door), and proceeded to vegetate on the couch until 11:00. I finally got LD down for a nap, got a little cleaning done...and "snap" LD is awake again. I sure my mother-in-law doesn't expect clean sheets!!! ( I may be up kinda late tonight.....)
Oh, yeah, Cat with Rice....refers to what he will become should he continue to binge/purge in my living room....no comments from PETA please, lest I pelt you with cat vomit....

Huh????

So Friday night, as Big Daisy and I were walking into Academy to buy her yet another pair of running shoes, she asked me this question:
"Mom, do chickens get asthma??"
Honestly, were does she come up with this stuff. I think she asks me these crazy questions just to make me look dumb. I'll have to start practicing my snappy comebacks, like,
"Why yes dear, they do get asthma, but they die because they can't use their wings to push their inhalers." Or something really bizarre like: "No sweetie, chickens don't get asthma because they don't have lungs. They breathe through their feathers...."
Instead of a snappy comeback I foolishly asked, "I don't know, why do you ask?" Turns out she's decided to write a book, about ranching (not that she's ever been on a ranch). For some reason she seemed to think I would know something about ranching, not that I've ever been on a ranch. (I guess it is nice to know that she still thinks I'm omniscient, except of course when it comes to being a 10 year old girl in 4th grade, which oddly enough she seems to think I have no experience at.) Anyway, it was worth a good chuckle. I'll let everyone know when her ranching anthology is ready to be published.

a moment of peace

Thank heavens, the baby is asleep!! Little Daisy has finally dozed off after a morning of fussing, fighting and screaming. She fussed while Big Daisy got a haircut, 'cuz mean old mom wouldn't let her run around the shop, she fussed while we ate lunch, cuz mean old mom wouldn't let her run around the restaurant. (Notice a pattern) This child's scream could curl the hair of the most wretched and loathsome banshee ever known. I'm convinced that her immeasurable cuteness in between fits of rage is simply a survival mechanism, nature's way of keeping her alive. Fortunately for her, I've been through this before, I could write a book, Zen and the Art of Surviving Your Toddler. I think the trick is that you have to stop caring what other people think, kids are gonna scream sometimes, in public! We moms do our best to handle the situations, but it's still gonna happen. I would never take this child to the movies on date night, but hey, we gotta leave the house sometime, so HEB, Wal-Mart, and most restaurants - fair game!
But right now, she's on her best behavior (meaning she's asleep), all is right with world. The halo and wings are out, and I can revel in her peaceful, and serene cherubic little face and soft adorable little curls. If I am lucky, she'll wake rested and happy, if I'm not lucky, it's bouncing baby banshee time all over again.