R is for Rockstar

I'm not sure whether to embrace Anna's songwriting capabilities or censor them. It never fails - every time we go to a public place, Anna pacifies her boredom by either throwing a temper tantrum or composing some original music.

Now I realize this will be funny in 15 years, which is the only reason I'm documenting it - LOL!

Anna's allergic to peanuts, and she loves to talk about it (it's one of her crises). However, the word "peanuts" sounds an awful lot like "penis." Oy Vey. Also, she over-pluralizes words. So, peanuts becomes peanutses (penises).

At any rate, yesterday's ditty (in the middle of the grocery store, mind you) went a little like this:

"I can't have penises be-tuz I'm awerrrgic to dem .... Penises make Anna sick .... Momma LOVES penises and has penis all the time ..." And on and on it went. Bah!

A possible album cover?


Or maybe this one?

Accidents Happen

There are so many crises that happen around here. Anna has a list that she goes through regularly, as if it's soothing to her. If you happen to be one of the strangers in the grocery store/gas station/park/etc, you already know about these travesties. However, the rest of us can refer to this list:

1. The day Mike bit her. "Mike bite me. He bite my head. I tried to take toy from him and he bite my head. It hurt. Pop got mad. Mike bite me .... "

2. The day Mike ran away. "Mike was scared. There was thunder. It scared Mike. He got outta da gate. He ran off. We couldn't find him. We found him. He's home now."

3. I fell down and bonked my head. "I fell. It hurted. I fell and hit my head in the dribe-way (driveway). I cried."

4. The dead fish. "The fish was sleeping. He take a nap. He tired. He sleeps a LOT. He sleepy. He needs some rest."


Last week, we were shopping and Anna was sitting in the back of the basket chatting herself up. I tossed a box of band-aids into the cart and her curious hands immediately went to work dismantling the box. The band-aids sprayed all over the cart. In an effort to head off the impending alligator tears, I said, "Anna, it's no big deal - it was just an accident - just pick them up and put them back in the box." Her sobs got louder and louder and I kept reassuring her that it was no big deal. The crisis was over, but Anna's ALWAYS up for a re-cap. We got up to the cash register and she said, "Mommy - what did I did? You said I was an accident?" :::bangs head into wall::::

This photo seemed fitting for the topic at hand:

We Feed All Animals

A frequent scene around our household involves the constant feeding of anything animal. My gal is soooo terribly concerned w/ these plastic/stuffed animals' well-being that I'm wholly convinced she will grow up to be a world-renown veterinarian. Or an old lady w/ 392 cats.



Course, she told me yesterday that she wants to be a fire hydrant when she grows up. Shoot for the moon, girlfriend ;-)



Though I did get a glimmer of hope that my bright-eyed offspring may be privy to a future w/ a fancy title behind her name when she was given this fine toy:



It's an ANIMAL HOSPITAL - complete w/ everything you need to care for your plastic animals. And Anna's hospital clearly does not discriminate - species of all shapes and sizes were accepted:



And my gal worked herself to sleep, trying fitfully to see every last patient. How philanthropic she is!