'member that time?

hey, 'member that time in kindergarten when megan introduced me to the concept of the treasure troll?  and 'member how i was under all this pressure to come up with a wish on the spot so i wished for a goat?


now, i'm not ruling out the probable power of the treasure troll, but it's twenty years later and i'm still waiting...





jog our memory on your own blog and stick the permalink right down there, yo.

purge it like it's hooooottt, purge it like it's hoooooottt.

i am a purger.  (i am also a perjurer, but that's not what we're talking about today.)  i am a purger of things, a get-ridder, a be-gone-with-thee-er.  and it works out in my favor, considering we live in an apartment with two kids.  we have no room for sentimentality, so most stuff that we don't use regularly, or realistically will use in the next few years, gets the boot.

i really am merciless.  i would rather get rid of something and pay the extra money later to replace it if we need it than to spend the extra storage space and mental energy keeping track of the thing for the however-many-years it will be before we actually use it.  so i would feel confident in saying that we probably purge at a faster rate than we accumulate.  which means that, other than kids' clothing (which is accumulating out of necessity) and craft supplies/home decor (which is less necessary, but i'm okay with it), our possessions are shrinking in number.

hello, landline-phone-we-won't-use-for-a-while.  you are finding a new home in the garage sale pile.  when we need a landline phone, we will buy a new one, maybe even at someone else's garage sale.  hello, tiny-kids-clothes-that-are-so-cute-but-you-never-actually-got-worn.  you will not be going back in the bin for the next kiddo, because let's be realistic, if you weren't worn this time around, you probably won't be worn next time either.

see how this works? talk to your stuff like it can hear you, then throw it in the trash or make some sweet moolah off of it.

the other day i got serious about cleaning out my clothing.  i don't have a ton of clothing to begin with (not really due to preference as much as to the reality that i don't look like katie holmes, so why even try?), but i got all no-nonsense and got rid of a full THIRD of all the items hanging in my closet.  and that is not an exaggeration.

i realized that even though i didn't have much, i still had a lot of stuff i was hanging onto but wasn't actually wearing on a regular basis.

some of the stuff i hang onto because what if one day the queen comes and she really likes shirts from the nineth grade that make me look good in fall lighting that go with my hair when i dye it red-brown and make me look skinnier but only after christmas? what if i purged it and so i can't wear it for the queen? what THEN?!

some stuff i hang onto because it's too trashed-out to make any money off of it, but not so trashed-out that i'd be okay just throwing it away or giving it to goodwill or making some kind of handmade rug out of it.  (or some other crazy thing i'd do with it.)  i might wear it.

so preparing for this move is actually going to be really good for me, i think.  i'm going to be even more severe than normal in my purging because i don't want to pack, and move, and find a new home for easily-replaced things i might use.  maybe. someday.

so screw you might.  i do what i want.  and i will not be held in bondage to the word might any more.

i am purge (i mean, paige). hear me roar.  then watch me throw stuff in the trash.

thwr: marital intimacy

paige: kiss my teeth.

todd: okay, i'm ready.  don't breathe so much.  ehhhhhhhhhh... they're cold.  i hate that.



and that's how we roll.  

i think these cats were drunk, so don't judge them.

my favorite things: atticus edition.

atticus is super fun right now.  some of my favorite things about him at the moment:


...he calls an eskimo kiss an 'applesauce nose.'

...'moonah' = water, 'meemee' = mitten, and 'boogerfry' = butterfly

...he calls himself 'big head.'

...he likes to play a game called 'football down' in which he catches the football, then fumbles it as he throws himself on the ground.

...he has picked up on the fact that we'll be moving, and frequently says, 'live new house.'

...the other day when penelope was crying, he calmly said, 'sister, you're fine.'  (although it sounded like 'chehcheh, tu fyyy.'  he really speaks his own little language.)

...whenever he gets in trouble, his first response is to ask for a hug.  he's effectively manipulative.

...he walks around saying 'hobay, pekk.'  which means, 'obey or get a spank.'  then he whacks his own bottom.  makes my job easier.

...he likes to ask me to play 'murph' (kitties) or to 'bud' (build).

...all cowboy hats are named papa.

...the first thing he says when he hears todd's key in the door is 'dada food? buhga?  fruh fries? peetsa?'  it really highlights that we should be eating out less.

...the other day he picked his nose, then like a gentleman, extended the favor to penelope and picked hers as well.

...he starts off affectionate with penelope, then tries to see how far he can go - is sitting on her okay? smothering her face in the carpet? laying on top of her? snapping her neck while giving her an awesomely huge hug?  yeah...sweet but not appropriate.  or safe.

...he likes to ask who all poops/has boogers/etc.  (yaya booga? mama booga?)

...he has this melt-your-heart laugh whenever you tickle his pitties.

...he knows all his body parts, although he can never actually find his nipples when you ask him to point to them.  he usually points to his sternum. 

...i painted his toenails once because i was painting mine and he wanted in on the action (it's winter, people; who would ever know?).  now he frequently asks to take off his socks so he can look at his 'peet.' (paint.)

...he is all boy, but he is also...i don't know what the word is - organized, maybe?  a "J" personality? ...he has to put his toys away before we leave or before he goes to bed.  he hates getting in trouble.  he asks before he does things that might not be allowed.  he puts his plate on the counter after he's done eating, without being asked.  he has never tried to climb out of his crib, undress himself, open doors he's not allowed to open.  he is kind of the perfect kid.

(not to say he's not also asserting his independence- he hates being watched while doing things he knows how to do himself, or being told how to do something, or having to hold my hand in the parking lot.  he is also learning how to make requests for what to wear.)

and one of my favorites - because he's been sleeping on flannel sheets, he wakes up with the craziest bedhead and this wonderful warm-sheets-baby-head-sleep smell.

ooh, i love this kid.  i love everything about spending all day with him.  i miss him when he's sleeping.  what a blessing.

'member that time?

hey, 'member that time my mom left me home alone in the evening for the first time, and she told me to call the neighbor if i needed anything?  and 'member how i got totally freaked out but had no real excuse to call the neighbor, so i made up a lie that some guy was trying to break into the house? and 'member how they called the cops and i had to give a testimony or whatever about the guy? so 'member how i lied and lied and lied to the police, and perverted justice or perjured or whatever?  i should probably go to jail or complete some community service or something for that.  and it will probably go on my permanent record.





jog our memory on your own blog and link up!

saw another famous person at the mall. nbd.

i don't go to the mall often.  and that is an understatement.  but when i do, i seem to be incredibly lucky in the brush-with-fame department.

last time i went, i got to see the back of david tutera's head.  not to brag or anything, but from 20 feet, it looks exactly like you would expect it to look.  in fact, lauren was all like, who's that and i was all like, it looks like the back of david tutera's head. then we looked up and saw a giant banner with the FRONT of his head on it, with some words that went along the lines of 'yes it is david tutera.  at the mall.  rightnow.  nbd.'  so i'm pretty much class-A when it comes to identifying C-list celebrities from 20 feet and from behind.

which is why i should be trusted when i say kobe bryant was riding the escalator the other day.  i kid you not.  i was within 50 feet of kobe bryant.  and his wife.  at the mall.

so there i was, innocently feeding my baby outside of the orange julius...shack.... (no, i was not feeding her orange julius) and there he was.  riding the escalator like any other lazy person.  (although i was all like, you're in shape enough to take the stairs.  save room for us fatties.)

but here's the thing: he's only like 5'5" in real life.  i'm dead serious.  and he's not really all that in shape.  but he does wear clothing that is made for someone over six feet and in shape, so he kind of swims in it.  and here's the other thing:  he was not riding with his normal drop-dead-gorgeous wife.  instead, he was hanging out with some lady who looked like she'd be at the mall in the middle of a wednesday.

so here's what i took from it:  the camera adds ten pounds to kobe...long-ways.  he needs a stylist.  and he's kind of a dirt bag, riding the escalator with a lady who's not his wife.

there's also the possibility that it wasn't actually kobe, but i think my track record shows that i'm pretty adept at identifying semi-close-by celebrities, so take my word on it.  it was him.

ahhh, thursday.

we've had a really weird, busy week.  lots of mornings out.  went to trader joe's yesterday with lauren, which made it all worth it, but still.  weird week.

so this morning, i opted to stay home from bible study so the kids could have at least one normal morning this week (tomorrow is set to be strange as well).  you know, relax.  hang out. enjoy each others' company.

it is 9:15.  i have declared a 'pajama day on purpose.'  i have not brushed my teeth yet.  the kids have been up for an hour and i have changed five diapers.  five.  three of which were poopy, one of which was in a cloth diaper.  so there was that.  the littlest kid is down for nap early because she was having a meltdown.

and all i can think is, if i had chosen to go to bible study someone else would've had to change those poopy diapers.  there's a reason i paid for a semester of childcare and i should have taken advantage.  not to be a butthole or anything.

well, i should probably go change into clean pajamas since these ones are currently covered with formula.

such is life.

yum.

so, while atticus won't touch chicken (even chicken nuggets) and most veggies, i've figured out that he LOVES red meat.  burgers, steak.  you know.  and while he doesn't eat potatoes in most cases, he WILL eat them when paired with steak.

and guess who else loves steak and potatoes? yep, the sis.

here she is eating yogurt:




guess what else she loves? split pea soup.  chili.  salmon tacos.




yeah.  i think the fact that i waited so long to give her 'big kid food' means that she'll take whatever she can get.  so now we're just moving to feeding her whatever dinner we're having (within reason, of course.  no eggs or nuts or fake stuff, obviously.) 

thwr: colorful.

paige: what color do you get when you mix red and yellow?

todd: orange.  have you not read mouse paint?!?



and that's how we roll.