Today, when my mother kindly invited us to dinner, Ruby had this to add:
RUBY: Grandma? This time can you make roast beef and Madagascar?
ME: Do you mean mashed potatoes?
RUBY: <Smirks>
Her inner smart-ass is so smart it even tricks her sometimes. At least she still gets a kick out of it.
Lora
This morning I punched all of my entries into a random list generator to find out who won the F-Words Monster Stuffie Giveaway, and hit the “randomize” button. So much easier than my first idea which was to cut little ballots, then write people’s name on them, then put them in a box then can you tell I’m delaying announcing the winner to increase anticipation? Is it working? It must be really annoying. Actually, I’m pretty sure that no one is even reading this part. In fact, I’m so certain that no one is reading this part that I will make a confession. Once, when I was about 12-years-old, I snuck (is that the past tense of sneak?) and ate an entire row of rice crispy squares while my mom was at the beach, then when she came home and asked me about it I didn’t own up to it. For years. It’s still a joke in our family. Well here it is mom. I did it.
It was MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Okay, back to the contest.
The winner of the F-Words Monster Stuffie Giveaway is…
…ready?…
As you may have heard, I got this weird rash on my face. First my doctor thought it was Lupus. Then after my blood work came back negative for that (but positive for me!) he wrote me a $60 prescription. I used it and it didn’t get rid of my rash.
I went back last week. Now, he thinks maybe it’s rosacea. So he wrote me a prescription for that. This time it was $90. Unless he can write me a complimentary prescription to clear up my nagging case of broke-ass, I’m not paying it, so I’m going to try to treat it on my own with Dr. Mom’s home remedies.
Then I decided to quit having my bake stand at the Farmer’s Market. I am not a quitter, but the stress of everything on top of everything else was too much, and the market stand was kind of pushing me into Crazyville. The day I decided to quit, my rash got 50% better.
Anyway, I still have this lingering rash in patches here and there, that I thought were relatively unnoticeable. Probably because it looks so much better. Tonight, however, Little Miss Observant McMicroscopicEyeBalls, a.k.a. Ruby Banks, noticed it was still there. Here is how she decided to comfort her poor, red, bumpy mother:
RUBY: Mom, are you going to go back to the doctor so he can get rid of that rash?
ME: No, I’m going to try to get rid of it on my own.
RUBY: Well, I think it might be time for you to buy a new face.
ME: Excuse me?!?!
RUBY: (With the smirkiest little smirk that you ever did see) Well, don’t worry. You can just get a new face but put your old hair back on.
ME: Thanks.
I am HILARIOUS!
On the bright side, I think she did unveil another source of stress that could be contributing to my face rash. I’m not pointing fingers but her name starts with “R” and ends with “uby.”
IrRASHionally yours,
Lora
Tonight, at the stroke of twelve, not ONLY does our van turn back into a pumpkin (which should decrease our insurance payment significantly), but the F-Words Monster Stuffie Ballot Box will be sealed FOREVER! Or at least until tomorrow morning when I do the draw.
So if you want to get your name in you can:
For details check out the original post here.
Win our brother or sister and take him/her home with you. We’ll get over it…with years of therapy. Good luck.
Good luck everyone!
Lora
This afternoon Ruby and Emma got up from their naps and came down the stairs individually. I guess Emma needed an extra second in bed or whatever. (NOTE TO EMMA: I can relate. Let’s keep this in mind tomorrow at 6:30AM). Anyway, this happened.
Thump, thump, thump (down the stairs), walks right to me, and without a hello or anything…
RUBY: If you’re a grown up or a kid and you want to change yourself, you can but you always have to be yourself.
Walks directly to the couch and sits down.
And a second later…
Thump, thump, thump (down the stairs), walks right to me, and without a hello or anything…
EMMA: Mom? Was I sleeping on a polar bear?
Walks directly to the couch and sits down.
Same movie, different language. You gots to love those kiddles.
Peace out,
Lora
I love my siblings. I really do. I know, I know. A lot of people really love their siblings, but in my family it’s different. They’re all so incredibly supportive of EVERYTHING I so much as THINK of doing, they’re all amazingly thoughtful, and they’re all hilarious. I just love the crap out of them.
So, for a while there, I was the only parent among my siblings, until my sister Jenny was blessed with her little Olivia. Just over two years ago I became an auntie to this kid.
I know what you’re thinking and you’re right. She’s the sweetest. But you’re not 100% right, because she is actually tied for sweetest with my second niece, her sister, Emily.
Right? Obviously, I was meant to be an aunt if my nieces turn out this good. You’re WELCOME Jenny and Kevin. Sheesh, parents. They’re always trying to take all the credit. Anyway…
A couple of weeks ago, Jenny came to visit from New Brunswick with her two little sweet peas. You heard me…New Brunswick. As in New-as-east-as-you-can-get-without-falling-in-the-Atlantic-Brunswick. Move closer already! Anyway, it was wonderful to see them, and I’m sure that the hassle of going on a car-plane-car ride to and from New Brunswick with a two-year-old and a newborn was worth it if only for this photo.
So, as you may or may not remember, about a month ago I was approved for an ad program called WordAds to make a little money on my blog. Come to think of it, I think I only mentioned it on Facebook, not on my actual blog. Anyway, that old lady you see in the bathtub at the end of most of my posts is one of those ads.
I searched high and low, including talking directly to WordPress (the creators of the program) to find out how much one could stand to make from uglying up one’s blog with ads. I got a few different answers, but the most definitive was that the subscribers are paid per “impression.” This means that when someone loads the page, or a new page and a new ad is displayed I get paid for it. No clicking on the ad required.
At this news I got pretty excited. So I poured it on and was able to get about 90 hits a day. I thought maybe this could make me some money. And did it ever! In one month I made….get ready…
Look out biology enthusiasts. We’ve got a new phenomenon on our hands.
Ruby and Emma Banks, at 19-months apart, are the world’s first pair of different-aged conjoined siblings.
Siblings Ruby (aged 4) and Emma (aged 2.75) may appear to be just two, normal sisters wearing their mother’s (stretchy-not-huge) pajama pants, but this is simply not the case.
If you were to strip away those forced, cheesy smiles, you might find a scene like the one portrayed in this next chilling photo, to be the more common case.
This morning I set the kids up to do a craft, which involved paint, picture frames and father’s day. I don’t want to give away any secrets in case Chris reads this. We’re good with secrets around here. If you’re looking for tips, here’s how Ruby kept her Father’s Day crafts a secret.
Secret Keeping Tactic Part 1: Saying, “Dad, today we’re going to do a craft for…Mother’s Day, NOT Father’s Day, okay?”
Secret Keeping Tactic Part 2: Saying, “Dad? Nothing!”
Secret Keeping Tactic Part 3: Saying, “We’re not painting anything for you, Dad.”
Secret Keeping Tactic Part 4: Deciding that as long as Dad is in the next room, we can feel free to scream out every detail regarding the secret craft at the top of our lungs. And when I say “our” lungs, I mean “Ruby and Emma’s” lungs.
So I set the kids up with their secret craft, and I got to work on my grocery list. While I was coming up with the list I overheard the word “tattoo” several times, but it didn’t really sink in. Until I turned around to find this:
I think I would have been more mad if it didn’t suit them so well. Like, really, they look pretty cool right?
Anyway, here’s what went down:
So every Christmas I make most of my gifts. Because I have the time? No. Because I am cheap? Partially. Because I’m completely nuts? Bingo! Anyway, this past Christmas I made these little monster stuffies for my kiddles.
The big ones stand about 18-inches tall and they all double as a pillow. They’re super sturdy and they’re customized for each kid.
Ruby is our resident princess, so hers is the pink one with hearts and bows.
HELP! I have been feminized against my will!
Emma’s is the orange and blue one. She loves owls (hence the fabric) and clenching things (mostly hair but that’s another post altogether) with her fingers, while touching it with her thumb. Weird…but that’s why I put those horns on it – for her to hold onto.
Great. I can’t WAIT to have my horns constantly held and crushed. A monster stuffie’s dream come frickin’ true.
Then Ben is a boy (not unfortunately named girl, duh) so his is blue and small. He was 9-months at the time and well let’s be honest, at 9-months you aren’t exactly a personality showcase so I wasn’t sure how else to customize it.
I am a blank slate. You may recognize me from my aliases, “boring” and “dull.”
Okay so I just reread this and it totally sounds like I’m bragging. But it’s not just plain old bragging if you have a point, right? Well here’s the point.
You, my friend, stand a very good chance at becoming the owner of your own, customized doll!
Okay…stop screaming with joy already and I’ll tell you how to enter.
