Wha, huh? Did you say...poop?
Yeah! Right here on my big toe!
It's probably chocolate, hunny.
Ewww! YOu just stepped in POOP! Joey, gimme a diapey check! NOw! Do you have poops?!@
Where did this come from? ANdy, stop stepping in the poop! Joey NOOO!!! It's NOT Chocolate!
Mom, get it off get if off!
HOld still, would ya! Ugh, so gross. So gross. So gross. Get that foot in the tub. NOW! No! stop! don't walk with that poop foot! So gross!
I can only assume the smushy pellet fell from Kacie's diap on the way to nap.
No pictures. It's poop, people.
I know. Overkill. Enough with the giveaways. You'd think I could write something actually insightful or introspective or something. But let's. face. facts. I have a problem.
Instead of a giveaway, I'd like to call it a Cally has an addiction to making stuff and neglects all things housework to do so, so you should cash in on her weaknesses and get free stuff while you can because her boys are going to need clean underwear like yesterday, opportunity. NOw that is totally catchy.
Seriously. I love it. And I love them...
Leave a comment, and they're both yours. Oh, but hold the phone Burt Healey, that's not all!
THat's right. I went hog crazy. uh, that would be wild. The laundry is so completely overwhelming that I ignored it for not only 2 whole monster lives, but a bag too. I can't have a neglect all day without a bag. t'would be like Disney without the Imagination Movers. Not nearly as satisfying.
Oh yes. Believe it sisters. You get two monster friends, and a suh-weet ride for them to cruise around town in. You will totally need their help picking out fresh produce. They got your back. Pals.
And you can name them whatever you want. Because You. Are. Special.
So leave a comment before midnight Thursday, October 2nd. feed my givey-ness. It surely must come to an end, post haste.
Oh, and I will SOO embroider a name or a sweet sentiment on their back sides, if you wanna. Like HunnyBuns. Or Billy JEan's Not My Lover. That's a popular one.
OH, and if you link to it, I'll give you a double entry. Because I believe in bribery.
of da dress. Here she is...
OH yeah! Go Booky! NOw you either have to have babies, or pick which niece is your favorite. No pressure.
Becky is my cousin's wife. She's an excellent photographer, and she will soon be able to write prescriptions...opening her own online pharmacy for mommy bloggers. Something new. Just kidding, she took an oath guys, don't call her. But check out her blog, though. She's hot.
I'll have the super cool boy friendly (and girl, too) give-away next week. Monday or Tuesday. I'm way excited about this one. I'd do it today, but can't, It's JoeyMan's birthday.
AFter realizing yesterday when I found him under the table having eaten the cream out of an entire bag of oreos, that this boy loves oreos, we ate the other bag or oreos for snack. The whole thing. With milk. Dip away, and smear it where you want kiddos. This day only comes once a year.
I enjoyed it.
We'll do the streamers and cupcakes when the big kids get home from school. Right now we're going to eat suckers at the park.
I wish you could have seen Dani's eyebrows slowly rising starting at least a good 20 feet away from the van. SHe could sense something. horribly. humiliating.
"...duh. Really, mom. What are you doing?"
Jake..."Hey hey hey, mom. You look cool."
Then Dani reached up and grabbed the blue bombers right off my face.
"Give me my glasses back! I will be blinded by the modern trends and crash this van if you don't give me my rad views back!"
"Yeah, like, you should totally get some rainbow splatter clothes to match your views, and hang a big metal peace sign on your neck. Totally, mom, you're so totally rad. Word."
So we've enjoyed hanging out with Joey's new fave from the abyss of old 80's coolness now called the dress-up bin, the honkin' (as in large) specs. As I was cleaning up my STARS junior drill team blue sequin phenomenon complete with cowboy fringe bling, I picked up these beauties...
I put them on and channeled Debbie Gibson, and laughed quite hysterically to myself because they are so darn awesome. I says to myself, let's have some fun today. Yes. I agreed. Party.
So I'm not taking these glasses off...all day. I decided. Just to see if my kids get out of control annoyed with my totally awesome rad shades. I may even google clean pics of Paris Hilton to plead my coolness case.
my plan has proved funniness so far. Joey repeated his request for cookie not cereal a total of 13 times while he stared at my face, eventually going so hilariously cross-eyed he had to shake his eyeballs loose.
Then he giggled. "Mooom. take. doze. off uh you."
"No thanks, Joey."
"Yuh. Huh. Mooom."
"I want. cooookie."
ANdy is completely unphased. No surprise. REmember, he being the one who claims he doesn't belong on Earth.
He said, "Wha? Wow Mom. You look gweat!"
"Yeah, mom. Jutht gweat. I love 'em. Wearth my unduhwayoo?" You know, the grody tighty-whities that never seem to stay in the drawer, or on the rear for that matter.
I kinda forget I have them on, the glasses, not the tighty-whities, until it gets real dark, then I just tilt my head up and look beneath the tint. Pretty sweet.
WE had to go to the post office but didn't make it past Target. I put on my super cool toe cleavage shoes so people would think I totally knew what I was doing. Like, she's totally together. totes.
and they'd go straight for the eyewear aisle to get the latest coolness. But the specs wouldn't be there. Because the only archeological specimen of such a find was on my face. And they'd be jealous.
I bought way too much stuff, and have a nice return bag hanging on my doorknob. The dollar aisle is enticingly fabulous these days.
Be confident. Be strong. You. Are. Cool.
My Jack Handy affirmations so worked until I caught a glimpse of myself in the sliding door reflection, framed by the big red bullseye of welcome to your destiny. I thought to myself for a second, "Cally. You're a dork. Take them off."
Then Andy said, "Mom. You can take thothe off yo fathe tho you can thee the pwithe tag bettuh."
"Good idea, Andy. No thanks."
So here I am, documenting my results for future posterity, through 80's tint. The younger half hates my coolness, and I'm on my way to sit in the car ride line and wave at the totally '08 SUV's with my awesomeness to pick up the older half.
I'll let you know how it goes. because you care.
Power to the AquaNet.
Some of my dear friends are drowning in boys, I know, so for you...I'm not sure this will go with a buzz cut. But I'll do a boy thing next week. If all goes well.
He's a newborn. Piece of cake. Right.
Kacie was all over him. In a controlling, don't look at my mommy or i'll put you in the gallows sort of way. Joey wrinkled his nose and pointed..."what. dat. mom.? ewww. what dat.?" It's a baby. "ewww. don't. like. it. moooom." Joey. pauses. between. each. word. he. says.
There were no injuries, or face slappings, but these babies of mine realized what this baby does to mom. He distracts her. We're talking 8 nectarines, graham crackers, banana, popsicle, elmer's, acrylics, and brown sugar...smushed into one lovely giant masterpiece of maniacs.
All things considered, I did pretty well. I remembered to sway front to back, not side to side...Reminding Thomas of his stint in the womb. I even made swishing noises in his ear.
His dad sings to him in a really high monotone pitch when he cries. I tried that. Scared myself.
I'd slide him into the crib, like butter; sound asleep butter. And just as I'd turn my back, the wailing. The cringing. The praying. Pleeease go to sleep baby. Cute, cute, baby.
Kacie decided she didn't like this thing called beebee.
Yup. We're done.
I love Thomas; and I heart IUD.
But not really. Orange kinda knows she's awesome. She gets along with everyone, in a quirky way. LIke Green. They're secret buds, just a little. Green loves Yellow too much to really admit he's enamoured with Orange. Green and Yellow...we're talking Most Likely to Be Together Forever Yearbook pic thing. Brangelina stuff. Very popular.
Because Green is grounded, you know? He knows what's up, for real. And Yellow has it figured out, too. They compliment eachother. That's why Green was so attracted to Yellow in the front row, stuck between cocky Pink who talked too much. Yellow didn't care if she was picked for the sun or not. A don't worry be happy sort of gal. And Green would never go for Orange for real because of Chartreuse. A blended blessing.
Purple is the jealous type. He likes Yellow, but lacks confidence. He just watches the love affair, and colors romance novels. He thought Red was exciting, but they clashed.
Brown hates Purple. Brown's the mafia. Purple is innocent and naive and ripped off Brown during the Purple Ponies and Rainbows Era, not on purpose, but Brown has a grudge. A mafia grudge. Danger.
So Black looks out for Purple. THey're not real friends, but Black is a defender of all that's good and worth defending. A silent surprise. He likes to act tough.
Black and White go together, cause Michael Jackson said so. Shamon.
OKay, I'd like to talk about Grey for a minute. I mean Gray. He hates that, SEriously, decide already how you feel about him. He's just kinda there, pleasing the masses. A filler. Pulled between Black and White, not really belonging with either. Black likes working out with Grey or Gray. Squats. White just likes hanging out with him for dimension. She's on the fence. The non-commital type. The alluring slow motion hair blowing with a beach backdrop kind of aloof-ness. Let's Be Friend's is tatooed under her label.
Silver is addicted to White. Gray's cousin from the Hills.
Once, Silver threw a party for Gold, and White didn't show. Silver gave her all sorts of excuses, but she was really just shopping with Pink.
Brown got mad 'cause White bumped off his brother Caramel, so he told PInk she couldn't hang out with White anymore, or else.
It's all a bit dramatic, really.
Indigo and Violet are running for City Council. To clean up the streets.
Pink is missing. Black bought a castle and hired a butler.
Orange told Red she's pretentious, and Blue is meeting Brown by the docks.
That's how I see it, anyways.
scribbit write-away contest
I'm thinking of changing the name of this self indulging bloggyliciousness (oh, lame word, I'm full of it today) to cally co. Because I kinda like it, Alyssa.
Opinions? because I lack confidence and can't make decisions. Does it sound a little less narcissistic, or more? LIke the co. part makes it less about me and includes, uh, the company? But cally is really obviously my name...calico is just a play on it using the fabric thing and hodgepodge definition it implies...if I had an actual real live company where people loved me and would pay for my name, that's totally okay and valid, but I don't, I just like to pretend. So many things to consider. False impressions to avoid.
Oh brother, let's be honest. It is about me not really the company. A selfish fix. I guess I could call it moist nougat (random gross words I hate) and it wouldn't change the fact that it's a blog all about me and how wonderful I wish I was. We're being honest. People would just be grossed out by the nasty visual.
And just so you'll feel more comfortable being honest with your opinions, I'll share something even more revealing....
I don't really like the vampire stuff.
But I support you.
Now I feel all vulnerable.
I suppose if I'm really trying to not be so self centered, I should get off the blog named after myself and spend some quality time with my to-do list, and play with the kids for real.
You can make it anonymous if you feel bad with your honest self.
I'm not easily offended. So spill it.
I tried to love Edward; I really did at first, but things went so awry between us.
I was voting on JOn's future, when the quiet freaked me out.
First I found this.
I made some adjustments,
And...I hate to take the sprinkles off this cupcake...but I just paid $4.79 a gallon because this city's out of gas. What the gas crisis?
picked randomly from a big green bucket...
This girl's hilarious. Go read her blog, none of your beeswax, and laugh your cha-cha off. Just a few tidbits...she loves the red stuff, uses smart words I have to look up, can make crickets endearing, and I think she has the ape index like my sister Cassy, but I can't say that for sure...we'd have to measure.
Shoot me an email beeswax, and I'll get your address and if you want anything embroidered on the bag. May I recommend something like...stop lookin' at my bag and check out my designer dungarees. That's catchy.
I wish I could make something for everyone; I feel bad when your sweet comments don't win. But I can't sew all day. Well, I could, but that wouldn't be prudent. My house would stink.
OH MAN...which reminds me of an unfortunate aromatic encounter. I think I'll share.
There I was, checking out some awesome green chairs on craiglist, when I smelled the 80's. It was a gradual, but a mighty reek. Like a wraith.
In one sudden jolt I knocked the chair to the floor and ran to the epicenter of destruction, my bathroom.
And there they were. Jovially spritzing the stench of poofy bangs and tightroll jeans ALL OVER MY HOUSE! One following the other, humming and giggling. My 2/3 full bottle of Giorgio Red was now 1/3 full, and infused into every fiber of my home's being. I bought that bottle seriously before highschool, and now I was being pounded with church dances and first dates. Aromatically tortured.
So we walked around with the blowdryer and paper fans, airing out the headache. It's only subtle now. Now it just reminds me of courting Conan, so I like it. I might buy some Drakkar and spill it on my pillow.
I may try to do another giveaway next week. That was too fun. You guys come out of hiding when I dangle something for free in your faces. It's enjoyable. Any suggestions?
I have to admit I was pullin' for Trenton. Sorry Buzz.
A mad monster cake. No fighting cakes. We're a peace-loving family.
Then, I had to make a monster. To go with the theme, because I had no other monster-ish preparations...prepared. I was actually going to make a monster for each little kid who came to share in some human buthday experiences with AndyMan, but I only got one done. So they got money in their cake, instead.
ANdy asked me to take off the heart, because Monthterth don't love. They gwowl.