Conversation with my sister-in-law

I was speaking to the only one of my sisters-in-law to whom I've explained the entire leaving my old blog situation. Some of you know what I am talking about, some don't. To those who don't, I apologize. Suffice it to say that there are some in-laws who do not like me. At all. In fact, my family has been removed from their family's Christmas card list. That's as bad as it gets, right? ;)

Anyway, a wedding is coming up this summer, and it could possibly be the first time I'll see the other parties involved in the situation since the situation occurred (assuming I don't see them at one possible time prior). I recently did a small favor for my sister-in-law and was talking on the phone with her:

Me: So now you owe me.

SIL: Yeah? What do you want?

Me: I want any necessary rescuing or protection at the wedding. Don't let anyone punch me in the nose.

SIL: Oh I won't let anyone punch you in the nose.

Me: You can be my bodyguard. {pause} I can call you Al. No, wait. You can call me Al. I'll call you Betty.

SIL (laughing): Bye.

Me: See ya, Betty.

December digest

Mid-April. Spring is in the air, the flowers are blooming, the weather is warming. What better time to cover the last full month during which I was incommunicado? The first half of December in the Picklebottom household is pretty mundane, but soon enough it is time to prepare for Beth's birthday. This year (well, okay, LAST year), Beth was turning six, so she was allowed to have a party. (With four kids, we limit parties to ages 1, 6, 10 and MAYBE 16 and 18, but we're not there yet, so who knows. Other years, the birthday child gets to select a friend or two for a fun activity like a zoo trip or a movie and ice cream.) She chose to have her party at one of those paint-your-own-pottery places doing mosaic projects.

This was her cake:





At the party:





Presents later, at home:



Treats that I sent to school for her class:



Pretty soon after Beth's birthday, which falls on the 20th, comes Christmas. I don't feel like typing much, since I'm multi-tasking by watching a movie while I write this (hey, I'm a busy lady), so suffice it to say it was a great Christmas and now let me regale you with pictures.

Jo decorating the tree:



The tree beneath which are the PRESENTS:



Christmas morning waiting for Daddy to wake up:



Beth's new hat (She had tattooed her face with tattoos she received for her birthday. We couldn't get them OFF.):



Mmmmmmm... marshmallow Santa:



Yeah, baby!!! Rock Band 2!!!:



Silly shots of Beth and Amy:

Call me the Crunch Master

Oh, you thought I meant THIS:



HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




Photo credits: Nestle Crunch bar came from here. Cap'n Crunch was here. Ab crunch was here.

Easter chicks from hell

Yesterday, I went to the grocery store to pick up some coconut to make these. As I walked into the baking supplies aisle, I glanced to my right and saw these:



Wait. Take a closer look...



Little devil chicks. I just HAD to buy them. I'm pretty sure those devil horns are actually supposed to be wings, but COME ON... they SO do not look like wings. They look like devil horns. OR... maybe they actually ARE devil horns, and these particular chicks were made to add a whimsical touch to a platter of deviled eggs. It's possible. Anyway, I'm thinking of using them like some of you use your Mr. Pickleses^** (would that be the correct plural of Mr. Pickles?). I don't, however, wish to take them all along with me each time I go somewhere that I want to take a devil chick. So I will have to give them each a unique name:

Satan


Lucifer


Beelzebub


His Heinous Highness


Duchess of Devilishness


and

Sultan of Sin


Now I just have to decide which to take where, when. They're all just so devilishly adorable.



** After searching Swistle's site for Mr. Pickles for the link in this post, it appears that Mr. Pickles and the devil chicks are closely related. For some reason I had assumed Mr. Pickles was a sturdier variety of craft-chick. So perhaps the devil chicks' names should be Satan Pickles, Lucifer Pickles, Beelzebub Pickles, His Heinous Highness Pickles, Duchess of Devilishness Pickles and Sultan of Sin Pickles. Swistle, if you read this post, does Mr. Pickles have wings or devil horns?

Tuesday tidbits

• First I have to say that I love my title to this post, because I find alliteration absolutely appealing and awesome although asinine^*. Also, I like the word TIDBITS. I'm not sure why, since it sounds like cat food. Anyway, it just popped into my head, which means that I am probably inadvertently stealing it from someone else. So to that person, I apologize. Don't sue me, as you would be sorely disappointed in your winnings in such a lawsuit.
  
  
• My kids painted Easter eggs this past weekend. What, you want pictures? All right *grumble,grumble*, I'll go get the camera and upload them if that'll make you happy. Just wait here a minute... {elevator music version of something by Bon Jovi} OK. Here we go. Sorry that took so long; Meg had (once again) stolen my USB SD card reader thingy and I had to go track it down. OK, TECHNICALLY it's not mine, it's my husband's, but come on people, you KNOW that makes it MINE. Voila (yes I'm too lazy to go copy and paste the accented letter):
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Meg is missing from the photos because she elected to abstain from the activity. She was playing the teenage martyr because she was pissed that I hadn't yet made strawberries magically appear in the fridge. Apparently when she wants strawberries to make a smoothie, she means the very next time you leave the house, who cares if it's just to get the mail from the mailbox, SURELY there's a damn grocery store close enough by to take a little detour. For any of you who have little ones, prepare yourselves for teenage martyrdom, it is a COMMON occurrence.
  
  
• Today is grandparent's day at Beth's kindergarten, which means that my MIL's sister (who pinch hits for my MIL in these situations, since she is 20 minutes away and my MIL is 2 hours away) is coming over. I should be cleaning, but I am typing this instead. It's because of my procrastination illness. I can't help it.
  
  
• Beth has a boyfriend. She kissed him on the bus. Well, on the lips while they were on the bus. I had to tell her that kissing is not appropriate school-type behavior. She is SIX. I'm going next week to pick out my grave plot, since I'm sure I will be needing it in 7-10 years.
  
  
• Back on this post, I said I was going to be giving away a used, dust-jacketless book that I picked up for $1 at a library sale. SURPRISINGLY (ha!), there didn't seem to be much interest in said giveaway item. With only FOUR comments on that post, the odds of winning are TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT!!! Lucky(?) entrants! Random.org awards the book to... Jess! I'm sorry Jess, but you commented and thus will be cursed with THE BOOK THAT NO ONE WANTED. Luckily, I already have your address (assuming I can find it in my email again), so you can't get out of it by not providing your address. *evil cackle*
  
  
• And FINALLY... I recently came across this guy. You should check him out. Interesting guy, interesting family, the most ADORABLE little boy named Diego, for whom Amy would fall head over heels because COME ON... DIEGO? Her favorite babysitters characters in the world are Dora and Diego. She would be smitten. The PROBLEM is this: I left a comment on his blog and he came over here and checked me out. He left a comment on one of my posts that said he could tell I'm a really funny one. GAH! Now I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint him. (Though I guess I can only do that if he comes back.) Those of you who read here know I can only pull the funny out ON OCCASION, and even then it's not always that good. Or funny. Or entertaining AT ALL. WHY do you guys even read this? Are you GLUTTONS FOR PUNISHMENT? Gluttony is a sin, you know, one of the seven deadlies, last I checked (which OK, isn't very often). Wait, I seem to be getting off track here... what was I talking about... oh yes, Jason and his possibly, PROBABLY, unrealistic expectations of me. Jason. Dude. Please don't be disappointed. I want you to like me, I really do. Because from the pictures on your blog, you have a GORGEOUS home, one that would be SO MUCH NICER than a hotel should I ever find myself in California. You know? Just sayin'.
  

*Technically not alliteration, since APPARENTLY alliteration is "the repetition of usually initial CONSONANT sounds in two or more neighboring words or syllables". *I* say it IS alliteration, because I don't believe in discrimination of any sort, even vowel discrimination.

Haircuts

The BEFORE shot of Jo and Beth:



Amy's BEFORE:



AFTER:

Amy had NEVER had a haircut. This was her first. She wouldn't hold still for an after shot, and her hair doesn't look all that different. She had about 3 1/2 inches cut off the length (it was LONG) and had it angled around her face a bit.





Jo wanted bangs again (much to my dismay, since I just keep thinking that will mean another year of hair hell when she decides she wants to let them grow again) and a shoulder-length bob.



And the big, huge, MASSIVE change - Beth wanted a pixie cut.