Loving the Moving Guys

If it's not 6:00am on a weekend morning, you probably won't catch me turning on the TV to keep Alexis busy. It's not that I mind letting the TV do a little child entertaining from time-to-time, it's more that I prefer to use other methods (think chains, traffic, rivers, and/or an old refrigerator). The thing is that too much TV turns Alexis into an Angry Little Freak who can't hear a single word I say. I'd rather deal with never-ending pestering while I try to get something done than a little girl who yells, "NO! I WATCH MICKEY SHOW! GO AWAY!"

Mr. Husband, on the other hand, is a fan of the giant glowing babysitter. It's fine with me if he wants to deal with the Angry Little Freak, because it probably means I'm getting a chance to sleep more than four hours. Totally worth it. If he is on duty, he is more than welcome to handle things however he sees fit, just so long as no one is severely injured or dies.

Since I am not around when Alexis watches things like the Disney Channel, I had no idea that I was actually missing out on a little something something. Make that four something somethings.

Why did no one tell me that there are kinda-sorta-maybe-in-a-way hot guys on the Disney Channel? Y'all have been holding out on me.

So I made this little discovery a few months ago, and since then, the "Magic Roofers" have become my heroes. (I have no idea why Alexis calls them the "Magic Roofers" but I do admit I actually thought that was the name of the show up until about two weeks ago. Oops.) Not only are they kinda-sorta-maybe-in-a-way eye candy, they sing songs that don't make me want to find a box of sporks and gouge somebody's eyes out. It's always good when music doesn't make me sporky.

But. But. BUT! Not only do I not hate Imagination Movers, I think I might luuuuurve them. A lot. Ever heard that song, "I Want My Mommy?" OMG! Greatest song ever!

"I love my mommy
I love my daddy
But I’m happy in my bed at night
Cause I’ve got my pillow
And I’ve got my blanket
And I know that everything’s gonna be all right!"


Be still my heart.

You know this is a cause near and dear to my heart. VERY near and dear my heart. My exhausted, sleep-deprived heart.

So. Here's the thing. Right around her birthday, Alexis started singing that song all the time. Also right around her birthday, she started staying in Her Own Damn Bed (the bed is forever going to be known as "Her Own Damn Bed"--it's an official title of sorts).



She's still not staying in her bed 100% of the time, but it's close.

And close is spectacular.

I love you, Imagination Movers!


Matchy Matchy Happy Happy

Dear Target,

I'm about to ask you a favor, and I just want to make it clear that it PAINS me to ask it. PAINS ME. And kind of makes me want to puke. Sadly, though, I have been left with no choice.

You see, my dear daughter has decided that it's really fun for me and her to wear matching pajamas. There was a time when I very nearly fall to the ground laughing hysterically when I saw mothers and daughters wearing matching clothes, but I'm coming to realize that sometimes it's the kid's fault. I assure you, in this case it is definitely the kid's fault. Alexis gets ridiculously excited when she digs through her pajama drawer for a particular pair, then digs through my drawer for a matching pair. The smile on her face as she hands me my pajamas and says, "We match the same!" is enough for me to forget just how dumb grown woman look when they wear clothing that kids can wear.

In return for me voluntarily dressing in matching pajamas, I get a little gift from Alexis. She has dropped the whole thing where she would only wear wretched Disney Princess gowns. This. is. spectacular. Truly, it brings a joyful little tear to my eye to think of all those obnoxious Disney sluts sitting unloved in the back of the drawer. Definitely worth it.

So, here's the thing: Alexis needs to wear gowns at night. She can't do two-piece pajamas because just as the bottoms start to fit, the tops make her look like she's channeling Britney Spears in the bare belly days. I need to wear two-piece pajamas because me and gowns are not on speaking terms ever since that little incident with the bedpost. Alexis is OK with us wearing different types of pajamas, the fabrics just need to be matchy matchy.

Now, Target, you have made this little complication possible to overcome. The Nick & Nora pajamas are fantabulous, and I have managed to obtain three whole sets of Matchy Matchy Happy Happy Kid Pajamas. But, now that Alexis wants to match every. single. night we are experiencing a bit of an issue. We need more pajamas.

Sadly, you have exactly one set that will fit the bill right now. One is better than none, but that one? IS A UNICORN AND RAINBOW PRINT. *gag*

I can't do unicorns.

I can't do rainbows.

I DEFINITELY can't do them both at the same time.

So, will ya' please get some new Matchy Matchy Happy Happy Kid Pajamas in stock? I would be fine with sock monkeys, ducks, or even clouds. Anything but unicorns and rainbows. Just follow the above rules about gown vs. two-piece, and you can have my money.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

With much retail love,
The Lady Who Simply Can't be Caught Wearing Stuff She Liked When She Was Five


She's Got Moves. Unfortunately.

When Jen agreed to meet on Sunday to let our kids play together for a little while, I don't think she was expecting that she would need a protection order for her little boy, Dylan. She does. STAT.

Miss Alexis started out slow. A sideways glance here and there, a few location checks, but she kept coming back to me. Then we decided to relocate from the play area in the mall to the food court. This happened:

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Cute. Also, totally a "starter" move. Once we sat down to eat, Alexis moved in for the kill.

And again.

And again. And again. And again. And AGAIN. Seriously, I have fifty photos of my kid putting Dylan in a choke hold and then making out with the side of his face. And him enjoying it.

The good news is that I *think* Alexis was more "playing mommy" than she was hitting on the poor little guy. She was all about fussing at him that he couldn't run off while his mom was ordering food, and downright herded him back to us adults any time he tried to stray. At one point she even lectured him about "safe."

Don't try to argue with that little story I've built in my head. I either need to go with that, or look into investing in some crazy security system so I can lock Alexis is the basement for the next 20 years.

OK, 30 years.