Thursday, December 18, 2008

No guns, no roses

Driving home from Target today, I was in bumper-to-bumper traffic due to a tractor trailer crash on a main road. The normally 10 minute drive took 45, and to keep my sleepy toddler awake until we got home, I was playing the radio and dancing along, which she loves. She danced to Britney Spears, Nickelback, Katy Perry, Kanye West (which was funny to watch), and so on. Then, "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N' Roses came on. I was dancing in the front seat and lip syncing along (I was born in the '80's, after all) and about mid-way through the song, I glanced back at Addison to see if she was still dancing. Much to my surprise, she had both of her index fingers in her ears and was glaring at me.

Needless to say, I abruptly changed stations. I guess even old Axl Rose isn't for everyone.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

The Misrepresentation of Popeye

My daughter has turned into a cartoon.

For the last several weeks, every time Addison is mad, annoyed, tired, confused, hungry, thirsty, bored, or breathing, she makes this face. The first time I saw it, I said "she looks like Popeye, how cute." Now, the comparison has become a verb, as in "Addison, stop Popeye-facing me!"

In this photo, she is upset because I finally got a cabinet lock for the "dry goods" cabinet; I had tired of finding packets of oatmeal in my dresser drawers and boxes of pasta in my closet. You can see, however, that this does not create a shortage of toys for my little princess... there are 3 visible in this photo, which represents only about 4-5 square feet of space (I'm not counting the white item as a toy-- that is her potty, which she had relocated from the bathroom to the kitchen for a reason she refused to disclose.)

Cute as it was a few weeks ago, Popeye-face now makes me instantly fantasize about jumping through the nearest window and/or stabbing myself in the eye with a fork. I am hoping that it suffers a hasty demise, going the way of potato-face (her former "I'm going to cry" expression) and "the flying v" (her pre-walking habit of holding her feet up by her ears while in the stroller. In public.)