princess meetup


“It’s Cinderella!”

This weekend, Fallon saw Cinderella dance on stage with some of her princess friends including: Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Belle, Ariel and Pocahontas. But the only one she noticed, the only one she saw, the only one she cared about was Cinderella.

“It’s Cinderella!”, she cried as she was jumping up and down pointing at the stage with excitement.

Hazel tried to correct her, telling her that it was Jodie but Fallon was not buying that…I mean big sisters sometimes do tell tall tales.

“It’s Cinderella!”

Do you want to meet Cinderella?“, I ask Fallon. Her eyes widened as she pondered the possibility that she could meet Cinderella! I get that. Cinderella has always been my favorite princess too.

Best!

Day!

Ever!

And Jodie, er, Cinderella came off stage and made her way to where we were sitting and knelt down and hugged Fallon…as a princess would do.

Sorry, no picture of that magical moment; but if you close your eyes…

See it!

Magic, is it not?

light and fluffy


Although Hazel has absolutely no patience while sitting in a very slow drive thru line at our friendly, neighborhood Starbucks with her Mima, she did discover this week that her hot chocolate is even more delicious with one pump raspberry syrup.

Inspired by The Lego Movie, which he has managed to see twice already, Daniel handled the assault to his senses during the dance preview creating this awesomeness with his Legos.

Meanwhile I found myself identifying with Tresa Edmunds here about living with our “magical burdens”.

Yes…blah, blah, blah…and laughing until I cried.

In other news, I sent off my submission to audition for Listen To Your Mother because dear Kizz encouraged me to try again because she thinks I have plenty of stories to tell.

Meanwhile this girl attended her first Stockton Thunder hockey game.

Truth be told, it actually was not her first hockey game. But this time she was not a sleeping, swaddled infant. No, she was right there cheering and yelling and people watching with her family. She probably liked it best because she could yell like crazy.

My daughter, Hollie Austa, is a pretty awesome person. One thing most parents wish and hope for is that their kids are better people than they are/were. Yes, she is a great mother. I’ve already talked about that. Today she just confirmed what I already knew about her (and her sisters and brother). She has a very kind heart. Not everybody would have come alongside someone to offer the kind of patience, kindness and help that she did for someone we know today. But my kid did. Proud of you Hollie!

And lastly, right now this is one of my favorite songs on my running playlists for so many reasons.

I don’t always listen to Gangsta Rap when I run.

for my little sister who is taller than me


Back in the day before Bill and I were parents and easily frightened by the epic meltdowns of small human beings enough to never ever want to have children ever, my sister was quite possibly the champion of epic meltdowns. Oh, and she could and often would take off running forcing her parents to give chase because really what is funnier than two panicked adults running all out after a preschooler with a good head start who is headed right towards a busy street or the end of a dock or any danger. I might have sworn off the notion of ever having children ever were I not already pregnant. Truthfully, my sister as a little one only scared me more about this whole thing that is parenting. Of course, by then it was too late for me…besides our little sister, yet to be born, would show us all how a meltdown should be done and then years and years later my grand baby, Fallon Elizabeth, would be the one to throw an epic meltdown like a Boss making all other tantrums truly weak.

But back to toddler Angela and her epic meltdowns…I recall one particularly epic one that took place soon after Bill and I arrived in Washington for a visit with my Dad, his wife and my little sister. As things started to calm and we all were together feeling awkward the way you do when someone’s kid has finally calmed down after a very public, loud, epic tantrum, my darling husband smirked just a little and quipped, “How ’bout them Seahawks?”…and the tension was gone as we all laughed just a little. Okay, fine, we laughed a lot because the Seahawks…really?!

But today, because my sister, who was raised in Washington, greeted me with a text message that proclaimed “Go Hawks!” and because the Seahawks showed up and played and won I will say…

How ’bout them Seahawks?!

Congratulations.

Better yet…how ’bout that Bruno Mars and the Halftime show??!! Really the only good thing about this Super Bowl XLVIII unless you are a Seahawks fan.

#thickhairproblems


I have thick hair. No, I have REALLY thick hair. I have the kind of thick hair where perimenopausal hair loss is no big deal; once you adjust to the fact that, no, you are not dying because although it is a lot of hair there is so much more on your head. I have the kind of thick hair that most hairstylists hate. At least I have been told that…by a few stylists through the years…except for the one who does my hair now…whom I gave birth to. Perhaps she doesn’t complain because of the fact that I am her mother.

Nah!

Come on! This is Hollie we are talking about! No, Hollie insists that although there is a lot of hair to work with there could be worse problems that a stylist can have…

Like maybe a toddler with super thick hair sitting in your chair?

Perhaps so.

Little Miss Fallon decided that she wanted short hair. Yes, little Miss Fallon Elizabeth with that epic, thick, gorgeous, strawberry-blonde hair. Where in the world would this girl with the gorgeous hair get an idea like that? Damned if I would know! Lucky for her she has a mama who is quite skilled at cutting and styling epic, thick, hair with a stubborn life of its own.

Unlike some of those less fortunate ones whose mommy dearests would literally scalp them because they had no clue how to cut and style epic, thick hair with double barrel cowlicks. The photographic proof through the years would make you weep. I know it did for me.

Oh why?!

As for this little pixie, she is lucky and very adorable.

And clearly she approves.

You’ll excuse me now while I go and make a little pillow stuffed with baby angel hair.

if you give a two year old an apple…


…she will LITERALLY eat the entire thing…core and all…because you did offer an apple and invite her to eat it. Next time qualify your invitation with “enjoy this red delicious apple until you get to the middle where the seeds are, okay?

Hey, at least she ate it unlike the delicious breakfast and lunch and dinner presented to her today.

Two year olds are grand, strange, little creatures aren’t they?