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Mall Day
Yesterday we didn’t have anything scheduled to do. This hasn’t happened in a while so I decided to live on the edge and ask Bug what she wanted to do. Go to the mall! she exclaimed excitedly, like going to the mall is equal with Disneyland or something.
What is she a teenager already? What kind of kid wants to go to the mall when they are four? She’s crazy. Thankfully, I realize that going to the mall does not require spending money so I was open to the idea. Sure, we could walk around and look at things, maybe spring for lunch at the forbidden McDonalds and if I’m feeling super generous, I’ll let her ride the carousel for a buck. Not a bad day’s entertainment really.
Then we found out that Toby was shooting some store fronts at the mall too. Hot dog! We could have a Take Your Daughter to Work Day. We hardly ever get to follow Toby around on his shoots because they are usually in super luxury homes with rugs you can’t walk on and breakable objects every where. Besides we don’t like to get in his way. At least I don’t.
However, Toby was happy to have us come with him. Mall shoots can be tricky for him. Even though he wears a big press pass, has a super official looking camera and all the security guards on his side, he still worries that the shopping mall customers are going to get weirded out by him taking pictures of them. He doesn’t actually take photos of the customers. He photoshops them out on the computer afterwards but there will always be some woman who thinks he’s taking a photo of her and it causes problems. So having your wife and kid along can cut down on the weirdo perviness factor.
Also, he just loves his little princess. She has him wrapped around her little finger. You think I spoil her? Well Toby is even worse.
He bought her a stupid ten dollar balloon. TEN DOLLARS! I know! What a rip off. It better light up, glow in the dark and serve you a hamburger in my opinion. Well, it does light up. And it is super big and supposedly un-poppable which is a total lie since the outer clear balloon popped and scared the crap out of us as soon as we got into my steaming hot car to go home.
Ugh. I hate that balloon. It’s so big and constantly in my face. She has bopped me in the head on purpose and not on purpose about a thousand times. I feel like having a punching match with that balloon. I might have to take an exacto knife to it in the night and say the fairies stole it.
But it made her happy and it made Toby happy and it was strangely photogenic in the mall which made me happy. Which is sort of the same way I feel about that silly pink puffy skirt that she’s been wearing for a month straight now.
I hate it and I desperately want to wash it but it does look cute in photos, I have to admit. It also gets us special treatment. You should hear the things people say to her when we’re out and about. Her pinkness this and her highness that and, oh look at the pretty princess etc etc etc…No wonder she doesn’t want to wear anything else. She’s getting used to this and she really does believe she is a princess. Which makes me the evil non-stepmother who makes her wear ugly non-pink clothes, clean her room and who also won’t buy her expensive balloons that don’t even come with a coupon for a free hamburger!
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In other news, I’ve been writing away over on my review blog and I’ve been terrible about touting my posts here. Please go check them out because seriously, I get to give $100 away a week! This week I’m writing about my early bird secrets! Do you have any? Comment and win some mulah!
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She’ll Be One Hellacious Teenager Someday
I remember when Bug was really really little and she’d show some sign of being willful or naughty, I’d smile. I had this terrible superstitious fear, deep down, that she was too perfect and that meant she was like an angel and would probably be taken from me. Isn’t that how the stories always go?
I don’t know why I felt like that. Maybe it’s rooted in the time my Guess Jeans that I loved so much got stolen out of my locker during gym. I know the value of a child and jeans are not really the same but I always feel this way about things that I love so much. Sometimes I don’t even want to put my laptop in my car because I’m afraid that I’ll get in a wreck and I’ll lose Bug, my laptop and my car all in one fell swoop. It’s ridiculous to be me inside my loopy brain.
Sometimes when I look at Bug and find myself getting lost in her big beautiful eyes, her blonde cascading hair and her perfectly little bouncing crazy body, it’s too much for me. How did I ever get so lucky to have her? I don’t deserve her! I expected so much less and God gave me so much.
But then the other foot falls and I realize God knew exactly what he was doing. He gave me the most stubborn, evil, drama-queen, devil-child who will eternally exasperate me beyond words. She might look sweet but try forcing her to eat a bite of perfectly delicious strawberry yogurt (that she picked out at the grocery store herself!) and it will turn into an hour-long, snotty, crying, freight train of emotions that can only be saved from complete and utter bloody ruin by eating a bowl of hot buttered noodles in the tub.
I’m so tired. How will I ever make it to her teens?