Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Weekend Review

In an attempt to cover up the last two posts of sheer raw emotion and anger I am going to let you in on what I did over the weekend.

Since the hubs called in sick on Saturday and Sunday, he was actually able to attend the family stuff.

So Saturday we went to his Aunt's luncheon, which was fun. I love spending time with family around the holidays. It is, after all, what it is all about, right!


Me and the muffin

Hubs and his auntie

Girly girls
My niece is a freak. I love her soooo much.

Then Sunday we got up and headed out to Sausalito to go to my work party. Even though it has been over two months since the last time I worked, we still thought it would be a great time. And it was.

A retired clown, aka Clown Shoes, painted the kids faces. There were balloons there and Rissa was hitting me with one of them, then turned and tried to hit Clown Shoes with the balloon. She had a smile on her face, so I thought she was joking when she was backing up, telling Rissa not to touch her with the balloon. When she fell and poured wine on herself I figured out that she was serious. Turns out that she is allergic to latex. Oops. My bad.

In my defense of my bad momming, I was seriously drunk. Taking two shots at a time will do that.

I had a great time, and the hubs and kids had a great time, too.

[I am thanking my lucky stars that he missed the part where I made a drunken fool out of myself, so he actually thinks I was pretty well behaved...]

The Under Side of The Golden Gate Bridge

Still has that barfy Stache. GG Bridge in the back

Here kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty

Some of mah peeps


On the way home from Sausalito we dropped the kids off at my Mom's house and went to yet another party. This one was at my BFF's Mom's house. It was an ornament exchange party, but the hubs and I neglected to purchase ornaments for exchanging, so we just hung out and had a good time.

There was dancing



All the while, I have been trying to collect my thoughts on the whole situation with my Dad. Unsuccessfully, of course. While he did lie to my Mom, which is inexcusable, he is really sick, and I had to avoid saying things that I will regret, so I am just pulling it together and moving on. I will call him in a few days. Thank you all so much for your concern. It really means a lot to me!

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Liar, Liar, Pants are on Fucking Fire

OK, so an update on my previous post:

My Dad is a fucking liar. No doctor told him that he only has a month to live.


No doctor.


This is just a feeling that he has. He is pretty sick, but as far as being diagnosed with cancer and having a month to live:

It was a lie, so that he could talk to my Mom.

I am still upset with my husbands reaction to it all, but kinda feel whatever about it now, because do you want to know what he did?

He called in sick to work for today and tomorrow and we were going to go down to Merced to visit my dad, who, apparently, is or is not, dying.

I am shaking, I am so livid right now.

How dare you lie to my Mom?

I Am Probably Going To Divorce You, And NO, I am NOT Kidding

All right. Maybe I just need someone to talk me down off this ledge, but I swear to all things Holy, I can not fucking stand my husband right now.

My Dad called me this morning and I was sleeping. Cal took a message and told him that I would call him back.

My Step-Dad just called me and told me that the kids called them this morning. Oh yeah, and as an after-thought he told me that my Dad also called them, too. My Dad just wanted to talk to my Mom. No surprise, although he never calls her, he always feels like he has something to say to her. He feels bad for being a shitty father, and for being a shitty husband to my Mom, forcing her to leave him when my brother and I were very young. Anywayssss. I asked my Step-Dad to give the phone to my Mom so I could see what exactly it was that my Dad said to her.

My Mom gets on the phone and tells me that my Dad called to tell her that he went to the doctor and was informed that he has cancer (not really a shock as he has had this horrendous tumor on his spine for quite some time). He has been given a month to live.

So while I stayed strong while I was on the phone with my Mom, I completely broke down as soon as I got off the phone with her.

The kids came running and were comforting me, asking what was wrong, and I told them.

My stupid dumb-ass heartless fucking husband came in and asked what was wrong. I was sobbing so hard, so the kids told him why I was crying.

At a moment when I could have used a hug more than anything else in the world, do you want to know what he did? He was like, "Oh, dang." Then he fucking turned around and opened the refrigerator, scavenging for breakfast.

He turned his back to get breakfast.**

As I am sobbing about the fact that my Dad has been given about a month to live.

He turned his back on me.

I will never, ever, ever fucking forget that.


**Then he got himself a cup of coffee, and went to the living room to play video games with the boy.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

How not to build a gingerbread house. A picture story.

We had to call in the big guns. Big Daddy was needed for some walling.

Maybe we should have used nails or Spackle?

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

Rebuilding a community takes a community.

Ugh. Finally. Time to attach the roof pieces. This only took 17 tries. (Side note: Look at big Daddy's mustache. Barf. He is in a contest at work. Again, BARF.)

Hurry. Add more Spackle frosting before the roof comes crashing down.

Finish frosting that sucker, gently, before it collapses, and add as much candy as you were provided with. (like how we tried to fix the broken corner at the top of the doorway?)

Frost the cute little gingerbread snowmen that were included in the package. Add candy.

Show off your life's morning's work for Mommy.

Please note that I KNOW these are my children. They felt gypped because there was no M&M's or any other chocolatey goodness included in the package. I, myself, was silently complaining about the same thing.

For now, the house is still standing, but I give it a day before all the candy has been eaten off of it.

Sidenote: Cal is not in as many pics because he would not wear the gloves that I gave him, and I'll be damned if I want his hand, foot, mouth disease all over the gingerbread house. He was only allowed to work on his little snowmen...

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Has Your Grama Ever Been Ran Over By a Reindeer?

The kids are watching some sort of Christmas movie on the boob tube right now, and the opening song was "Grandma Got Ran Over By a Reindeer". (OK, I just went and checked and they are actually watching "Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer")

Hearing that song always makes me giggle a little.

The part where they say, "You may think there is no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa, WE BELIEVE." is my favorite part, only because it confuses me though.

When I was in high school my Grama lived with us. I loved her dearly, and to this day, just thinking about her makes me choke up. She passed away 5 weeks after becoming a Great-Grandmother. I miss her so freaking much, but damn, she was ornery.

So here is where my confusion lies.

They believe in Santa because they saw the reindeer hoof tracks on Grandma's head?


That was a gift that only Santa could deliver to Grandpa?

Because I can imagine if this happened to me in 50 years, Big Daddy would play this song over and over and over, giggling like a madman!

Is It Getting Sick In Here Or Is It Just You?

Random photo.
This is how we swim in December: In Mommy's jacket

Yesterday was a pretty busy day.

The boy child was home sick from school, so I had to do super sneaky running around in the morning while he stayed home with Big Daddy.

Here was my plan: I was going to go to the WalMart that is on the way to my Mom's house, I was going to purchase Miss Riss's big Christmas present there, then I was going to take it to my Mom's house and store it in a storage shed in her back yard.

So, I go to the WalMart, search everywhere for this dang bike that I was sure they would have there, but didn't.

So I had to leave and backtrack all the way across town the WalMart wayyy closer to my house for this bike. The people in line were nice enough to let me go ahead of them, which was super awesome since I was on a time restraint. I had to take the bike to my Mom's house still, then I had to go back to my house, pick up the boy and take him to the doctor.

So I get the bike to my Mom's house, and she is NOT there, which really, should not have been a huge deal. I know how to open a gate. I can take the bike to the backyard by myself. So I get the chair from her front porch and I take it over to the gate, where I spend about 10 minutes trying to get that sucker to flippin' open, which it wouldn't. Then I decide to go to the fence on the other side of the back yard and just go the long way. Except that that stupid gate would NOT open, either. I was flustered and my fingers hurt from trying to finagle the damn latches open. I ended up just leaving the bike behind her garbage cans and called her house and told her to deal with it when she got home.

Thankfully when she got home, the bike was still where I left it, but I was pretty worried...

So I got back to my house and picked up Cal to take him to the doctor. We got there seven minutes late, but mostly because the entrance to the brand new parking garage was a nightmare.

[Dear Kaiser, Please work on that. thankyouverymuch.]

Anywayyyy, turns out the boy has hand, foot, mouth disease. The name alone makes me want to vomit...He still looks pretty normal though, so that is good, you know, aside from the bumps that cover his body, including the palms of his hands and the inside of his mouth. No wonder he could not talk on Thursday...poor kid. He was communicating with me via a white board. So pathetic.

Stickers: Proof that he went to the doctor

At 6pm we had to leave to go back to the kids' school for a Kindergarten performance at the PTA meeting. I love (heh) how all the parents think that they are the only damn person in the audience with a freaking camera and they just stand up in the front freaking row.


The sweet little Kinders were all dressed in their Sunday best. They worked really hard on their program, and they were super adorable performing. Of course, Miss Riss was the freaking cutest.

Hint: She is the only white kid in this picture

Can't really see my kid in this pic. Heh.

This blurry pic was too cute NOT to post.
Andddd..... a video. She is the fourth reindeer from the left.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

I Can Tell You Love Me

wtf Pictures, Images and Photos

Yeah, my friends, I had one of THOSE moments today.

I was aimlessly wondering around the store this morning, when my phone rang.

It was Big Daddy's aunt. Big Daddy. You husband for the past ALMOST EIGHT YEARS...

She is telling me of this lovely idea she has come up with to host a Christmas luncheon in her home in a couple of weeks, on a Saturday afternoon. I tell her that absolutely we will be there, but chances are good that Big Daddy will not be able to make it, since he works on Saturdays. I will come along with the children and it will be good fun for everyone.

You know what she says next???

Nope. You will NEVER guess, so I will just tell you.

"Oh, OK. How many kids do you have now?"

Me: Oh, uh, er. Still just the two.

Her: Oh. Right, right. I thought that maybe you might have had another one.

Me: Oh, haha. No. We are sticking with two.

Her: Huh. What are their names?

colorqm Pictures, Images and Photos

I tell her and she then asks how old they are, which is really no big deal, because how should she be expected to remember how old they are?

But seriously?????

How many kids do I have?

What are their names????


Photos courtesy of other peoples photobucket accounts. I think you can click on them or something to find out...

Sunday, December 7, 2008

I Turned 30 and People Came Over to Get Me Drunk

Random picture of my brother, because this was THE ONLY picture taken with my camera last night.


Last night was my birthday party and it was basically awesome.

There are ups and downs to hosting a party in your own home.

Ups: You do not have to make sure you have a designated driver and can drink as much as you want.

Ups: It is your pool and you can throw up in it if you want to.

Downs: The mess the next day is all yours to take care of.

I made these super cute cupcakey things, which can be found here.

I awoke to find my kitchen like this, so I did what any normal person would have done. I made myself a bloody Mary and headed to the couch to laze the day away.

Big Daddy sent the kids on a bottle hunt throughout the house and the back yard and now the only thing left to do is the dishes...There is always tomorrow.

I must go now. The couch is beckoning me. It longs to wrap me up in its warm, soft, cushy goodness.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Make Me Laugh Monday

I was going to save this post for Wordless Wednesday, but it requires at least a few words, and I am super impatient. I had to share this TODAY.

So I am participating in Make Me Laugh Monday.

The other night I was straightening up the house and I found this beautiful drawing. Immediately I thought..."What the hell?"

Remember in Superbad how the big kid draws pictures of peni (is that the plural for penis?)? (That was Superbad, wasn't it?)

I thought that is what was going on here.

I mean, that is what you think this is a picture of, right?

Wait for it...

Upon further inspection, I realized that I just have a really dirty mind. Not ten feet away from the drawing I found this...

Wait for it...

Drum roll please...

Ohhh, the suspense is killing you...

It is a melon baller, you sick freaks.

For more MMLM participants, please go check out Jenny on the Spot!

Saturday, November 29, 2008

The End Result of The End of an Era

I know you are all DYING to know how things turned out since I kicked the kids out of our bed.


Remember how I said that I am such a lazy sleeper and I do not have the energy to reroute the kids back to their own beds in the middle of the night?

Still true.

She is so sneaky, so sweet, and so cuddly.

Our bed is still not our own, but it was a nice thought, while it lasted...

What can I say?

I am a softy.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

You Are A Boob

A couple days ago I called my Mom to ask her what I should bring to her house as my contribution to the family's Thanksgiving dinner. She then handed the phone to my step-dad, who told me that I was not required to bring anything.

Tomorrow marks the thirtieth anniversary of the day my Mom became a mother. Also? The day I was born.

So I just kinda figured that I was not being asked to bring anything because I was getting off easy, since it is my birthday and all.

Today I called my Mom to double check that I am to bring nothing, and also to make sure that the only sweet offerings were not going to be Apple and pumpkin pie, since I am not a fan of either, and I would much prefer a cake, or at least a cheesecake to celebrate my birthday.

Turns out my step-dad is a giant boob.

I am still expected to bring the green bean casserole and the candied yams. And now my mom has to go to the store to buy me a cake. (That is what she gets for passing the phone off to him!)

So, my friends, I am off to brave the raging rapids, better known as the grocery store...Have you ever been to the grocery store the day before Thanksgiving? It is like trying to go to Target at 6am on black Friday...sheer madness.

Wish me luck!

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Sweetheart, you are not an athlete!

The internet is abuzz with this video. In case you have yet to see it, I have taken the liberty of posting it right here for you.

There are soooooo many things wrong with this. Watch it first, then let us discuss.

Did you watch it? Hahahaha. It is hilarious, no?

My favorite part was where she is talking about her six inch stripper heels giving her calves a great workout. Honey, doesn't your religion forbid you from even shopping in the store where you bought those????

A rose by any other name is still a rose! (or is it a thorn that I am thinking of?)

Stripper dancing Pole fitness in the Olympics? Lets get cheerleading to the Olympics, first. And the many other things that are considered sports.

Also? Is yoga in the Olympics? It seems like these hoes women want their athleticism in the Olympics, when what they are really doing is just a fitness regime. I do not see any real competition here.

And yes, I know some of you are worried that I am just making fun of them because they are Mormon, but I am not like that. I am so non-judgmental, so back up off me.

Scantily clad married Mormon women dancing on stripper poles?

What is your favorite part?

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Help! What is the number for 911?

I got this little story, I'd like to tell, about three people that you know kinda well. It started way back in his-tory...

OK, OK. I know, this is crazy. I am blogging twice in one day...

So earlier today I decided that since I was cooking dinner in a crock pot, and since every time I have used the oven lately the smoke alarm has gone off, and since tomorrow morning I have to bake some yummy treats for Rissa's class, that today would be a perfect day to let the oven clean itself.

I dutifully lock the oven, I turn it on to self clean and I walk away.

About an hour later Miss Riss walks into the kitchen (mind you I am five feet away) and I hear this: "Whoa my gawshhhhh. The oven is on fire."

I snort and tell her that, no, the oven is not on fire, it is just cleaning itself. I get up, walk over to the oven, and lo an behold, that mother fugger is ON FIRE!

I send the kids outside and run to my purse and grab my phone. Then I walk into the kitchen, turn off the oven and stare at the fire. I can NOT pull my eyes away.

Nor can I decide who to call. Do I call 911? It is not really a big fire. It is not coming OUT of the oven. It is only about a foot high and six inches wide. Should I call the fire department? What do I do? Do I call my Mom? 911?

Heh. I stood there and did NOTHING.

The fire went down, and eventually OUT.

I was flipping scared. The last thing I want is for my house to burn down...

Anywho. We are safe, but I am a little bit scared to turn on my oven tomorrow morning.

Edited to add: Apparently this happens a lot. Look at one of the FAQ's on GEs website. Also. When the hubs walked in the door from work he was pissed because the house stunk so bad. He scraped the gunk out of the bottom of the oven and turned it on again, which, apparently, is what you are supposed to do.
Also, I did not use any cleaning products, I just turned the oven on. Are you supposed to use that oven cleaner stuff? It stinks SO bad! I thought it was optional. Heh.

Love and Hate

On the list of things I hate, lets add finding unwrapped lollipops under the bathroom sink. K?

On the list of things I love, lets add when my kids act really goofy in front of the camera for me.

My Mom got both the kids these adorable jammies at that store where Paris Hilton thought they sell walls. To get them to light up all the kids have to do is...

I absolutely adore Seal's new music. I put it on and had Rissa dance. Um, she has no rhythm. At all. She gets that from her father. Cause y'all know I am a dancing queen... *snicker, snicker*

Cal got his jammies on and then would not let me get him on video. Oh well.

Happy Thursday. Oh, wait. What? Did someone say THURSDAY??? You know what Thursday is next week? No, piggy, I am not talking about Thanksgiving. IT IS MY BIRTHDAY!!! 7days till I am officially OLD, but not really OLD, just older...

Saturday, November 15, 2008

The End Of An Era

I have no problem admitting that when I am sleeping I am lazy. That is, after all, what sleep time is all about, right?

We have a monster-sized bed. I am not sure if it is a California King, or just a regular King, but still, it is huge.

For as long as I can remember the kids have always jumped into bed with us in the middle of the night. Cal does not do it as often anymore, but he does it on occasion. Rissa, on the other hand, does it EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. It is never really a huge problem, as long as she is sleeping in the middle of the bed. That way, I do not feel trapped in the middle, as I often do. I know that she is five years old, and really probably too old to be doing this, but like I said, I am LAZY! There is no way that I am going to get out of bed to walk her back to her room and explain to her that there is nothing to be afraid of...

Anywaysss. Yesterday morning Big Daddy woke up a little confused, really upset, and swearing.


He was sleeping in a puddle of pee.

It has been declared that Mommy and Daddy's bed is strictly for Mommy and Daddy now. No more monkeys sleeping in our bed.

I feel like an era has ended.

I also feel like I need to go out and buy a new matress topper. This one is tired of being peed on.

Do you let your children sleep with you? At what age do/did you make them stop? If you do not have kids, or you never let your kids sleep with you, how do you view me? Seriously, I want to know.
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Thursday, November 13, 2008

Temper Tantrums. Not Just For Children Anymore.

The hubs woke up not too long ago and the first thing out of his mouth was something along the lines of "What the heck happened here?"

My response? "Oh, I did that. I ran in to the door."

I am such a liar.

You want to know what really happened?

I was getting the kids ready for school and we were running late. Only about 5 or 10 minutes late, but still. Late.

I finish putting the girl's hair up in several ponies, she starts screaming and crying that they are too tight, and starts ripping them out. WE WERE ALREADY RUNNING LATE!

I storm off, because for some reason THIS IRRITATES THE HELL OUT OF ME and I could not control myself.

I run into the edge of the stairs, which happen to stick out about an inch and a half. My arm is throbbing. What transpires next is really pathetic.

The laundry "room" doors are bi-fold doors. They were both open. So picture me walking down my hall way, my arm throbbing, I am irritated because we are running late and the girl demon child is screaming about her stupid hair hurting. I am the super mature parent, so instead of calmly closing the laundry door, I push on it, in an attempt to get my point across that I am MAD. Instead of this having the effect I had hoped it would have, it had more of the Incredible Hulk effect. I pushed the door so hard that it BROKE off the hinges. The wood is splintered and the door is laying on the ground. So then I am pissed at myself for breaking my super cute door, so what do I do? I walk in to the kitchen and find the door to the garage wide open. With every ounce of force in my body, I slam that sucker. The walls vibrate, as does the refrigerator. I turn my back and pray that the things on top of the fridge do not come flying down and decapitate me. My prayers were answered, but should they have been? Jeez.

I needed a good spanking, it was clear.

How the hubs was able to sleep through all that, I have no idea.

On the way to take the kids to school I had my coffee in hand (no lid, of course, as is par for the day!) and as I am coming to a stop at a red light I dumped steaming hot coffee on my breasteses.

I totally deserved it. I know.

I am going to the gym now to work out some frustrations. Please, enjoy these pictures.

Be frightened.


I showed that door who is boss!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Eleven Years Goes By Really Fast When You Are Having Fun

July 13, 1997 I got fired from my job as a deli clerk at a grocery store here in Sacramento. I had been up for a couple days on a drug bender and slept through my scheduled work day.

Who knew that employers frown upon that kind of thing?

My Mom sent me to live with my Grama in the house behind my Aunt and Uncle's house in a small suburb of San Diego, called Santee. The first few days that I was there I spent 'coming down' off the drugs. Then I got bored and decided to go explore the city of San Diego. It was then that I learned that Santee was not-so-lovingly referred to as Klantee. I am so uncool with racism, bigotry, discrimination, and judgmentalism that I knew I had to get out of there.

I took a bus back to Sacramento, thinking that all would be good with my Mom.

She sent me on the next bus back to Klantee.

Shortly after, I got a call from my old drug dealer, saying that he, and a couple of my other buddies were IN San Diego.

I borrowed my Grama's car and drove out to where they were (drug dealer's girl friend's new apartment) and we hung out, ended up going out to Tijuana and stuff.

That was in August 1997.

A couple of months went by and Amy (drug dealers girlfriend) called me to see if I wanted to hang out.

I was bored stiff and had just got fired from Wal-Mart (for shit that I did not do), so I was super excited for the invite.

November 11, 1997 we ended up hanging out for a couple of days-straight through, learning about each other, and bonding. Telling stories. Stuff like that.

Had it not been for that one phone call 11 years ago, I have no idea where I would be (probably all strung out on Meth, living in a ditch somewhere, I reckon!)!

I moved in with Amy and her roommate, Kelley, just after Thanksgiving.

Amy is my best friend. She supports me in all that I do, encourages me to be a better woman, makes me laugh, and is a shoulder to cry on. We vacation together. Our children are best friends, and our husbands are BFF's, too.

Amy has since dumped the drug dealing boyfriend and has been married for over six years, with [almost] three year old twins.

Also? We don't do drugs, either, so rest easy.

Anyway, I sent Amy a text this morning that read: It is 11:11 on 11/11. Happy 11th BFF anniversary to the best BFF a girl could ask for. Why the hell are we not in Vegas? All those 11s!

It is true. Amy IS the best BFF a girl could ask for, even if I can not put in to such eloquent words exactly what she means to me. {A lot, trust me!}

Here are some photos to entertain you.

The first day of a fabulous friendship 11-11-1997

We are like models, yo! 1998

Modeling the Acura :) 1998

A more recent shot.

I need to get off the computer now, I have to feed the family dinner and take a shower, I have a date tonight, and it is not with my husband!

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Feed Me, Read Me

I have heard it time and time again, weight loss is comprised of 80% food/diet and 20% exercise.

Well, my friends, I pretty much have the exercise part down pat, as I have been going to the gym faithfully 5 days a week since [the end of] June.

I have not, however, changed the way I eat, not one single bit.

I have lost 12 pounds in the past 4. 5 months. At this rate, I will be at my goal weight in 3 years. Are you mother-lovin' kidding me?????

Sooooo, in an attempt to lose weight a little more steadily I am going to try to eat healthier. I may even go back to Weight Watchers. We'll see.

So, my dear friends. I have a proposition for all [5] of you!

Let's share recipes.

Leave, in the comment section, a HEALTHY recipe that I can try out on my kids and husband, too. If you have the nutritional facts, that would be even better.

Come on y'all, help a sistah out!

measuring girl Pictures, Images and Photos

Photo courtesy of ebaydigipete's photobucket

Speaking of the gym, I think that I may have actually NEVER talked about it on here. How is that even possible??? Some days my life actually revolves around going to the gym, when I can go, and what I am going to do there. Like on weekends, the kid care is only open until 3pm, so I have to make sure I go early.

There is a particular class that I absolutely love so SO much. Instead of me trying to explain it to you, why don't you just check out this short video. The class is called Zumba. Have you ever tried it? If your gym offers it, I urge you to give it a try, at least once. I love it.

I just watched this video and I almost could not resist. I just about got up and started dancing along with them. Haha.

OK, folks. What is your favorite healthy meal?
And what is your favorite exercise to do, either at the gym, or at home...

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Pretty Pretty Princessy Girl Stuff. With Boys.

While at Disneyland the plan was to take the kids to lunch with the princess in Ariel's Grotto at California Adventures.

I, being the cheap ass frugal Momma that I am, decided not to go. I did, however let Rissa go with her Aunties, Uncles, and cousins*...

I was there before they went in to the restaurant, and I was there when they got out of the restaurant. It is almost like I was actually there during the duration of the lunch though, what with all the pictures that Amy took.

Next time we go to Disneyland I am definitely going to shell out the $30 per person to go to this lunch. It looks soooo worth it.

And? Rissa totally behaved and ate all her lunch. She did not act up at all. It is going to be worth the money, just for that alone!!!

My computer is AMAZING me right now, as I upload these photos. When I take a picture on my camera it automatically rotates it. When I put them on the computer as soon as we got home from vacation they went back to being sideways and stuff. Everything was saved in our external hard drive as we dumped the computer. When he was making the computer all fresh and pretty he "upgraded" to Windows Vista, as opposed to the old Windows XP that we used to have. When I view my pictures in thumbnail size on the external drive folders, I see the pictures sideways. When I open them up and view them large, I see them the right side up. I was so sure that half of these pictures that I just loaded on to this post were going to make you have to turn your computer on it's side just to see them properly. What a nice surprise when they showed up on my post all right side up! Squeal!

Also? If you are wondering why Rissa is wearing a Belle dress and all the other girls are wearing Cinderella...I brought Rissa's Cinderella dress and told her to wear it. She INSISTED on wearing her Belle dress [for a second day in a row, since we went trick-or-treating the night before]. When we got to the lunch and she saw all the other girls putting on their Cinderella dress, then, and only then, did she tell me she wanted to be Cinderella...She got over it, but I am just saying, so you will know that she was in no way left out, nor was she deprived.

Without further ado, I give you...The Princess Lunch. (And a bunch of kids that are not mine. I hope their Mommy's do not mind!)

Snow White, Tora, and Rissa

Cinderella, HayHay, and Bree

Rissa, Cinderella, and Tora

Tora, Cinderella, and Rissa

Jasmine with HayHay, Mommy and Bree in the back

Jasmine and Rissa

Jasmine and Vin

Sleeping Beauty and Tora

Sleeping Beauty and Rissa

Sleeping Beauty and Vin

Tora, Rissa, Ariel, and Vin

Zorro, Bree, Ariel, and HayHay

HayHay and Zorro[not his real name]

Pretty Princesses ready for lunch

Tora, Bree, and Rissa
*Our adopted family. My BFF's family, actually, but we call them Auntie, Uncle, and cousins. They mean a lot to us, and our family would not be complete without them!