Daddy getting served at the . . . err. . . hot dog truck at the Galleria?
I’ve seen Ice Cream Trucks. . .
I’ve seen Taco Trucks (or, more accurately, Taqueria Trucks). . .
But I’ve never seen a Hot Dog Truck. 
Bonus Picture: The curly-curly effect of all of this rain:
We got home around lunchtime today, and as we were coming up the stairs, Ali was saying “Eat! Hungry!!”. I dropped her in the kitchen to play with her magnet letters for a minute while I went to my office in the next room and dropped off my shoes, purse, and mail and checked my email really quickly – what everyone has to do when they get home, right?
I got back in the kitchen (where she had been being really quiet), and found her standing very still next to the trash can with her back to me, doing something very intently.
Can’t be good.
I hurried over to see what she was doing, and discovered that she had managed to get an orange off of the kitchen table and was peeling it and putting the peelings in the trash!!
I guess she’s watched me enough to know how to peel an orange, but I was quite impressed that she had managed to break the peel with her teeny fingernails to get it started!
Here are the pics:
Putting the peelings in the trash:
Very intently peeling the orange:
Smelling the fresh orange blissfully.
This is how much she got done before giving it to me and heading over to try and get ANOTHER orange to peel.
I am proud of her that it occurred to her to try and be self-sufficient rather than whining! And obviously, I fed the child well for lunch!!
OK, I have gotten tagged twice (compliments of Jennifer and Amanda) in two weeks for this meme, so it’s about time that I get around to posting it!
Six Random Things About Me Mini-Blogs:
When I finally convinced my parents to let me get my hair cut for the first time (at 8 or 9 years old!!!), Dad agreed under one condition: That I promised not to date until I was 35 years old. I remember very clearly thinking “I’ll agree to that. He’ll never remember!!”.
Sure enough, when I got brave enough to remind him of our agreement (I made sure I was married first), he laughed but didn’t remember.
Moral: You’re younger than your parents. Chances are, you will remember things better than them, so be sure to use it to your advantage of it!! ;)
I know that I’m never going to be an awesome photographer, and I’m okay with that – I am just aiming to be the most THOROUGH photographer ever. They may not be great, but I’ll have a picture of everything!!!
I had the same cat from the time I was 3 years old until after I got married (although she stayed at my parents – not wise moving an old cat). As I mentioned before, I tend to pick at people when I’m bored. Apparently I also picked at my cat (mildly) as a child, or maybe she just didn’t like me dressing her up in my doll clothes and pushing her around in my baby stroller. At any rate, she put up with it, until nighttime came. I would be drifting off to sleep, seconds away from full snoozing, and she would run up, attack my legs, and run off.
I think her psychiatrist taught her that strategy to control her anger-management issues.
I am unhealthily unafraid of tornadoes (I say as the tornado siren goes off). I have tracked this back to my childhood and determined that this is my Mother’s fault, as she tells the story that she and I sat on the porch and watched a tornado come through our neighborhood when I was THREE YEARS OLD. This storm even knocked down a tree which put a hole in our roof.
But where were we? On the porch!!
Later in life I repeated this craziness, although a little safer, by watching a tornado come through Cahaba Heights from the double glass front doors at work.
I do not allow myself to drink caffeine after about 4pm to prevent it from keeping me awake (believe me, it will!).
This really stinks, but at home I am able drink Caffeine Free Coke or Tea. I really hate water. But out and about, caffeine free options are quite sparse. Usually the only caffeine free option is Sprite, which I think is ridiculous. I hate Sprite, as it tastes like Alka-Seltzer cold medicine, but often I would drink it if it was my only choice. However, recently, I have resorted to actually drinking WATER with dinner because Sprite is so awful.
WHY don’t they have Caffeine Free Cokes on fountain?!? You can’t even buy them at a gas station!!! I can’t be the only person in the world with consumer need just waiting to be met.
I have an odd fear of tagging people in things like this meme and/or sending chain letters, recipe chains, etc. because I am afraid to annoy people (even though I’m not annoyed by the chains). BUT I also don’t like not responding when tagged/mailed, again, for fear of hurting the originator’s feelings or making them feel like they annoyed me (which as I said, does not happen). So I will usually do my part without continuing the chain.
For instance: once, my Grandmother sent me the most random chain letter I’ve ever gotten – a DISH TOWEL chain letter. You were supposed to send a dish towel to one person, and then send the letter to six more people, and you would end up with like 36 dish towels or something. Handy, huh? Who doesn’t need 36 dish towels?
Well, because I didn’t want to disappoint my Grandmother but I also didn’t want to send it to my friends, I sent her 6 dishtowels in 6 different (unmarked) envelopes representing the 6 people that I didn’t send her letter to, along with sending my required one dishtowel to the person in line before her. I don’t know if my Grandmother ever realized that she got six dishtowels from me. . .
So obviously, due to #6, I will not be tagging people on this meme like I was supposed to do. Jennifer and Amanda, please find it in your heart to forgive me and chalk my non-continuing up to a quirk. And if I need to mail you some dish towels in unmarked envelopes to make it all better, let me know.
I have been using Ali’s progress with her favorite book, her ABC book, as somewhat of a “growth chart” for the past couple of months, and I think that this will be the last installment on this measurement, unless she starts singing the ABC song or something.
Here are her previous episodes:
June
July
And here is the August episode – season finale!!
(As usual, please forgive the horrible one-girl videography and the bad angle. You’re just lucky that the cat didn’t jump right in front of the camera like she did last week when I was trying to record this!!)
Keep your eyes out for next season: Numbers!!
Ali is so much like her Daddy in every way. People say that she looks like him (even though I think she has more of my facial features), she is so very careful like him, and she loves her alone time like he does.
I was bemoaning this fact to Chris the other night and said, “I can’t think of one personality trait that she has that’s just mine yet. Can you?” And he couldn’t think of one either.
But I finally have found a characteristic that she got from me: mischievousness!!
My Mom always had to keep me busy when I was a kid or I would pick on my brothers out of boredom (See?? That’s why I stay so busy now!!).
I have always loved playing practical jokes (the red kool-aid in the shower head on our missions trip, although not original, sure was fun when Mrs. Hayes got in the shower!!).
And I love messing with people’s quirks.
For instance, Chris’ Aunt Kitty, being much like Chris, is particular. If you move something half an inch, she knows. I learned this early on in Chris and my dating relationship, and caught onto the game of “turn Kitty’s figurines around and see how long it takes her to fix them” and took it to a whole new level. I probably drove her crazy.
Well, payback is fair game, I suppose.
I charge my cell phone every night via a surge protector in our dressing room. Ali is just barely tall enough to reach the on/off switch on the surge protector. For a while she played with it, and I let her because I would always hear what she was doing and remember to switch it back.
But she’s really upped her game now. I think she’s caught on that I always fix it and therefore it must bug Mommy, and so she’s gotten sneaky. She doesn’t play with it anymore (and thereby call attention to it), but once a day she manages to sneak it off without me even seeing her. For the last four or five nights in a row when I go to plug in my cell phone, it hasn’t worked. I almost haven’t realized the surge protector was off a couple of times, and “not” charged my phone all night.
On Saturday, I happened to see her out of the corner of my eye. She’s getting really quick at it, and when I saw her, she tried to act all innocent. Now remember, I haven’t told her she can’t do this – she’s just messing with me!!
Yes, Ali got my mischievousness. What a good trait to get!! :D
Watching the Olympics every day for two weeks brings up a plethora of questions, interesting conversations, stories about childhood, and issues to talk about, doesn’t it?
Here is one of mine and Chris’ deeper Olympic-birthed conversations, and we need an answer to the burning question that came from it!!
You know the song, right?
But Chris vehemently disagreed and said that he was taught that:
Red = Chinese, and
Yellow = Mexicans.
Now, we need to get this cleared up before Ali starts asking us what people are red and what people are yellow!! So, please, let us know what you were taught so that we can correctly teach our daughter racial generalizations just like all of us were!
Or is this song just “right out” with today’s political correctness?
For all who have been following the Eli story line of my soap blog opera, Eli has spread his wings and now has his own blog! Or rather, Lindsay has one. But I have a slight suspicion that Eli will make a lot of appearances there. You can find their stories and pictures here. I will still continue to have pictures of the little man here also from time to time, but be sure and check out his new home in the blogosphere!!
Congrats, Lindsay!!!
I’m terrible about toenail upkeep. I let my toenail paint get completely chipped in every direction before I sit down and paint them again. This morning was one of those mornings. So while Ali was eating her breakfast (I sometimes find that she eats better if I’m not sitting across from her, staring at her), I decided to remove my old toenail polish and start over.
She, of course, was much more fascinated with what I was doing than in eating. While I was vigorously scrubbing my toenails to get the old, pitiful polish off, she was using her powers of deduction to figure out what I was doing.
“Oh. . . Mommy Cleaning Piggies!!”
And when I finished, “Piggies all clean!!!”.
Then I pulled out the fingernail polish. Even more mesmerized. She watched as I painted, and told me how pretty they were when I finished.
After she finally finished eating her now cold breakfast, she started pointing to my toes and then her toes and saying, “Mommy’s piggies – Ali’s piggies???”
So, always being up for an adventure, I decided to give it a try.
I explained to her that she had to sit very still, and that she couldn’t touch them for a minute because they would be wet.
I secured the area with much floor coverage and had a roll of toilet paper standing by to wipe up any catastrophes.
Surprisingly, she followed my instructions to a T. She was completely absorbed in watching me paint her toes, and she kept reminding herself throughout the process, “no no touch – wet”.
Of course, she LOVED them. She couldn’t have been happier!
Here she is examining my artwork:
Telling me about her pretty piggies:
Daintily posing her feet:
And here’s our piggies together. Ugh. How is it that I can wear three times less sunscreen (15 spf as opposed to her 45 spf) and get three times less tanned than she does!?!? I guess she just got the best of both of our tanning genes: My Greek ones and Chris’ Callahan ones (have you NOTICED the pictures of Chris’ Dad and Aunt?!?!). Oh well.
After our piggies were appropriately painted, we went to the zoo and lunch with Ashley and AJ. The girls, of course, had a wonderful time as usual.
We were all four holding hands in a long row walking through the zoo, and Ali was practicing her “jumping” (she tries so hard to jump like AJ can, and she thinks she is – she’ll squeal “jump!!” and run fast or pick up one foot and then the other). She would say, “Ali Jump!” and jump, then “AJ Jump” and AJ would jump, then “Mommy Jump!” and I would jump, then “Ashley Jump!!” and Ashley would jump. She had a blast telling us all to jump and watching us jump at her command – and we didn’t even ask how high!!
After lunch, they kissed bye-bye for the first time, and Ali was so excited. She kept saying, “a kiss! a kiss!” over and over.
Here they are holding hands and watching the flamingoes:
After Ali’s afternoon nap, I needed to fix her pigtails, as pigtails rarely survive a nap without major damage. We were sitting in her chair as I was trying to fix them, and she’s pointing to her bible and saying Read bible! Read bible!” Being the overly task-oriented person that I am, I said “Hold on! Let me fix your pigtails! THEN we’ll read the bible.” Realizing how absurd that sounded, I muttered under my breath, “Because THAT’S where our priorities need to be. . .”
So to sum up, my Lessons in Mommyhood today included: it is easier to paint a toddler’s piggies than it is to put pigtails in their hair (especially when they are insisting on spiritual pursuits, of all things!!), and toddlers love it when you jump at their command!
Ali is to the point now where she will repeat ANY word (and sometimes phrases) that we say, and will especially repeat any word (and sometimes phrases) that we tell HER to say.
Sometimes (I would dare say even most of the time), they come out as clear as a bell, like the other day when she told me “I’m going to miss you!!”. Other times, they sound like something completely different, but still as clear as a bell.
And anytime there’s a “clear as a bell” mispronunciation, it is always amazing that it is not just some innocent sounding mispronunciation. No, it always seems to be crude.
Between the words eyes, salt, fork, purse, bench, sit, shirt, and clock, Ali has quite the amazing vocabulary of seemingly not-such-ladylike-language.
Plus, she added a new one last night that includes one of my least favorite words in the English language. At dinner, we told her to say “I’m Smart!”, and she looked up at us beaming at this compliment and started repeating “I fart! I fart!!” over and over.
Clear as a bell, of course.
And loudly.
Of course, it doesn’t help that anytime anyone hears her say any of these words, they laugh.
Thanks, guys.
And don’t be blaming me if I made you think of all sorts of dirty words. YOU’RE the one who had to go and figure out what it sounded like she was saying. At least you don’t have to hear them all multiple times a day.
The last couple of days, I’ve been starting to feel on the inside as if it is the beginning of Fall. I am not sure why – it’s certainly not due to the temperature. Maybe it’s that the leaves are starting to fall, or that I had my first cup of Starbucks in what feels like years (or at least since last Winter), or that it’s almost football season. Which is another subject entirely.
Anyway, I love Fall. I also love Spring. I love them both because they bring newness. Summer is just a more severe version of Spring, as Winter is to Fall, but the other two seasons usher in completely opposite temperatures that their predecessors. That’s why I love them. I always feel an excitement inside as it is starting to turn.
That is, until the time changes, then I have an unbelievable loathing for whoever created Daylight Savings Time. Until the time changes back, when I love them with all my heart. This dichotomy is due to the fact that I don’t know which time is right and which one is due to their scheming. So I love them half the year and hate them the other half of the year. Whoever “them” is. I guess it’s best that I don’t know.
So football. It starts NEXT WEEKEND. I’m just not ready. We go to most of the home Alabama games every year (Chris’ family has been attending together since he was 13), so football takes up nearly every weekend for the whole fall. It’s fun and exciting, but it’s a LOT. Especially since we usually get to Tuscaloosa around 7am.
Yes, SEVEN A.M.
EVEN if the game isn’t until SIX P.M.
I don’t even know what time we have to get up to get to Tuscaloosa at 7, as I have a standing agreement with Chris to wake me when he thinks I need to be woken but don’t tell me what time it is so that I don’t get cranky. And I even avoid looking at clocks, again, to prevent crankiness about being up so early.
Anyway, usually I am ready for a new season towards the end of the summer, and ready for it to be OVER halfway through October. But this year I just don’t feel ready yet.
Luckily, the first game comes with a special treat – it’s in Atlanta, so waaaay back in January when they announced it’s location, Chris reserved us a couple of nights in a fancy Atlanta hotel (one of my favorite treats) and arranged with my Mom to keep Ali, so that I get a special “Atlanta Date” out of the first football game of the season. So that will be fun. Hopefully my “football spirits” will be reawakened next weekend.
If you are thinking right about now that we are being frivolous by staying in a fancy hotel, I would just like to throw out the justification that fancy hotels are extremely cheap in Atlanta. There are so many that high supply equals much lower prices (that tidbit of Economics was a freebie from me to you). One time we compared how much it would cost for gas + hotel in Atlanta to just hotel in Birmingham, and it was still significantly cheaper to go to Atlanta.
Back to my football spirits, or lack thereof. If the trip to Atlanta doesn’t work, I guess I’ll have to resort to the one thing that can always get a girl in the mood for something: go shopping for clothes related to it. Yup, Ali and I will have to get some new Alabama gear for the season to help it be more exciting.
Not “Bama” gear, Alabama gear. “Bama” sounds waaaay too redneck to wear. At least to me it does. Last night I was telling Chris that Ali and I might need some new gear, and he said “yup, you need some new Bama gear”, and I said “no, I don’t like ‘Bama’.” And he said that he knew this about me and that he had always figured that it was too redneck for me. I never realized that about myself (I hadn’t even had the conscious thought that I didn’t like “Bama” gear, I had just avoided it), but wholeheartedly agreed. Good thing I have Chris around to inform me of the reasons why I don’t like things.
This has been more rambly than my usual posts. Is it annoying if I ramble every now and then? AND don’t even have pictures to go along with my rambling?
Oh well. I’ll try to be more entertaining on my next post.
8/22 Editor’s Note: After reading this post, my good friend Deidre frantically scrounged around to find a “Bama” shirt to wear to small group last night. Thanks, Deidre! :)