What a weekend!

Our weekend started bright and early Saturday morning, getting up and ready to go to the Christmas Parade.  My dad, Aunt, and Uncle got there before us, and saved us spots.  We had a great time, even though by the end of the parade, we were freezing.  Tori had a blast, and got lots of candy and beads.  Of course, when my mom asked her later about the parade, all she had to say was, "The horses pooped!"  I took lots of pictures with my new camera, and I think it did a great job.

Later Saturday evening, we were on our way home from Wal-mart, and drove past some paintings on the side of the road.  Tori, looking out the window, says, "Mom!  Some of those paintings are paintings by Van Gogh!  Look, it's the 'Night painting'."  I looked, and sure enough, one of the paintings was a copy of 'Starry Night'.  Now, I know that she has the 'Baby Van Gogh' DVD, but for her to remember that painting and be able to recognize it from a moving vehicle, in near-darkness...?!  I...just don't know.  And when I asked her how she knew that, the first thing she said?  "'Cause I'm smart."

Fun with ice (or, guerilla warfare with frozen projectile missiles)

So my dad had this idea last year to leave the sprinklers on at night, when it was going to freeze.  Wow.  The result?  A really, really cool ice patch.  Especially since the grass in the garden area is pretty high.  Icicles and crystals everywhere.  We all had a blast playing in it last year, so he decided to do it again this year.  Last night was the night.  This afternoon, we frolicked in a wintery wonderland!  Well, right up until Tori and her Grampa formed an unholy alliance and started an all-out ice war!  Ice was chucked, bruises were received (okay, that one might be just me), and the battle raged on!  Or, at least until I couldn't feel my fingers.  So I did what any brave combatant would do in the face of out-numbered danger...I ran and hid behind my mommy.  My strategy was that my dad couldn't possibly be foolish enough to throw ice towards her.  Yeah.  Not so much.  He threw, she glared, and the two of us declared surrender and went inside to thaw out, leaving the two frostbite-loving lunatics out there to turn on each other.

For more pictures, check out the family album.

On a completely unrelated note, Tori, instead of going to sleep, is in her bed singing 'Funky Town'.  Whoever taught her that song, rest assured...some day, somehow, I will get you for this.  *Headdesk*  Peace out!

Junior Detective

So, Tori and I decided we wanted some sunflower kernals.  One problem.  Jimmy put them 'away' last night, and we didn't know where.  I had just sat down, so I really didn't want to get back up to lead a search across the entire house.  Tori says, "Well, I'll just look for them, then."  I told her good luck, and sent her on her way.  She replies, "Don't worry, mom.  I'll find 'em.  I'm a good de-tective."  Okay.  Wait...what?  Where'd she get that?  Then she continues with, "Remember when I found your car at the store?"  Ah.  Now I get it.  We were at the grocery store, and I couldn't remember exactly where I parked.  Tori spotted the car, and I told her she was a good detective.  But how?  How does she remember these little, one-off comments like that?  So now, she's telling everyone she's a 'good detective'.  I just have one question.  If she's such a good detective, how come she can't seem to find her bed at bedtime?  Actually, it is almost bedtime, so I'm off to get 'jammies on and teeth brushed.  Wish me luck.  Peace out!

Cold. Very, very cold.

So, winter is upon us.  Well, as close as 'winter' gets to Florida, anyway.  We've dug out the sweaters, sweatpants, coats, hats, and scarves.  And boots.  Can't forget the boots.  There's only one problem with this whole thing.  Tori, being a little kid, wants to go outside and play, and she doesn't plan to let a little thing like freezing stop her.  The rest of us, being Floridians, have no intentions of leaving our nice, warm houses for anything other than a quick run to the nice, preheated car.  Now, this poses a bit of a problem.  Tori just doesn't understand why the rest of us care so much about 'being warm', and 'not getting frostbite'.  She doesn't care about all that; she just wants to play on her swings, and we're all a bunch of meanie-heads for making her stay inside. 

Tori:  Mo-oooommm, can I play at my play yard?
Me:  Are you outta your cotton-pickin' mind?  It's freezing out there!
Tori:  But I want to!
Me:  No, sweetness.  It is way too cold to go outside right now.  Mommy doesn't like cold.
Tori:  But I do, and I'm going to my play yard.  (By this time, she's at the door, turning the knob.)
Me:  Freeze!  Step away from the door.  We are not going outside.
Tori:  (Cue tantrum)

I predict that this will be a daily occurrence during whatever cold season we have this year.  Peace out!

Out of Tune

Tori was in the living room with her dad, and she was playing her little guitar.  She said she was going to play guitar for her band.  Then, she got frustrated, because the tuning was off.  So she's strumming, and she says, "Well, I guess this sucker ran outta tune."

Cut to a little while later.  She comes into my room and asks me to tune it for her.  I do so, and she starts pushing on the strings.  Here's the conversation that followed:

Me:  Tori, don't push on the strings like that.  That's why it keeps going out of tune.

Tori:  No, it isn't!  I just play it to much, and then it runs out of tune.

Me:  I am so blogging this.

What am I supposed to say to that?

So, bedtime has become somewhat of an issue lately.  Tori uses every excuse she can think of to avoid it, and boy, can she think of excuses.  Tonight, she didn't want to go to bed, because, "I have to help Dora get through this forest."  (A game on her computer.  Yeah.  She's more computer literate than my mom.  Not that that's saying much, but still.)  So I told her that was the wrong answer, and that the right answer was, "Yes, Mommy.  I'm going right now."  Tori doesn't even miss a beat, and fires back with, "Well, the wrong answer is 'No, I'm doing my computer,' and that's what I'm telling you."  Seriously?  What do you say to that?  Then, her dad tells her she can play for a few more minutes, so that's that.  Until... her computer messes up.  She turns to him and says, "Dad, this stupid thing's not working.  Fix it."  He tells her he can't.  She promptly responds with, "Well, that's because your brain is dead.  Your batteries musta died."

Where in the world does this kid come up with this stuff?  She's only four!  Seriously, some of the stuff that comes out of her mouth just blows me away.  We have church tomorrow, so I'm sure I'll have more to blog about after that.  Peace out!

What to do with a preschool diva?

So, yesterday when I picked Tori up, her teacher had another 'Tori story' for me.  Oh, boy.  Tori's group was supposed to be playing with puzzles, at the table.  Tori didn't want to play at the table.  Oh, no.  She was sitting on the floor, throwing the puzzle pieces around.  Teacher tells her she needs to sit at the table, or whatever.  Tori yells, "No!  I don't want to do that!"  Long story -- er -- short-ish, she ends up sitting in the office for a while, then tells her teacher that she's better, and that she "threw the bad attitude away, outta my head."  *sigh*

Also, she was apparently the instigator in an incident where she ended up getting her whole group of friends to start saying they were going to 'tell on' the teacher.  To whom?  No clue.  So we had a little chat on the way home, but she'll find a loophole.  She always finds a loophole.

Time to pick her up.  I'm sure I'll have more to blog about, later.  Peace out!

Accidental Art (or Yeah, I totally meant to do that)

So yesterday, we were decorating the Christmas tree at my parents' house.  I was playing around with my little point-and-shoot camera, trying to get a clear, no-flash shot of the tree with the lights on.  In the dark.  Eh...it didn't work too well.  Blurry, dark, yucky.  So I started messing around with the ISO and exposure settings, which is about all you can adjust on that camera.  I snapped a pic, and noticed that the lights were blurred in a very interesting way, due to a little movement at the time of shutter release.  So I started purposely moving the camera, just as I released the shutter.  Wow.  The result was this:

 And this:

 And this:

Pretty interesting results, considering I discovered the technique by accident.  Peace out!

Recipe Break!

Herb Chicken with Potatoes

1 whole cut-up chicken (or package of breasts)

1/2 cup Olive oil

Rosemary

Basil

Thyme

Sage

8-10 Red potatoes

Preheat oven to 350°.  Wash chicken, and place it in a baking dish.  Cut potatoes into fourths, and place in baking dish, surrounding chicken.  In a measuring cup or small bowl, mix olive oil and herbs.  Brush oil mixture over chicken and potatoes.  Bake, uncovered, for 1 hour.  

This is a fairly simple meal, but my family loves it.  It's good served with green beans and dinner rolls or croissants.  Enjoy!

This recipe break has been brought to you by:  the cows.  Eet Mor Chikin.

Early one Morning...

Tori:  I don't wanna!
Me:  Tor, you have to get dressed for school.
Tori:  No!  I wanna watch 'Risty cats! (The Aristocats)
Me:  We don't have time for this.  Come here and get your clothes on.
Tori:  No!  (Runs off)  I don't wanna go to school!
Me:  Okay, fine.  But Grandma was going to take you.  Guess I'll call her and tell her you don't want to go.
Tori:  Weeeeellllll...I guess I do want to.
Me:  Works every time.

Seriously, every. single. time.  Ah, bribery.  A mom's best friend.  And no, I'm totally not above fighting dirty to get her dressed and out of the house.  Hopefully, there will be no screaming matches at school today, but if there are, at least I'll have something to blog about.  Peace out!

A highly insulted four year old...

Tori's teacher tells me today that she was yelling at one of her friends this morning.  Turns out, Tori took offense to the fact that the little boy called her a -- wait for it -- 'poo-poo diaper head'.  Folks, you cannot make this stuf up.  *sigh*  So, we had a talk about what would've been a better way to deal with the situation, and we've agreed that the next time someone calls her a poo-poo diaper head, she's just going to ignore him.  And if that doesn't work, she'll quietly tell the teacher.

Of course, I also told Tori that if poo-poo diaper head was the worst thing she ever got called in life, she'd be doing pretty good.  Oh, to be a preschooler!

Coffee is my friend

Ask any parent who must get up at the crack of too flippin' early, and they'll tell you:  Coffee is good.  Very, very good.  Tori is only four, and even she knows that coffee is good.  On mornings when we're running late, and I don't have time to make coffee, she can tell that I'm not as awake as usual.  Just this morning, in fact, she looked at me and said, "Mama, you really shoulda drinked some coffee.  That way, you wouldn't be all tired and stuff."  I kid you not.  Did I mention the little rugrat's way too observant?

At any rate, I'm always searching for new and yummy ways to partake of my morning coffee.  In my quest for yummy goodness, I have discovered a gem.  Coffee with butterscotch syrup and whipped cream.  Or, for those of you who, like me, drink coffee in the evenings, too (or don't mind drinking alcohol at six in the morning) Butterscotch Schnapps is really good in coffee, too.

Oops.  Gotta go.  I'm out of coffee.  Time to put on a fresh pot.  Peace out!