Posts Tagged ‘superheros’

Pinkified……..

March 30, 2011

Glamour Rayz is the essence of girly.  The pinker, shinier, the frillier, or sparklier(making up words, yes.), THE better. Whirling Dervish was once like her sister, and in fact started out über pinky with pink undies, pink socks, pink shoes, pink shirt, you get the idea. But now WD is girly in a funky sort of way, tom boy with pizzazz.  I, having been a tom boy growing up, and still am in a lot of ways, have had to get in touch with my inner Pink. Woo.

Believing that everyone should embrace pink the way she does, from time to time Glamour will strike, catching her victims unaware, inflicting her pinkness on anyone or anything in her path…..

The poor blue M&M had done nothing to deserve this. He didn’t stand a chance.

Last Sunday, she caught Butter Face.  He didn’t know what hit him.  After the carnage wrought by Glamour’s birthday party last weekend (see 8 Year Olds post, please), Big Daddy and I had parked it in the livingroom to continue our marathon of March Madness viewing.  Glamour skips by, down the hall to her room, then shoots back by on her way downstairs.  She gives me a quick, “Doot, duh, doot, doot, doo, hey Mom,” in her Mini Mouse voice. “Hey, chicken” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the TV.

A few minutes later, Butter Face the Wonder Dog, comes sauntering down the hallway. I see a flash of pink out of the corner of my eye,  and my mouth drops open.  Big Daddy looks over, “No she didn’t.”

My poor dog.  The look on his face was one of utter disgust. He walked in and laid down as if to say, “WHY, why does she treat me so? Please put me out of my misery.”

So watch yourself, she may be lurking.  She might bat those eyelashes to draw you near. and Wham! You’ve been pinkified….

Condiments and Sauces, etc…..

March 27, 2011

Never mind keeping track of what people are allergic to or not in my house, I have to worry about who eats what condiments, sauce, yogurt,etc…. Pay attention, there will be a quiz at the end.

Big Daddy:  Hellman’s mayo only, Miracle whip is the devil’s food.  banana peppers, toasted bread-if eating bread, no blood on the plate with the beef, but will eat carpaccio.  American cheese over cheddar on the sandwich.  No couscous because, “it tastes like air.” eggs over pancakes.  Veggies,  veggies, and more veggies.  Meat, meat, and more meat.  fruit, some desserts, but not many. Tea.  No coffee unless its frou-frou.  Ranch dressing.

MiniMe: No salad dressing of any kind.  No condiments on the sandwich, BBQ sauce on everything else.  Lettuce, tomatoes only on sanwiches-not in salads.  Butter on sandwiches, no mayo. Orange juice.  plain milk makes him gag, scrambles eggs, never boiled. Oatmeal. Pancakes.  No fruit-on-the bottom yogurt-must be pre-blended.  Spinach, preferably creamed and most veggies. HAM! Shrimp. Loves sweet potatoes, but will eat white potatoes.  Prefers Alfredo sauce over tomato sauce, but will eat them mixed or separate, doesn’t care.  Previously didn’t like onions, not will eat them on a sandwich.  Will eat plain cabbage  and raw potatoes.  Gravy on the meat, but not the starch. Now likes spicy foods.  Motto: If not nailed down, it will be eaten.

Whirling Dervish: Nothing with a weird texture-No oatmeal, pudding, and only some smoothies. Baked potatoes, no sweet potatoes.  Meat! No fish other than how Grandpa Poppy makes it (fried).  Gluten-free diet.  Rice gives her headaches.  Boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, but favorite are fried but is not a breakfast eater. Milk.  Will eat deviled eggs without paprika.  No nuts, but likes peanut butter.  Prefers Alfredo sauce over tomato sauce, will eat pink sauce. White Bean Soup is favorite.  No shrimp.  Yogurt prefered from a tube, rather than a container.  Cheese, cheese, and more cheese. Corn in any form. No spinach, creamed or otherwise. Gravy on the starch, sometimes the meat. Beans.

Glamour Rayz:  The tangier the better.  Dill pickles by the jar.  Boiled eggs, but only the whites, but will eat deviled eggs.  Baked potato, but no skin on it. Makes her own pesto sauce.  No Alfredo sauce, but will eat tomato or Pink sauce. No crusts ont he sandwiches. Prefers chocolate milk.  Cheeseburgers plain.  Hot dogs with no bun.  Gravy on meat and starch.  Has a sweet tooth.  Syrup and powdered sugar on the waffles.  Likes spicy stuff.  No peas, will tolerate green beans.  Salad either plain or with Italian dressing depending on the mood.  Likes ice in all drinks.

Butter Face (Wonder Dog): Certain lins of dog treats give him bubbly guts. Shoes, but prefers the most smelly of them. Dead stuff from the yard.  Grass. Unattended coffe, but akes him jittery.  Butter (hence the name). Steals food, but prefers, fat, meat. Motto:  Please see MiniMe entry for reference.

And this is what I CAN remember…..Check please!

-Saucy at the Edge

Glamour Rayz……

January 27, 2010

Glamour Rayz Cute isn’t she?  Look, but don’t look.  She’ll suck you right in and then, you’re done for. I know she’s only six, but you’ll be handing over money, car keys, cookies, you name it. She’s just so dang cute. Try as Big Daddy and I might to fight the glamour rays that shoot out when she bats her eyelashes, we get zapped all the time. Even her siblings are weak against them.

This is Glamour Rayz, our youngest superhero at the edge of crazy. We thought we were done after Whirling Dervish, but there were other plans in store for us. Needless to say, we’re glad she’s here to complete our team. (Two of our superheros look like Big Daddy, two like me.  We each have a set. Equilibrium at its best.)

Glam is loved by all and works it to her advantage.  I’m surprised the girl can actually do stuff on her own. Her brothers would carry her everywhere if we allowed it.  I had to instruct the nanny that she actually could feed herself and should.  She never cleans her room by herself. Giving her sister and brothers the sad face, they ultimately cave in and help her and end up doing most of the work.  We, at times have to put our foot down and make her do for herself.  We don’t look directly in her eyes, though.  Otherwise, she’ll get us. 

It’s not that she can’t do things for herself.  Actually, she is quite independent when the mood strikes her.  In fact, stubborn to her core, she is often defiant, looking right at you while doing the very thing you have instructed her not to do, smiling all the while. We stand in disbelief, questioning ourselves as to whether we had actually told her not to do something. But then if we admonish her, she gets all sad faced and teary-eyed.  And if we’re not careful, we’ll melt under the power of the rays and actually feel bad for her.  We have to shake it off, regroup, and stand firm, even if we’re feeling terrible inside for the sad-face.   Dumb, she ain’t, that’s for sure.

Don’t be fooled though.  Under that hair are two little pink horns.  Her main target is Whirling Dervish, her older sister.  A Love-Pain-in-my-butt (hate is such a strong word) sisterly relationship, she knows just how to press her sister’s buttons, smashing them in to cause the most chaos. An example; Whirling Dervish walked by Glam’s door one morning dressed for the day. Glam looked at her and said, “You’re not wearing that are you?????” and then gave a little chuckle as if to indicate that Whirling looked totally ridiculous, which she didn’t.  Glam was just messing with her sister’s head. And it worked.

When provoked by some brotherly taunting, she growls and attacks them. Her brothers have nicknamed her “Wolverine” after the comic book hero. She may be small, but she is certainly feisty and won’t take guff from anyone, which I’m not upset about at all.

At times, she’ll seem shy, but it’s a front.  It’s all a front.  She’s just sitting back, taking it all in, assessing the situation and whom she can suck into the her vortex without much effort, which is pretty much everyone. People always say we’ll have to keep an eye on Whirling Dervish as she gets into her teens, that’s she’s going to wreak havoc, but no.  WD is very vocal, lets you know where her head is. But this one, Glamour Rayz, who flies under the radar, blinding everyone with her glaminations (I believe I have just made up a new word. ), is prime hell raising material in the making for sure. 

So, if you see Glamour Rayz around, and find yourself getting sucked in, consider yourself warned. I would say look away, but you can’t really.  So try to stand firm. Or melt like I do.

The Whirling Dervish in all Her Glory

November 15, 2009
The Whirling Dervish

Pit Hair

My eldest daughter’s superhero name is the Whirling Dervish(WD).  She is a bundle of big curly hair, crazy blue eyes, and energy that could light a small city. She is 9 going on 35 and started wearing deodorant a few weeks ago after she twirled by me with her arms up in the air and melted my eyelashes with pit funk.  Her  older brother that is closest to her in age (he’s 11), superhero name: Mini-Me, at times can peel paint with what he’s got going on in the pits and for a minute I thought he had come in. When I realized that in fact, it was my eldest daughter two things happened.  I sent her on the express train to the shower to bathe along with a brand new stick of her very own deodorant, and my stomach dropped as I realized that puberty was pulling up in the driveway to take up residence and I wasn’t sure I was ready.

To be sure, we have already been having conversations and reading about what will eventually be happening to her body.  But I was happy just having the conversations without the live demonstrations.

So this week, we were flipping through “The Care and Keeping of You” By American Girl and got to the section in underarm hair and I realized that I hadn’t actually looked in her pits to see if there was any hair there.  So, I asked her if she had any and to let me see.  She told me that she would be right back.  I’m thinking she’s going to look herself to see if there is any hair under there before she shows me.  A few minutes later she comes out with her tank top on and a piece of orange string across her chest, and says she’s ready to show me her pits.  She raises her arms and I almost peed my pants. She had taken all of the hair out of the 15 hairbrushes we have in our house and made herself some arm hair.  After I finished crying and laughing, I told her that was a good one.  She responded, “Yes, that was very creatful wasn’t it?…hunh?????  “Oh,” I say,”The word is creative, not creatful, ya hairy armpitted nut.” She smiled and gave me a flash of the pits.

That’s my Whirling Dervish.


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