Mall Rat

Oh, I am in soooo much trouble (future trouble, metaphorical trouble).  I've been given this decree so many times since our second daughter was born, I usually just smile and shrug my shoulders as if to say, "I know, what can you do?"  But then... I took them to THE MALL!

Yesterday was the first time I had been to a proper mall in at least a year, maybe longer.  Abercrombie blaring music in the dark, check!  Calorie-laden scent of cinnamon and almonds in the air, check!  Over-priced, over-hyped, overly-bright merchandise at every turn, check!  I was enjoying my little stroll through this climate controlled testament to the average American's need to over-indulge, ambling past all my old favorites without a backward glance, my two money-suckers in tow, when I looked down and saw the look of rapture on my eldest face.  Uh oh.

The food court... of course we need a snack - a grilled cheese sandwich from the fancy panini place (we settled for chips, thank goodness)... and naturally we had to play in the play area... and get a hair cut at the kid-snips (dissuaded again, thank goodness)... and test out some gelato at the cafe near the play place.  We had begun our mall trip with a stop at the Land's End shop in Sears for a winter coat, and ended it with a stop at Barnes and Noble for a few books, but when she realized that we were on our way back to the car she seemed perplexed, "Why?  I want to go to THAT store!" pointing to a blindingly fluorescent store filled to the brim with girls clothing.  "That store is for big girls, honey" (and future tramps, I think to myself).  "But I'm a big girl," she sulks.  "You're right, but that store is for even bigger girls, maybe we can look next year."  This was an acceptable response.  After explaining a few more times why we could not stop and look at every bright and shiny thing in our path we finally made it back to the car.

If I consider her interest in the mall to double each year until she is a pre-teen, then multiply that by two (because her little sister is hot on her heels) I figure I'll be spending roughly three million dollars in that mall in about eight years.  So this is why, yes, I am in soooo much trouble.

Sneezle's Best Halloween

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Calhoun Family Dictionary

Disastrophe - Combination of the words Disaster and Catastrophe.  Definition: A terrible event the likes of which a four-year-old may interpret as the end of the world.  Real-World example:  "Mom!  Oh no!  I can't find my Barbie's necklace!   This is a Disatrophe!

Less Cheese Please

Today was brutally hot - 100 degrees... again.  The girls and I needed an activity that didn't require any outdoor time, which is so sad considering we will be cooped up indoors for at least six months come November.  We decided today would be a mall day, which in turn means it's a Rainforest Cafe day... lucky, lucky day!

Maggie hearts Rainforest Cafe in a big way.  The fish, the elephants, the monkeys, the "rain", all love, love, love.  Catie, on the other hand, is not nearly so fond.  Somehow we managed to be seated before the monkeys started screaming and the thunder started rumbling, and the girls were very excited to examine a new display of animatronic tigers... that is, until the tigers began to roar, at which point Catie turned and ran, yelling "Mommy, Mommy!" and mothers across the restaurants popped their heads up in unison like the perfect impression of a meercat colony.  She was scared, poor thing.  I was laughing at her... so now you should feel even more sorry for her I guess.

Halfway through her macaroni and cheese the thunderstorm began... and as if that's not enough to scare the pants off your two-year-old, the monkeys start twitching and hollering.... nothing will make a kid drop a handful of cheesy noodles faster than thunder, lightening, and dusty, fake monkeys.  She vaulted out of her highchair, cheesy, slimy hands and all, and into my arms, buried her cheesy face in my shoulder (and hair) and chanted, "Oh no, Monkeys get me!"  You'll be proud to hear that this time I did not laugh.  This time I comforted my baby... while I silently cursed macaroni and cheese tried to stay as still as possible to minimize the amount of cheese that would be transferred to my shirt, back, hair, and face. 

Next time we're ordering the chicken nuggets.... no ketchup.

I Did It!

Wanna know the three most magical, musical words in my little Cate's limited vocabulary?  "I did it!"  She walks down the stairs all by herself and proudly proclaims, "I did it!"... she takes her pants off all by herself and beams, "I did it!"... she figures out how to use the remote for our Wii to start Calliou on Netflix all by herself, "I did it!"  (seriously, the two year old knows how it works better than my husband, if that doesn't make you feel old I don't know what will) 

I love her pride and confidence, it is so sweet and sincere.