Oy, me ‘ead!
Ok – so, recently I was on meds because my sinuses were planning to take over the world, starting by making my head explode, remember? Well, it seems that the cure was not so much a cure, but a holding pattern. While there is no infection (Really – do you want to know how I know that? It’s a mom thing. But here, since you asked (shut up, you did too) Mucus of yellow or green, infection easily seen -Â when the snot runs clear, ain’t no infection here…) My head is all stuffed up again, and worst of all? My eyes – they will not stop watering. And itching. And UGH.
Really. Is it too much to ask to have my sinuses BEHAVE for a while? I can’t wear my contacts, and any eye-gasm inducing rubfest results in HOURS of burning redness and whimpering.
I’d like to get some work done! But instead, I’m bemoaning my fate and whining here. Aren’t ya the luckiest people *ever*?
And speaking of…
…modeling and posing and makeover’s and such…
You *gotta* see this: The Anti-Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show!
Suzanne is da bomb, baby!
And, yet another program done….
only one more to go next week!
Tonight saw the Pup and Bug up on the stage for the second year in a row for the big School Christmas program. The Auditorium was filled to capacity, and there were many, many dressed up little guys both on and off the stage. Some even had a Makeover for the occasion. Like so:
Ain’t he a stud? Even the Diva was impressed:
We had to wait till Act Two to see JJ Darlin on stage, and then Act Three saw Bug taking the stage first, then My little star, the Pup, doing a Mexican Hat Dance with her classmates.
It is too a Christmas thing – the way it’s written into the program: The Littlest Christmas Tree.
She’s a natural, of course – and cracked us all up when she finally saw us waving and did her cutsy little grin, then even – in the MIDDLE OF THE DANCE – snuck in a wave to all of us with her hand by her hip. They’d been told for TWO WEEKS they weren’t to wave to the crowd, but she? Oh she managed to slide one in anyway.
The girl is serious star material. Heh.
Then came her approximation of a curtsy….
The child is seriously TOO CUTE.
And Ms. L, the music teacher is a saint to do this every year. In case you’re wondering just HOW MANY kids were in this program? Here’s the final group shot – and yes, there are kids lined up in front of the stage in the audience too for the final song.
Ms. L is likely the bravest teacher I’ve ever, EVER, met. And she does this year after year after year. All the kiddos behaved beautifully, and most of the parents did as well. There were some moments I wanted to smack someone in the head, but overall – another big concert crowd survived!
The final one is next Tuesday – the girl’s band concert, and we’re all done until spring. Thank goodness!
Drink Alert!
Put em down people – it’s Days of our PreTeens!
The Girl: So! Guess what happened in Science!
Me: Uh… you got to dise..
The Girl: A BOY!
Me: You got to disect a BOY?
The Girl: That’d been cool, because most boys look like frogs, so why not treat them like them. Well really, they look like pigs and act like pigs but thats SO NOT THE POINT even though my friend A has a pencil that has picture of girl/pig/girl/pig and it says under it ‘girl boy girl boy but again NOT THE POINT and no, no disecting boys. (Clearly, she’s inherited her love of ‘asides’ from me.)
Me: *Suspicious* So, what about this boy?
The Girl: He FLIRTED with me. See, he’s the one I beat in the Geography bee and he said he hated me but now he says he don’t hate me no more.
Me: (thinkin – and there’s our F in language arts in plain view…) Ahha. And what’s this boys name, Mairiah? (Yes, that’s her name, as long time readers know, and it’s very important to point out againnow for the purposes of this story..)
TheGirl: Cary.
Me: ……
Me:…….
Me:……. (gives up) BWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA!
—
Clearly – this is a boy she can NEVER DATE. Because I? Could never, EVER, introduce them with a straight face. EVER. “This is Mairiah and *snort chortle* Cary.” Just. No. So Bad. So WRONG.
And, btw?
The winners were posted – here’s mine:
 
I’m not bitter. Honest.
Beaten by the bloody number randomizer.
This is why Lessa? Never gambles. *L*
