How to build a Thanksgiving Turkey cookie

Today, the Lollygagger made some Turkey cookies which will be placed on each plate as a table
decoration tomorrow, her fourth Thanksgiving.

First, she peeled off the wrappers of several Reeses Peanut Butter Cups

See.

And, by some miracle, it made it all the way to the dinner table along with the rest of the little Turkeys.

And with all these yummy things sitting in front of her, that's a saying something.

She started off by gluing the Candy Corns on Oreo cookies with vanilla frosting, forming the tails.

But got caught up in her own creativity and decided to make a Candy Corn sandwich.

When she was finished, this is what they turned out to be.

She had such a fun time making these, I think it just became a Thanksgiving tradition.

Today, I am thankful for my Lollygagger and beginning a lifetime of traditions with her.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Dove vs- Dog

In my last post I explained how the Lollygagger applied enough make up to her face to canvas an entire population of clowns and their descendants for years to come.

In the process of washing her face with a dehydrated sliver of soap, which turned into a wrestling match, some of the Dove soap splintered and crumbled to the floor. By the end of the multiple face washings, I was sweaty and tired, so instructed the Lollygagger to please rescue the scraps of soap from the floor, and either replace it in the soap dish, or preferably, toss it in the trash.

As a person, I would have expected the soap pieces to have been thrown into the trash. As a mother of a hilarious 5 year old, who loves to invent new ways to amaze me, I should have known better. She made a sculpture of the remainder of the soap. However, some of the very tiny pieces remained on the floor.

The next morning, my dog came in to rest her head on my lap. Yes, she rests her head on my lap every time I go in for a pee. Sorry you had to hear that.

When she was exiting the bathroom, she must have smelled something nice, because she sniffed around until she could locate the source. She found it and began to lick up what I soon realized were the bits of Dove soap that were left behind from the previous days adventure.

I asked her what she found on the floor that was so tasty. She turned her head, still licking her lips as pink soap chips were falling from her flapping jowls. I tried to keep her from eating the rest, but she must have really liked it. I wasn't strong enough to pull her away and she was being quite stubborn about it. Before I knew it, she gobbled down every tiny piece of pink soap she could reach.

Later that morning, she had a tummy ache. I could tell, because she was pacing... back and forth... back and forth. When she was let out, she ran for the ditch and didn't emerge for at least 5 minutes. This routine repeated it self all afternoon. The part that makes me scratch my head is, she kept going back each time she returned from a bought of diarrhea to see if there were any soap pieces left.

What is it with dogs and their poor gastronomic choices?

Glad I 'm not a dog.

Hobo Kelly

While chatting on the phone with my mother, the Lollygagger helped herself to a couple of make up bags filled with old make up I don't intend to use, for various reasons. Lipsticks of the wrong color, blushes that are too light or too dark, foundations that clog my pours, etc.

Before I knew it, she was looking like Hobo Kelly! Remember her?

"I see Tommy, I see Betty, I see Robert..."

Week after week, that bitch clown managed to see every kid in California except me. Can't tell you how upsetting that was for me. I think she was making it all up. I don't really think she could see ANY ONE. Although, she was a magical clown. She could fly and everything. So, I guess I could be wrong.

So, there she was, looking every bit the clown as Sally Baker, the Hobo herself, and there was little I could do about it at the moment.

By the time my conversation with my mother was finished, the damage was done. We're talking lipstick so thick, it was creeping up into the nose.

She ran through the house in her efforts to prevent me from catching her and washing her face, but I won. I caught the little varmint and washed her face, twice. The make up in her nose remained though. Not too concerned with pink boogers.

Ya gotta love little girls and make up. They just go together so well.

The Wizard of Oz

When I was a young girl, we would gather around the television every Sunday night and watch what ever Disney show channel 7 happened to air. Sometimes, there was the occasional programming that trumped the Disney movie of the week.

I remember when we all gathered to watch the Wizard of Oz. I would sit on the floor, behind my daddy's legs, and peek at the television from between his knees. I was so scared out of my mind I closed my eyes through most of the movie.

Here, the Lollygagger eats a bowl of soup while watching the classic movie that frightened me so much when I was her age.

When the flying monkey first appears, she opened her mouth into a comical "O" and starred up at the television without blinking. I was sure she would insist I sit with her, or crawl onto the couch and hang on my arm.

She sits there, sipping her soup, her hair brushing the carpet behind her, content to be in her shorts during a cold snap...

She watched the entire movie, for the first time, and was stoic and brave the whole time.

Once again, she surprises me by being so contrary to everything I ever was as a child. ...and I am glad.

A very thirsty cat

A few weeks ago, I blogged about my disappointment in my deodorant falling apart on me. It was one of those solids that fall out of the container when it gets too near the end anyway.

Shortly after the crumbling of the deodorant, I switched to a dial up gel.

Do you remember my large barge of a cat, Murray? Well, Murray is a lover, who loves to bump his head into anything that he can rub against and call it affection. Although, if it smells good, he'll try to eat it and call it lunch. He loves to eat. Everything.

So, there I am in my bathroom getting ready for work. He comes in, hops onto the counter top and noses around, as usual. He discovers my new deodorant, which, of course, smells like flowers and fruit, and decides it smells good enough to eat. He knocked it over, rubbed his face on it, tried to chew the top off, and even clutched it in his paws and rolled around the counter top with it. So, I did what any good pet owner would do. I opened it for him!

The suction of the top being pulled off brought with it a healthy dose of gel. Wouldn't you know it, he licked off a blob of it, which sent him into a frenzied head-shaking, tongue-sagging, thirst. He leaped into the sink and attempted to wrestle a drop of water from the faucet, which was not forthcoming. When that failed, he b-lined to the toilet. The lid was shut, but that didn't deter him. He nosed up the lid and dove right in.

Now, I know any pet lover reading this is saying "I am not amused" right about now, but I'm tellin' ya. It was hilarious. After all, what animal is idiotic enough to eat something that is clearly wreaking of aluminum sulfate? I mean, flowers and fruit not withstanding, it smells like chemicals. Don't animals have a keen sense of smell? Only my dog, who makes poor digestive choices, would be so dumb. I guess they are kindred spirits somehow.

So, there you have it. Cats and Dogs really are related.

Tea with Lau Lau

Today, my Lollygagger had a real tea party with her Lau Lau. Lau Lau is her grandmother, who loves the Lollygagger in 4 hour blocks of time. Can't blame her, really. The Lollygagger is only capable of behaving in 3 hour blocks of time. When she hits the wall, she's a different person all together.

Let's take today as an example. From 11:00 a.m. through 2:00 p.m., the Lollygagger was a happy, polite young lady who poked her pudgy pinkie finger out to the side while sipping her tea. By 2:05, she was tired. You know what happens to 5 year olds when they're tired, right? They turn into little psychopaths who must run, or talk, talk, talk, and talk some more until you're forced to say "PLEASE, stop talking!" and generally get on everyones nerves.

All the same, she was on her best behavior today, and I'm a proud Momma.

I love these little moments in life that will be remembered in years to come.

Be grateful and thankful for each moment.

Our Choices in life

Just over a week ago I was contacted by a friend who asked if I was enjoying my job. Truth be told, I have been enjoying it very much. But, call it being intrigued or just nosey, I had to ask "why, you have something better?" His answer was yes.

It took him about 10 minutes to fill me in on the details of his job. Wow, it sounded pretty good. His office is his living room, kitchen, or bed, and he sets his own hours during the week. He trains one-on-one for about four hours a day, on the days he wants to train. Sounds good, doesn't it? There's much more to it, but those items were the highlights of the job.

I say, if it sounds too good to be true, it's because it's not true. So, I spend the next 10 minutes trying to get him to fess up. What's the down side of this job? I quizzed him endlessly, trying to figure it out. Nothing. So, I take a different tack, and come up with my own version of what must be wrong with the job. Nope, he's not budging. There must be a good reason he's flaunting his spectacular job in my face, so I took the bate and asked him why he's being such a putz and teasing me about not having a job like his.

Turns out, there's another one just like his opening in the next day or two, and he wants me to be his co-trainer, and apply for it. It would be a promotion with an increase in pay. So, I figure, "what the hell, applying can't hurt anything" and forwarded my resume to him. He sent it to his manager, who sent it to the hiring manager, who called me for an interview, all within just a few days.

I went to the interview on a Thursday, heard from my friend on Friday that it went well, and will be hearing from his manager on Monday. He told me to have my letter of resignation typed and ready to go so I can hand it in on Tuesday.

So, here I am, at one of many crossroads in my life, wondering if this is the right thing to do. I already have a good thing going and happen to really enjoy myself. So, change? Why?

I suppose the time I spend in my office (living room, kitchen, or bed) could be traded for a few hours in my Lollygaggers Kindergarten classroom as a teachers helper. Or, maybe I could have more time to get to the dentist... yuck. Or, perhaps, I could clean my house once or twice. Hmm, what to do, what to do.

I think I'll take it. After all, what's the worst that can happen? I get fired during one of the worst economically defunct periods in America's history?

...wow, that is something to think about.

Why is change so frightening?

Halloween for the Lollygagger

The Lollygagger was so excited to go into the Village to Trick-or-Treat, she dressed hours before it was time to go, and lured her daddy outside to test out her cool wand. "ABRA-CADABRA"

*poof*

She turned daddy into a frog.

After a successful Wand test, the Lollygagger danced her way down the street.

Finally, the time arrived to travel to the Village. She filled her bucket with every objectionable sweet and confection offered by the local merchants. This must truly be a Dentists dream.

Here she is asking me if she got enough. I immediately say Yes, but her daddy told her the lower level by the lake has candy too. Great. He just had to do it.

He must be feeling grateful for being turned back into daddy.

Oh well, she's having fun.

At the lower level we went to the Lollypop Park, which is a cute little Fun Park that has a shack with a few mirrors and other things that make a good photo op.

She loves being tall.

...and loves being silly.

She had a wonderful time, collected more candy than she will be allowed to eat, and wore herself out to the point of exhaustion.

Good night, sweet pea. Sleep tight.