They're After Me

People are searching for me. Through Google, that is. I like to check the stats for my blog every day so I can keep track of how many people are being enlightened by my musings. My favorite part of the statistics is the "search keywords," which tells me how people found my site. While most of my readers are my parents' friends and family, I do occasionally get the random stranger. And those strangers are searching for some interesting things.

The most popular search that brings me traffic is "care bears" or some version of those two words. That search brings up this post. (All these links will open in new windows, so don't worry about losing your place!)

The second most popular is "8 point star filter" or "cross star filter," which is a kind of filter that you can put on a camera. That search brings up this post, containing a photo taken with the star filter.

Then we have "liana dresses." Apparently someone with the last name of Liana designs wedding dresses. But, if you go to Google Images and do that search, among all the models in their wedding dresses, you will see an adorable picture of Gillian in a ridiculous dress our parents found at a thrift store. Check it out here.

And that brings us to the strange ones. Like "ashy person." Try it in Google Images. See my awesome photo from this post.

Last, but not least, my favorite..."wedgie life jacket." When I first saw that, I thought it might have brought up this photo,

but I don't know if I ever used that photo on the blog. Instead it brings up this post.


Google Images is freaky. So are the people searching for wedgie life jackets. But I like that people are reading my blog!

Christmahanakwanzika is all ___________________.

Blessed Christmahanakwanzika everybody!  Maybe. Your pint sized purveyor of everything awesome has some complaints.  I was looking at my parents' Facebook pages and I saw some people posting this diatribe about "Putting Christ back in Christmas" and "Down with Happy Holidays."  Here is an example:

"I'm inviting all my Facebook family and friends to join me in returning to the traditional greeting of "MERRY CHRISTMAS" instead of the politically correct "happy holidays". If you agree with me, please re-post this message. Merry Christmas!"

Here is another one:

Now, I might just be a baby, but what is wrong with "Happy Holidays?"  I understand it is PC, and that PC has its own concerns, but what is wrong with it?  Am I a "bleeding heart liberal" if I say "Happy Holidays?"  Am I a "so called do-gooder?"

Why can we not treat people nicely and acknowledge that what makes us different is what makes us special?  When I say "Happy Holidays" to my friends at baby school, I do it to acknowledge all their special days.  I want to wish people a festive season.

And attacking Christmas?  This whole country is built around Christmas.  It's a national holiday. You don't have to worry about using up vacation days at work or missing school to celebrate.  My dad worked from 11pm on Thanksgiving Night to 4pm the next day.  Why?  Because people needed to start shopping at midnight.  While I type this, every other commercial on TV has mentioned Christmas.  So, which holidays need protecting my friends?  (Don't even get me started on the out-of-control materialism of the whole season.)

To me, "Happy Holidays" is simply acknowledging the fact that there are many holidays celebrated during this season. I don't necessarily know what you celebrate (if you celebrate anything at all) and I'm just trying to be nice and cheerful. I'm not trying to take anything away from anyone and not trying to proclaim that one holiday is more important than another. If I know what you celebrate, I will be happy to wish you a "Merry Christmas," but the fact of the matter is that we don't know a lot of the people we greet in the course of a day (at stores, restaurants, etc.). When you say that "Happy Holidays" is offensive and we need to go back to wishing everyone a "Merry Christmas," you are excluding me and a lot of other people in the world, and that's just ridiculous.

I Want to Be a Dog

This has been coming for a long time. I have always been a big fan of my Aunt Louie's dog Casey. "Woof" was one of the first consistent sounds I made. I have a beautiful, soft head of hair. I'm fast on my hands and knees. I do not like wearing pants so I can easily pee and poop on the floor.  I often drool all over the place. I am super cute. There really is no denying it: I was meant to be a dog.

I still don't have quite the vocabulary to express it to my parents verbally, so I've been giving them plenty of cues. Whenever we are with Casey, I make sure to drink out of her bowl. I also like to play with her toys. When we are not with Casey, I simply dump whatever food I am given on the floor and then eat it there. Bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats (no milk--Mom has picked up on my patterns)? Dump it on the floor. Mac and cheese? Dump it on the floor. Granola bar? Crumble it up and dump it on the floor. I tried dumping some water on the floor today also, but that didn't work out as well.

It's just the way I roll. I'd rather get down on my hands and knees and eat with my butt up in the air. I want to be a dog. They are drooly, lazy, and awesome.

Throw a stick for me!  Woof.

Let the Wild Rumpus Start

Everyone was off school today, and since it was Wednesday, that meant we all got to go to story time at the library. The theme of this week's story time was "Where the Wild Things Are." So, of course we read that book, as well as other books about monsters, and we sang monster songs, danced monster dances, and made monster masks. I also had my monster truck with me (but that was just a coincidence since I bring it most places) until the librarian yelled at me for vrooming and not sitting and then Mom had to take the truck away. (But, really, librarian? You yell at a 21-month-old for not being able to sit through two long and not age-appropriate for me stories? There were plenty of other younger kids there who weren't sitting perfectly still.)

Anyway, the culmination of the morning was The Wild Rumpus. And did we have said Rumpus in the story time room far away from the main part of the library? Oh no. We lined up, all 30-40 of us in our monster masks and our parents, and paraded through the whole library, growling and rumpus-ing the whole way. I'm sure that's exactly what the other library patrons had in mind when they decided to go spend a nice quiet morning at the library.

If You Don't Like It...

Today was one of Dad's Best Buy nights, which means Mom is left on her own against us from about 7 am to 11 pm. Most days she does a good job defending herself from me and my sisters, but this afternoon we were especially crabby. We're coming off the weekend, which included an early Thanksgiving celebration with the extended family and Liana's birthday (party on Saturday, plus party at school and going out to dinner on Monday). We're all overtired and almost everyone is snotty with a sore throat.

Liana and Gillian were fighting with each other (which is normal, but more tears were shed today). Liana kept trying to build a structure in her new Angry Birds board game and every time she got ready to launch a bird Gillian knocked it over. Everything was making me cry. I wanted chocolate milk and when Mom gave it to me I wanted juice, but then I wanted chocolate in my juice and instead just climbed into the fridge and perched myself there to throw things at Mom. Mom gave up trying to make everyone happy and put videos on the computer while she went to make dinner.

She decided to make pasta and made the mistake of asking the girls for their input. Liana wanted spaghetti, Gillian wanted rotini, so Mom chose penne. She got the box out of the pantry and put it on the counter while the water heated. Something must have distracted her because she left the kitchen for a minute and when she returned she could not find the box of pasta. She looked all over the place for it, but could not find it. She asked the girls about it and they said they had not seen it. So, she chose a different box of pasta.

After she put the pasta in the water, Liana said, "Mom, did you ever find that box of pasta?" Mom said no and the girls started making up songs about the Missing Pasta Box Mystery.

A couple minutes later, Liana said, "Mom, I just wanted to let you know the pasta is in the play room. I didn't want that kind, so I just threw it in there."

So, Liana got the box out of the play room and I started running around the house using the box as a maraca.

A New 'Do

You all know my friend Azer, the Kung Zhu ninja hamster I love to hate. You have also heard about my sisters' normal Zhu Zhu Pets Nugget and Spottie (who is no longer called Sottie because both Liana and Gillian can now miraculously say their s-blends), who are not as cool as Azer because they are not ninjas. Anyway, all the hamsters have bright yellow stickers on the bottom of them with this warning:

"CAUTION: to prevent entanglement, keep hair away from wheels."

Yes, the second part is in bigger font on the sticker also. You might remember that Nugget met her demise partly because of picking up hair from the floor in her wheels, and partly because Mom thought she was a robot veterinarian (read about it here). Well, Azer is a Kung Zhu, so I wanted to test him and Mom made the mistake of handing him to me when I was in a particularly feisty mood. Needless to say, Azer conquered Mom's hair and Mom ended up with a hamster dangling from her head for a decent part of the afternoon (by that, I mean about 5 minutes). Mom's hair is crazy anyway, so you can't really tell where Azer left his mark, but we won't forget.

Now we know why that font is so big.

Changing the Game

I am not happy. I recently discovered some information that changes everything. Yesterday morning we were eating breakfast--the delicious combination of toast and peanut butter--and Liana's starts complaining about her tooth hurting. Now, Liana and Gillian are always complaining about various phantom pains and ailments, so we didn't pay much attention to her. A moment later, she yells,"My tooth is wiggling! I have a loose tooth!"

Mom and Gillian rush over to her to investigate and sure enough, one of her bottom front teeth is wiggling. I think a trip to the dentist is in my future, but she starts jumping up and down, cheering. "Yay! I can't wait for it to fall out so I can use my tooth pillow and get a prize from the Tooth Fairy!"

What now? You're telling me that I spent the last year of my life suffering as my beautiful teeth pushed their way through my gums and now they're just going to fall out when I'm five? Not acceptable. I've currently got four molars coming in, so my normally pleasant demeanor has been replaced by a crabby one that can be set off by anything (today I cried any time I dropped something on the floor and any time someone left a room). But now I've discovered that this pain is all in vain. What's the point?

I'm not happy with you, teeth. This is not the end of this.

P.S. Liana brought home the news from her classmates that the Tooth Fairy is now paying $5 per tooth. Maybe I'll reconsider.