Tartlet

Randomness Friday post:

8 yo has been on a french food kick lately thanks to American Girl Dolls. She made tartlets with white chocolate mousse. She wanted to put a cherry on top buy it kept rolling off. 

Today was my first time of applying fake lashes on said 8 year old daughter. Sure they’re halfway between her natural lash line and her eyebrow, but girl feels pretty. 

You see, last night at her dance studios dress rehearsal for the recital, her program director said the words every dance mom dreads hearing….”these girls are old enough now to wear fake eyelashes for their performances.”

Cheers erupted from the dancers. Tears from their mommys. I guess we should break out the training bras and booty shorts. It’s all downhill from here!

Pure mommy joy moment: as I was holding and tickling my 2yo today, she stopped and put her little hands up to hold my face and she smiled and sighed and looked me in the eyes. It felt like she was saying, “I know how loved and cherrished I am mommy.”

A few hours later my 8 year old (with fake lashes still on) asked, “did you marry daddy (her stepdad) because he does all the chores for you?” As I’m folding laundry. After I finished cleaning up the mess from the homemade waffles I made the girls for breakfast.  

Yep. That’s why baby.

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Worst. First/ Last. Date. Ever.

Its been a zillion years or so since I was in the dating scene. But sometimes I like to reminisce, just to remind myself how awesome my hubby is. 

The guy. He was the older brother of a guy I went to school with. Like his little brother was hawt (totally would have settled for him), so obviously HIS older brother was the bees knees, right? Genes, DNA all that jazz. Plus, older brother was a huge football star in high school.

But this wasn’t high school. It was 8 years after. His glory days were 8 years ago and he had conceded to that fact. So he took up a hobby in his free time and decided to share that hobby with me, on our first date.

Metal detecting. Give it a try “Her et al.” this could be romantic out in nature, just me and him. I was like 92% sure he wasn’t going to kill me, I knew his family! What on earth could go wrong? 

Everything. Every. Damn. Thing. First off, he was convinced he would strike it rich, hit the big one with his mad metal detecting skillz. Meaning I, the amature, could quite possibly ruin his chance at fame and fortune! Therefore I was not allowed to hold the detector. Nor was I allowed to do the digging. Nor was I allowed to make recommendations. Nor was I allowed to break his concentration. 

So I sat my skinny butt (I just wanted to highlight the fact that I was skinny at this time in my life) in the grass in the shade and waited. He found .07ยข.

I didn’t drive. That was my ultimate mistake. I had no way to bail on this date. If I had, I would have just gone to my car and left after an hour. But because I didn’t, I sat there for FOUR HOURS!!

Man, “Her et al.” that really was a crappy date….but wait, there’s more. He took me home, went in for the kiss to which I informed him I never kissed on the first date (big ol lie there, I love making out,) and I ran. Ran like someone was changing me!

Turns out, that nice shady spot under the tree that I found? Was home to poison ivy. Can you top me? I’ll mail you a sympathy card if you can top that horror story!

 Edited to include full picture of my artwork. Clearly the highlight of my story!