good question

We had to make a stop at the doughnut shop yesterday morning. Yes, we HAD to. I promised Kady. (And it had nothing to do with the fatty, gooey goodness that was in the doughnut shop. . .)

[wipes crumbs off shirt]

Anyway, as we're waiting in line, Kady noticed the dogcatcher in line in front of us. I didn't even know she knew what the dogcatcher's truck looked like, but apparently he sometimes stops in at the-best-babysitter-in-the-world's house to visit with her husband/talk to the kids. (I told you Paradise was a small town!)

After pointing out the dogcatcher, Kady asked, "Mom, why are there not cat catchers?"

I explained that I thought the dog catcher did double-duty, catching what needed to be caught.

Kady, however, knew that couldn't be right. After all, the dog catcher has dog paw prints painted on his truck but NO cat prints.

So. . .why are there no cat catchers? : )

kady: attitude and sass abound

Even wonder what exactly my daughter's personality would look like in the form of clothing?

[Well, pretend you have.]

Look no farther. I could not have summed up her personality better than the outfit she has on today. She's wearing pink cowboy boots, a pink and yellow tutu, and a t-shirt that reads "saw it, wanted it, had a fit, got it--Cowgirls Unlimited."

THAT is my Kady girl.

RIP Ellie

Item # 387, 423 "they" didn't tell you about before you had children:

Kady attended an awesome birthday party this weekend. It had a circus theme complete with a jump house and clowns. The clowns provided face painting and balloon animals (none of that scary clown stuff!). Kady chose a balloon elephant, which miraculously did not get popped. If this had been Kyler's balloon, he would have popped it within five minutes, had a minor meltdown, and moved on. Kady on the other hand, has named her elephant. She even tucks him in under a blankie each night.

Last night, we noticed Ellie (the balloon elephant) was slowly dying. . .or deflating for those of you still in the real world. Poor Ellie is suffering a slow, horrible death, which is traumatizing my daughter. She wakes up and immediately checks to see how Ellie is doing. We get home, and she determines how much more air Ellie has left. Unfortunately, Ellie is on his last breath (forgive the pun), and there's nothing this mama can do. . .unless someone can teach me how to make a balloon elephant in the next 12-48 hours. . .

Monkey What?

I bought a candle last weekend, which is not an unusual occurrence for me. I love candles. This is the first time I've ever bought a candle with this particular scent, however. One look at the candle and I could not resist. It was definitely original, and the scent was. . .um, different--not bad different, just different.

The scent?

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Monkey Farts.

Yep, you read that right. I'm saving it to use as a prank gift at Christmas (so if you're related to me, watch out. . .). I didn't realize monkeys were indigenous to Mississippi. . .Did you?

The NEW Crocodile Hunter

Kev knows no fear. The man loves adrenaline. He gladly tries any new adventure. Learning to ski as an adult? Done it. Hunt mysterious animals in the middle of nowhere? Repeatedly. Try the world's largest roller coaster? Sure, let's do it again. . .

Luckily for Kev, our little man, Kyler, is also quite the adventurer. He's tough as can be and loves trying new things. I have to constantly tell him not to run his horse, because fast is the only speed that boy knows. He kinda reminds me of Hammy on caffeine from Over the Hedge--remember that scene?

And then we had a girl. Kev worried and fretted about what this would mean. He has no sisters. He had no idea what to do with a girl. Tiaras and tea cups were foreign to my big, burly husband. Somewhere in that big jumble of chromosomes that is Kady, however, is the speed gene. Kady's first trip on the 4-wheeler ended with the words, "Go fast, Daddy, go fast!" This pink-loving, dress-wearing little girl is Kev's little adrenaline junky. (We went to a Japanese steak house this weekend. Her narrative of the events glossed over the FIRE, and instead, detailed our near-death driving experience and the fact that we drove SO FAST!!)

This morning, Lightning McKady was reminiscing. (Who knew 3-year-olds had so much to reminisce about. . .)

Mom, remember when you, me, Daddy, and Brother went in that little boat down the river?

Yep. That boat is called a canoe.

Well, it would have been more fun if there had been crocodiles.

and the award goes to. . .

We're in Mississippi--again!! We're on one last before-school-starts trip to see Kev. It was a very boring, uninspiring trip down here. . .until we were five minutes from our destination. That's when Kady decided she had to go to the bathroom and SHE COULD NOT WAIT. If you have kids, you know that when kid has to go, you better find a bathroom NOW. We stopped at the first gas station we came to, with Kady assuring me the entire time that she was JUST ABOUT TO GO--NOW!! We took one look at the bathroom, and I freaked. I've seen nasty, but this was radioactive. (Brief synopsis: unisex bathroom with visual filth, dirty mop and mop water in front of toilet, broken-long-ago soap dispenser and sink, mysterious cup sitting next to toilet, etc.) I immediately threatened my daughter within an inch of her life if she touched anything--including the sink. (I asked if she was sure she couldn't wait, and ever the optimist, she said, "um, maybe I can wait," as she danced in place. . .) I held her over the toilet and we did the "hover pee" maneuver that many of us perfected back when gas stations had outside bathrooms with keys the size of a yardstick that you had to go inside and ask for(remember those?). We then found anything we could thing of to try to sanitize our hands, e.g., Germ-X, saniwipes, bleach, mysterious acid found in car. . .The wait is on to see if we caught something contagious. . .If you need to know where the nastiest bathroom in America is, I can show you--well, at least tell you. I'm not ever going back there!

Mickey Mouse, a Dream, and a Rebel Named Nutt

Alternately Titled: I've ruined her geography skills for life or Squashing a Dream

Some people give birth to children that have MAD geography SkILz. I do not. Sure, my daughter can find her way around the small town of Paradise, but then, if you can walk in a straight line, so can you. The problem became apparent when Kev began talking about a job in Florida, you know, where the mouse with big ears and the princess in a shiny palace live. Ssssooooo, like so many insane parents out there, we tentatively began (possibly) planning a summer getaway to Disney World.

Alas, the job in Florida was not to be. Instead, Kev wound up in Mississippi--still hot, still a Southern state, but not quite the same. Kady, however, became completely confused. This confusion grew as our impending travel date to Mississippi grew closer. Somehow, my attempts to ease this confusion made it worse. Our conversations went something like this.

Kady: I want to go to Mickey-ippi.

Me: We ARE, but we're not going to Disney World.

Kady: Uh-huh. I want to go to Mickey-ippi AND go to MICKEY'S HOUSE.

(At which time, she would become so excited that all rationalization was lost.)

Thus, I fear her attitude towards Mississippi shall forever be biased. . .although on the plus side, this could insure that I NEVER, EVER have to cheer for this man again. . .

Thank you, Mickey-ippi, thank YOU.