It was a fine morning in the house, and I made my way to the loo. Upon relieving myself, I knew a problem had arose.

No toilet paper.

What was incredibly remarkable/suspicious about the situation was that the paper tube was also gone. Vamoooose. Missing. I knew I had a case at hand, but first I needed to get myself off the toilet.

Detective Mom: JAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYNNNNNNAAAAAAAAA!!

I can hear her faint reply coming from up yonder.

Little Lady: Yes Mom.

Detective Mom: PLEASE BRING HITHER A ROLL OF TOILET PAPER FOR YE MOTHER!

Little Lady: {no response}

Nooooo… here is my doom. On the toilet……

But alas! What’s this? The pitter patter of footsteps me hear? Of course me child has pulled through and brings hither the roll to save all sanity.

So now back to the case. I’ve put the clues together.

1. The toilet paper was newly stocked as of the previous night.

2. The children in me house are good for blatantly stealing toilet paper tubes to fulfill their dreams of becoming the next Jeti (well lightsabers of course). Possible motive..

3. There was a wad (as in a good crumbled-newspaper equivalent) of toilet paper (unused) crammed in the garbage can. So there ye are.. evidence to support the motive stated above.

I immediately began the interrogations thereafter.

Detective (Me): ARE YE THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS MADNESS? (And I hold up the wad of evidence.)
Suspect 1 (The Boy): No Mom. I didn’t do that.

Detective: ARE YE THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS MADNESS? (And I hold up the wad of evidence.)
Suspect 2 (Little Lady): Nope. Wasn’t me.

Detective: ARE YE THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS MADNESS? (And I hold up the wad of evidence.)
Suspect 3 (Joseph): Um, No?
Detective: AHA! A sign of doubt me sense?! I’ll be watching you me lad!

So later on in the glorious day, I have enough evidence to bring the lad up on charges of theft and purgery. The boy runs down the stairs escaping the hands of the evil Darth Vader, with lightsaber (ahem.. TOILET PAPER TUBE) in hand.

Caught red-handed this boy was.

Detective: SO IT WAS YOU!!!
Criminal: NO really it wasn’t!! This.. is.. umm… an OLD one!

Another job well done by Detective Mom. Of course, one thing I’ve learned from this? Well the Little Lady didn’t take my accusations so well. Therefore I guess it’s safe to say I better always make sure there’s toilet paper in the loo because she will probably not be up to helping again.

The other night American Idol had their special “Idol Gives Back” program on. For those who didn’t tune in, quite a few celebrities were featured, hoping to inspire others to give to such a great cause (world poverty in general). Whoopi Goldberg came on right before a commercial and announced:

“….Come on! Dig in those pockets and give up some change! ….”

Little Lady, who gets her “I-talk-to-the-tv” behavior from her father shouts back:

“You’re not getting my Mommy’s money! No deal!” (Quite a fan of Howie’s show.)

True story.

Well, the Little Lady is finally 3 as of yesterday. (Feels no different, and I have to keep checking the birth certificate to justify the age change.. you know.. make sure it’s not really age 10 she’s stepping foot into.)

So you know how she was carrying around that fish, Fishy? The Not-So-Mean-Mommy got her one.. in fact, the Not-So-Mean-Mommy also got Fishy a play mate.. yep. TWO goldfish. They’re very tiny with tails of frill (tails of frill?) and oh-so-adorable. She absolutely loves them, yet at the same time she’s out to kill them. The honest truth. As soon as she took the fish out the bag, she shook the bag. (Immediate flashback to the poor fish Cuddles from NEMO who suffered a tragic death at the hands of his perilous owner, Darla. {death music plays} Cause of death: bag-shakingitis). Sooo Little Lady was just THRILLED and yanked the fish from the gift bag, letting the bag suspend in front of her bulging eyes before suddenly plopping it down in front of her on the table (Both fish have encountered a mild heart attack at this point.. Near Death Experience #1).

The Not-So-Mean-Mommy: PRINCESS NOOO!! (regaining composure..) You can’t shake the bag sweetie. You’ll scare the fishies!

Little Lady: (totally disregarding the info) Ooooohhh MOMMY! You got me TWOOO fishies! I love you Mommy! Thank you!

Near Death Experience #2: This morning Ms Techie was helping out Little Lady since she insisted on feeding her fish. Every other second she was dumping more food in the tank.

Ms Techie: (..who just happened to be doing a wonderful job supervising the Lady) NOOOO! They only need a LITTLE bit of food Jayna. They’re going to die.

Little Lady: But my fish are HUNGRY and they’re going to eat everything.

(Oh, just like you eat every bit of the peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, including the ends. Right Little Lady?)

So even though the “two fishies” are so cute and well-loved, what WORK I went through to get these stupid things. Not saying it was difficult to stop by the pet shop to pick up 2 little fish, because it wasn’t.. I went to Walmart {cheesy grin} BUT just the day in it’s entirety was just tiring to say the least. First, I picked up Ms Techie early from school so she could give me a hand with all of the party prepping. Domino’s Pizza had this great $4.99 for a large (aka Liliputian party size) pizza.. why not. So because New Jersey is just the best dwelling place and I can no longer use my phone while driving, I had Ms Techie call in the order as we were pulling out of the school parking lot.

“You’ve reached Domino’s Pizza. We are closed right now but…” Click.

She hung up so I don’t even know what the deal was. But after examining the coupon paper, we noticed they don’t open until 3. (*#@^&@#??)

Ok whatever Domino’s. Hate your pizza anyway. You’re not going to dampen my day.., the Not-So-Mean-Mommy tries to cheer herself up.

Alright so next stop, Walmart.
Flashback 1: “Mommy I just love Barbies. They’re so cute and I love to do their hair…” yada yada. Ok so Barbie has made it on the gift list. Congrats Barbie. It’s a shame you’re just too hard to find! Ms Techie and I are just tearing up the aisles looking for the #&#&% Barbies. Obviously they’ve migrated to a store not known for playing Musical Isles with the customers. (Our Walmart is very well known for constantly playing the maze game with customers. You know, moving the eggs to where the shampoo used to be, and the diapers where the electronics once called home. Good God.) But we do evenually find the cursed isle, which happened to be very diminuative in size. They were about 5 Barbies to choose from.

ARE. YOU. KIDDING.

What happened to Ken, Tommy, Kelly, “Kelly’s First Day at Preschool With Teacher Barbie”, and “Tommy’s Doctor’s Visit With Dr. Barbie?” The selection used to be breathtaking. Well I guess you still can say it’s breathtaking, standing on front of 5 Barbies, with a selection of only 3. UGH! Man, she really wanted a stupid Barbie too… would K-Mart carry Barbies?

Flashback 2: “Look Mommy! {Little Lady holds out a cupped hand full o’ nothing} Do you like my hamster?”

Oh geeeeezzzzzzz. Ponies and fish and hamsters.. oh my.

“MOMMY LOOK! He’s very nice and I like him.”

She really has a way of convincing me to get her things. She really does. I can almost guarantee if she waltzed up to me at the zoo and declared, “Mommy I really like that hippo. He’s so nice and his name is Hippy…” Well being the Not-So-Mean-Mommy that I am, I’d march right up to that zoo keeper, stomp my foot and cross the arms, pout, then scream, “I WANT THAT HIPPO! GIVE ME THAT HIPPO!” Then, after being escorted out by zoo officials I’d arrange for an inground pool to be constructed in the backyard, because no matter what I’d get Hippy for The Lady (even if it meant scheduling a crane to smuggle Hippy out at precisely 12:01AM while I’m cloaked in Darth Vader’s attire, topped off with a black ski mask).

I really don’t get why she’s so spoiled. Honestly.

“MOMMY DO YOU LIKE MY HAMSTER!” more of a command than a question.

“Yes sweetie. He’s very nice. But uh, what happened to Fishy?” I ask, still contemplating on what her birthday present is going to be. Perhaps a cross-breed of fish and hamsters.. The Fishster.. I like it.

She whips out the other hand full o’ nothing. “Oh, here he is! He was sleeping.”

Back to reality. Ok so Fishy is still on the gift list. Scratch off hamster.. too smelly.

Soooo Ms Techie and I hunted around the pet section of the MAZE (aka Walmart). Then we found the one. (Actually, the two.) So Fishies in hand, we gracefully leave the Maze, and head over to ShopRite (Maze 2) to pick up the cake and snacks (especially the party noise-makers that no party is complete without). From there, we go to the Dollar Tree for balloons. By now it was a quarter after 3 so Ms Techie tried Domino’s again.

10-15 minutes until pickup.. got it.

Domino’s was in the next town over so I should surely make it in 20 minutes. Driving on Rt 72 and I wanted to slam my head on the steering wheel, just to let the horn ring out for eternity. Ms. Daisy’s twin was in the LEFT LANE in front of me, and I was boxed in from another car to my right.. both parties driving at speeds of approximately 30mph in a 55mph zone. Good grief.

Ok so I finally get out of Tinky-Winky land and headed to where the big girls play.. 60pmh. Yeah man. But of course, somewhere along the line I get mixed up and make a wrong turn. Perfect. Just what I need. Cold pizza. We show up at Domino’s an hour later. HA! You’d think I’d know my town(sss) by now.

So after the cold pizza pick-up, I was on my way home. Of course I forgot to check K-Mart for the Barbies, and I remembered this as I was pulling into the garage. Grrr. I’ve never ran so many errands in such a short period of time. I wanted to grab the hammer (which happened to be at great reaching-distance after stumbling out of the van) and smash in my windows and the engine, just so I’d have an excuse not to drive for a long, LONG time.

Happy Birthday Princess.

I promise to take better pics of Fishy & Pal (Little Lady hasn’t yet decided on a name for the second) another time..

If you’re still around, I feel compelled to apologize for the obsessively long post. So, I’m sorry.

I played with your hearrrtttt

Nah, totally kidding.

But I really did do it again. It all started one glorious morning in the doctor’s office, accompanied by Ms Techie. I was feeling fine and dandy. All except I needed to have a catscan done (which required deprivation of food..ah!) and I had a loud, talking stomach. Came in at a quarter of 10 for my appointment at 10:30 (newsflash: The Queen Bee was actually EARLY for something).

10:15- My head finds comfort in the palm of my hand.

10:20- Head gets restless and switches to the other hand.

“Does anyone mind me changing the channel to The View? ANYONE?” cries another “patiently” waiting patient. “Hmph, guess not then.” She changes the channel.

Fact: Frustration is fed when 1) you’re hungry, and 2) a debate arises above your head.

10:29- My head tries to find solace in both hands, while attempting to tune out the now boiling Whoopie Goldberg who happened to be foaming at the mouth from the sounds of it (religion i think? God only knows..).

10:35- “The View”-fan-woman is sitting next to Ms Techie, who’s slouched over next to me. I guess The View wasn’t really giving her a real good scoop on life so she thought she could brighten up her day by starting conversation with a cranky, head-cradled, mouth-agaped woman and her mirrored daughter. She adjusts her position to face us.

“You know, I’m here because I’m having pains in my knee. I just got this one replaced {points at her good knee, but they both actually looked swollen to me}. Dr. (What was his name?) did such a great job.”

I nudge Ms Techie. She jolts up and with one eye opened looks at the older woman.

“Oh Wow! Hmm, I guess he did do a great job, huh?” I smile. Ms Techie smiles.

“Yes he did. Oh and I actually have been having problems with my shoudlers too, but they’ve always been a little out of whack since I was young.” She moves her shoulders in a circular motion, loosening them up.

“Oh wow,” I reply from shortage of words (and food!). Ms Techie smiles.

“Yeah I am just a mess.” She begins to chuckle, remembering an incident from the other day. “You know, the other day I was in the shower, and as I went to sit down on the seat, all of a sudden my feet just swoooosh!! …out from under me! The only thing I could do was laugh!”

She bursts out laughing. I managed to find a laugh from in my empty stomach. Ms Techie laughed.

“I mean I did begin to worry, how was I going to get up?!” A real gesticulator this one was.

“Hmmm, I would definitely suggest mats for the shower floor,” YES! I found a solid response besides “mmm” & “mmmhmm.”

“Oh yes I was definitely thinking of that!”

She laughs again, and I have no idea why. So I laugh. Ms Techie laughs.

The View came back from a commercial, and I guess the change in topic caught her ear. God is good.

Rule of thumb: Never engage in conversation while hungry. You’re stomach will overpower your speech.

10:45- I get up, and stumble a bit like a drunk. I make my way over to the receptionist and stand in line. Ms Techie knew what was coming. I glanced over at her and caught a glimpse of eyebrows reaching for the heavens, as her head bolts for her palms. I guess I was going to embarrass her.. again.

Uh, oops?

Ok so my turn in line finally comes again, and I can tell the receptionist was bracing herself for what was coming. She was such a jovial person, during our first encounter that is, and I was ready to burst that huge bubble of hers, to join my already deflated one.

Jovial: Hi there Ma’am!!!! What can I do for ya?!!! (the obsessive use of exclamation points is not an exaggeration)

Aggravated Queen Bee: Yes but when do you think I’ll be seen?! I mean this IS JUST RIDICULOUS.

Jovial: Oh I’m sorry Ma’am, but for some reason we just seem to be really busy today!!!!! After the lady in the corner over there goes in, you should be going in right after!!!!!!! OK!!!!!???

I feel eyes glaring. And Ms Techie’s was piercing.

Aggravated Queen Bee: “Grunt…” Thank you.

All dignity was ripped out of me and strangled. I came up to this poor girl fuming and she calmly responds to this crazed woman. Nothing could pop her bubble, and my lack in being able to do so had me feeling awful. But whoa whoa whoa.. give the guilty party a chance to speak.

1 HOUR! ..that’s all that needs to be said in my defense.

It’s been quite some time since I’ve talked about fbd. So let’s gear today’s convo in that direction. First of all, I don’t even know when the last time was I’ve shared a new design.. yikes. Forgive me for the deprivation. Ha. So here’s one of my recent faves.. {drum roll please} I call it.. “Alice in Euroland.” Name’s pretty neat, huh? First of all it was the hardest thing for me to come up with what to design next.. (writer’s designer’s block). But then I stumbled upon this GAWGEOUS Japanese Alice fabric and I knew it was love at first sight (sorry hubby.. another strike against me proving I fall victim to the idiopathic Dorky Designer Syndrome (DDS).. ooo parentheses inside parentheses).

Ok so anyhoo, I did mention I love this fabric, right? Ok.. just checking. LOVE it. I’m kicking myself for not buying more when I found it on the one-and-only site known for killing sellers’ egos (yes, ebay.. you). But lo-and-behold.. the heavens have opened and God shone his grace on me, bestowing more of this FAB fabric on my computer screen… etsy you rock. So now, I have ooodles and ooodles of this wonderful find and no clue what to do with it. Have any of you wanted to create a display case in the living room, just for hanging lovely-dovey fabrics that you want to protect from the wrath of scissors? Hmph, maybe that’s just me.

I guess I’ll share the others another time..

Oh so Little Lady is turning the fun and fabulous 3 next month. I’m afraid this might be the year the troubling “terrible twos” come to bite me in the butt. I’ve never really experienced this umm.. growth stage.. with the Lady. So somehow I just know the Twos are going to pounce on me and go for the juguler when she’s 4.. or 5. She’ll start throwing herself down in Walmart when she can’t get the Barbie she wants. “But Moooooom! It comes with a hairbrush!!!” Or she’ll start yanking out the pigtails I give her because they look “dumb.” Or she’ll start refusing her naps because she’s “not tired.” Oh man I can see it now.. eek. I know the Twos are an innate & torturous contrivance for my demise.. it’s just a matter of time.

But anyhoo, I know just the gift to welcome the third year. All day yesterday, Little Lady walked around telling me about her non-existent pet fish, “Fishy.” Even as I was behind the machine she was right there with me, telling me her fantasies of this so-called Fishy.

“Mom! My Fishy is sleeping now. Please be quite.”

“Oh ok Little Lady,” I respond over the hum of the Baby Lock.

“Hmmm.. Mom! Fishy needs some music to go to sleep. She closed her blinds, but she needs some music.”

“Ok Little Lady,” I respond, focusing on my stitching.

“Mom, Fishy’s hungryyy. I think we should go to Walmart and get ‘his’ some food.”

….

“Mom, do you want to pet Fishy?” She hops on over to the Baby Lock with hands cupped and a huge grin.

I stop the stitching flow.

“Ok!” I imply I’m feeling the same excitement over the non-existent fish. “WOW. What a nice fish this is!”

“HEHE! Yeahhh! I like him. And he likes me too.”

Ok I can go all day revamping on The Tales of Little Lady and the Fish. But point being I’m definitely getting her a fish come the 8th. A little young, yeah. But there’s two possible outcomes to this. One, she shakes and shakes the bag, trying to get acquainted to her new friend. Or two, Little Lady makes sure Fishy has a wide-variety diet, including cheese and pretzels and yogurt, and maybe some crayons.

Either way, Fishy dies. At the same time, it’ll be a great way to give her a little taste of responsibility. It’s just too bad a life will be lost in the process.

…at 3 months old

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Ms Techie decided that I’m not the nicest person to be around in public.. “I tend to embarrass” her. *Gulp*

She’s defended this decisive accusation with the following scenario:
{Ok flashback to this incident.. the fun & fancy play night}

As you guys recall, I was holding the Balboa.

This bold & daring child in front of me (about 12? ..13 maybe?) whirls herself around and swings her jacket on the back of the chair, where it’s draping over my legs. So now I’ve been decked with a nice green, polyester upholstery. Very nice.

The Bold & Daring: Uhh do you, like, mind if I, like, just put this here? (A very exaggerated point towards my curtain follows the retorical question.)

Queen: Well do you, like, mind if he like, throws up on it? (A very exaggerated point towards the Balboa proceeds.)

The Bold & Daring shoots a quick look of pure disgust and slowly removed my upholstery. Hmph, guess not then. I glanced over at Ms Techie who burried her face in her hands.

Ok so let’s analyze the situation.. was this being mean and therefore bestowing “embarrassment” upon my oh-so-mature 17 year old? I was simply reciprocating the situation for Bold & Daring.. you know.. the repetitive use of “like,” the exaggerative point of the finger, the retorical question, and the total drama queen attitude…

Personally, I was laughing to myself.. hysterically.