Little Cowgirl

One day about 8 months ago, Emma declared, "Mama, I want pink cowboy boots!!"

Huh? Pink Cowboy boots? What does she know about pink cowboy boots? I laughed it off and figured like everything else, this too will be a short lived request. Maybe she saw someone on the street with pink cowboy boots. . who knows. She'll forget about it and it will be business as usual.

Well. . to my dismay (or delight. . you interpret as necessary) the request for pink cowboy boots kept coming. At least 3 times a week Em would ask for her boots. I did a little web surfing and scoffed at the selection and prices of toddler sized pink cowboy boots. I hoped she would let this go.

Did she give it up?

Nope.

Several times a week Em would ask for her boots. About 2 weeks ago I decided to start the search again. Low and behold I found a pair of good looking boots in her size for 1/2 off (for the record, it still doesn't make them cheap). I added the boots to my shopping cart and clicked buy.

Call me a pushover. Call me a sucker. Call me the mama of a well dressed kid. It's your call!

A few days after the boots arrived I finally figured out where the idea for pink cowboy boots came from. Our neighbors planter! Of course she wanted pink cowboy boots, we walk by these everyday twice a day.

If I could edit the video I would show you Em's reaction to her boots.

Did she squeal with delight?

Did she run and give me a hug and thank you?

Did she pass out from surprise?

Um, no. She looked up and said, "Where's my cowboy hat?"
Little ingrate.. . ha ha ha.

What did we do. . .say stuff it? Nope!

Brian went online and bought the matching hat. The set is now complete and she's ready to go for a ride.

Snow Bunny. . . .

Or Not. . .

Seattle isn't known for it's snow. We usually get one snow blast a year and Em has never been a fan. . . well this year is no exception.

This year I had big hopes that Em would enjoy making snowmen, throwing snowballs, and laying in the snow for the obligatory snow angel. I know better. My kid doesn't like to be dirty, wet or cold. . . and a combination of two of the three is a recipe for disaster.

She was all for it . .in the beginning. Here she is supervising Brian's snowman making. Notice she's not helping.

Now she's over it. "Can I go home now?" I think we made it to about 15 minutes. I told her she could go home if she smiled. . .this was her response.
I did get her to go down the hill on a real sled before being forced back indoors.

Obviously we weren't snow ready. . . here's our make-shift sled.

Oh yeah, we're classy!

Imagination

There's something magical about being 3. Emma's imagination has exploded and lately Emma has been taking a lot of trips. She's either a princess in a far away land, on a flight to Geneticut to see Grammy, at Tooey's pool in Virginia, or off on some other amazing adventure. This girl sure likes to travel!

This morning I had a delivery and asked Emma to bring the boxes downstairs after I unloaded them. After the third box she disappeared. Approximately 15 minutes later she runs up the stairs and yells, "All aboard, your train is getting ready to leave!!" Huh, what train? I went down to see that she had transformed the three boxes into a train complete with an engine, passenger car, and caboose. "Where are we going?" I asked. "Seattle! Hop in. Sit down!" she demanded. I got into the caboose and looked around. She had packed a lunch (crackers and juice), pretended to secure all of her babies into their imaginary seats with imaginary seat belts, she crawled into the engine, tooted her horn and off we went. Ahh, the wonders of childhood.

Adventures in Food

We've been lucky. Em is an eating machine. She will eat just about anything. When I hear my friend's adventures in picky toddlers, I sit quiet and am unable to offer any advise because my kid loves food.

Her favorites include: kale, spinach, capers, blue cheese (the stinkier the better), swiss chard, mushrooms, kalamata olives, balsamic vinegar, steak, salami, and collard greens.

Her least favorites include: eggs. She absolutely despises them. She still won't eat them in any form; scrambled, fried, poached. . . nada.

I'm pretty sure she gets her broad pallet from Brian. I'm not a very adventurous eater by any means and my list of dislikes is definitely a long one. Brian on the other hand claims he'll eat anything as long as it's not poisonous. Em definitely takes after him in this category.

On Sunday we went to the Aquarium and then had lunch at Anthony's. Brian ordered a mussel and clam dish and Em wanted a bite. Well, you know how this story goes. Em ate 1/2 of Brian's bivalves and then insisted we order her a dish of her own. Apparently bivalves need to get added to the love list. . . . who would have thought?

The blogging dilemma

So here I am 2 months after my last post facing the biggest blogging dilemma. . to post or not to post? Should I just give up?

I'm busy. I'm really, really busy.

I am a mom. A working mom raising her child at the store she's trying make successful.

I am a small business owner with two separate thriving businesses; the store and my collar business.

I have a household (or zoo) containing three dogs, 12 chickens, two fish tanks, a bird, a husband, and a child in which I'm primarily responsible for keeping alive.

I have a 35 year old body that needs some attention after three years of neglect.

I feel like I continuously try to squeeze 26 hours worth of stuff in 24 hours and have hit my breaking point.

Something has got to give. That something has been my free time. Time where I'm not picking up dog poop, chasing a child, sewing, running a shop, cooking, cleaning, walking dogs, being a taxi, etc etc etc. . . you get my point.

So the question is. . in the few rare moments that I have to myself, do I slip into a warm bubble bath with a glass of red wine (fantasizing here. . this never happens) or sit on an uncomfortable bar stool trying to think of something cute and witty to write about my day. . . or do I just go to bed and try to get sleep to recharge myself for the next day?

Then I start accessing my blog. I have very few followers. No one ever posts anything so is anyone even reading this crap?

I reach a decision. I'm okay with giving it up. Great!! It's one less thing I have to do. I don't have the time or energy and no one will miss it. Right?

Well. . . then I get an email from my mom, (hi mom) stating that my brother (hi Chad) wants to know why I'm not blogging anymore. . . hmmm. . . .

I guess that was the kick in the ass that I needed. I at least have two readers, right?

I realized that I have to take a new approach. Instead of worrying about my "story" and making this a witty replay of my child's existence I need to use this as a family album where Emma can look back and be utterly embarrassed that her mother posted X, Y, or Z about her into the world wide web for all to read. . . now that's inspiration!

So I vow to blog more. . .forgo that bottle of wine and bubble bath. . oops I mean glass. . . and I will post. . . .

With that . . .here's Suzie the Punk Rock Georgetown chicken. . a collaboration between Em and I (she did the head, I did the body) I think we have a future artist in the making. . .

Halloween Bee Princess

Initially Emma wanted to be a fairy princess for Halloween. Okay that's easy. Raid her wardrobe, throw together some fairy wings, and wha la! costume finished.

Then we took an afternoon and went on a shopping adventure. We ended up at Old Navy where they were clearancing all of their costumes and Em decided she wanted to be a bee.

I present to you her royal majesty the "bee princess". We stayed in the hood this year and went trick or treating with Em's buddies Asher, Lucy, and Pasqual.
Em and LucyAfter about 15 houses, I think she was pretty spent.

Enter the chorus of Blind Melon's "No Rain" now:

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain I like watchin' the puddles gather rain . . .

a bee costume isn't complete without a bee dance. I don't know fluent bee, but I think she's telling us the flower is down the street, around the block, and to the right.

Future Profession.

Emma wants to do hair when she grows up.

She decided that she would be her first client.

Drumroll please. . . . .

This was her work.

this is the work of a professional.

Thank you Columbia City Cuts for fitting us in on a Friday afternoon and doing such a wonderful job "fixing" Emma's masterpiece!

Right before the big "fix"
3 weeks later. . it still looks good!