New Year's Out of the Mouths of Babes - Ask Amanda

More from Ask Amanda Advice for Moms

First thing out of her mouth New Year's Day- No 'Good Morning'.
She must have had a sad night.

Ask Amanda, the funny things kids say.

"Mommy since Jake and Sam are going to grow up am I?"
"I don't know what you mean?  Of course!"
"Last night you said Jake and Sam are going to get a year older but you said nothing about me!"
"Huh?  Oh!  You mean because I said in the New Year Jake will be seven and Sam will be eighteen?"
"Yes, but you said nothing about me.  Am I going to get  older too?"
"Awww.... Of course!  You'll be turning five this year."
"Good because when  you were talking you said nothing about me."

Then...

"Jake, I'm going to be five this year!  I'm going to make my second birthday on Easter like Jesus because he has two birthdays."

These are a few of MY favorite things: cute pictures for Pinterest

My Favorite things include adorable baby bunny picture and Christmas tree in snow

Not necessarily in any order, (I've been suffering from writer's and crafter's block lately, so if I have to organize them it will turn into the post that wasn't). My favorite things include baby bunnies, a spider, and Christmas Trees. Enjoy!

Christmas tree in snow with colored lights.

1. Snow covered Christmas Lights on Evergreen Trees. I LOVE how the light glows under the snow.

Can you smell the puppy breath?

2. Puppy Breath. 'Nuf said.

Book by Robert Kraus, How Spider Saved Halloween.

3.  Halloween! Inspired by my favorite book ever. I LOVE the illustrations. I love the story about bullying. Kraus writes several books in the Spider series. Check my pages above for more info.

Jake's journey in art started here.

4.  Inspired Art. My son comes from a line of artists, but art isn't his thing. He is a straight A+ student- except for an A- in art. When my daughter and I paint and craft, he plays computer games. The other day, he sat down and painted this portrait of Santa!  

He used the entire page. It is truly amazing - "A Kid's Perspective of Santa". His Uncle designed the characters and worked on 'Call of Duty' Black Ops for Activision (among other things).  

If the Presidency thing falls thru, I think he might just have a back-up plan. I  LOVE that it isn't just a picture of Santa in the middle of the paper.

Kitty paws.

5. Kitty Paws. Especially, touching my chin.

Hot Air Balloons.

6. Hot Air Balloons. Here is a local Balloon Voyage anyone can experience.

Bunny ears, I adore this picture! :)

7. Toddlers. I think we are 3 and 5 here. Wow, 4 and 6 is so different. See that Balloon in the background? It's the Energizer Bunny which brings me to...

Cute Baby Bunny.

8. Bunnies. I just LOVE them. I miss my sweet fuzzy, cuddle bunny. Kids, cats, turtle, bird = no time for baby bunnies.  Maybe when the kids leave the nest. Wait, I'll be how old? 

Reminiscing is good too.


*This is one of my very first POSTS. If any of these images are yours, please let me know so I can give proper credit. 


Recommended Reading:


Birthday Party Game for Kids

Leo the Late Bloomer*

A Wish to Be A Christmas Tree*







ADS DISCLOSURE: We've partnered with some wonderful advertisers who may sponsor blog posts or send us samples to test. Some companies pay us to review their products.

*We also use affiliate links, if you make a purchase we get a tiny commission. Kids Creative Chaos participates in the Amazon LLC Associates Program*, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a mean for blogs to earn advertising fees by linking to Amazon properties, including, but not limited to, amazon.com, endless.com, myhabit.com, smallparts.com, or amazonwireless.com. We also offer Tapinfluence, Google Adsense, SoFab, and Izea ads here. Thanks so much for helping us keep the lights on! :)

What's for Christmas? Teen Heartbreak-Part One

Teen Heartbreak and Advice for Girls: Beware of Holidays

Teen Holiday Heartbreak.

A big-fat break-up wrapped with a puke-colored bow and sprinkled with salty tear-sparkles, that's what.

Boys suck.  You know they do- even if you have one of your own. It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? Try telling that to a heartbroken teenage-girl after her first boyfriend breaks up with her thru a text message three days before Christmas.

She thinks I have ESP. Perhaps I do, whatever you call it I have an Extraordinary Mother's Instinct. I saw it coming.  In fact, I've been there more than once. Although, I must confess, I am happy with the end result; I cannot bare the pain I see in her eyes.

At the beginning of the semester her Honor's English teacher called to say she is failing English (the fifth English Teacher in a row).  We discussed options and made the tough decision that extra-curricular Jazz Band would have to go. Said boy = Jazz Band.

One tiny paragraph stood in her way between passing class and extra-curricular activity bliss. Three weeks ago her Honor's English teacher called to say she is still failing English. One tiny paragraph stands in her way blocking her from passing with a D-!  The same paper.  Teacher loves her, "I cannot comprehend this."

"Me too", I lie.

I struggled with what to do -with what to take away.  The teacher says she is an excellent student. Teacher has no explanation for the outcome. She's tried everything. So have we. Band is all consuming...

Well, at least I thought it was band, but of course it was said boy.  Did I mention that boy's suck?

So, we grounded her until second semester and exiled her from band for the rest of the year.  You cannot go anywhere but 'Sucky Boy' can come to our house.  He can go to Thanksgiving, to the Family Office Party, he can come hang and watch movies, go to lunch, go sledding- you get the drill.

He couldn't find the time.  He didn't want to come over to our house.  He kept asking her to do things that he knew she couldn't do- frustrating her beyond words. Elevating her anger with her evil parents. "Why does he keep asking me to do stuff he knows I can't do?"  I knew the answer but I kept my mouth shut.

I wanted to say, "Because he knows you can't and this way he can keep stringing you along.  He gets to keep you on a rope and still have his fun."  Instead, I said, "What are we going to buy 'Sucky Boy' for Christmas?"  Wait remove the quotes I didn't say that exactly.  I politely used his name and smiled sweetly waiting for ideas to throw my hard-earned money away- on a boy who can't even use the telephone to speak words.

That's right- there aren't any late night 'I love yous' or 'Sweet Dreams' no 'I just needed to hear your voice'- Just some crappy text that say things like,  "What Up?" or "Okay Then".  Is this modern love and I'm just an old-fashioned old lady at forty-one?

My instincts were correct as usual.  Apparently, 'Sucky Boy' had his eye on someone else.  In my daughter's absence he's been spending time with 'the other woman'. I remember holidays with my boyfriend.  He went everywhere with me.  I didn't find out he was a 'Sucky boy' for years!

Her 'Sucky Boy' says, "I can't wait until January when you aren't grounded."

Excuse me? Wait for what?  Good riddance, fair weather friend.  
Merry Christmas 'Other Woman'.

And then technology hit the fan-  He changed his Facebook status and seconds later an influx of text messages filled her inbox. "OMG!" and "What's going on?" "Are you okay?"  Every time the phone vibrated she cried.

We did what any awesome parents would do; we took the phone away. But I'm a sucker and I let her use mine to text her best-friend.  Minutes later it zinged to remind me I had a unread message.  Sucky Boy was texting her back.  "Y wut?"

I'm angry at myself for giving her my phone.  Angry at her for texting him "Y?"  And angry at him for sucking so much. Really? "Y wut?"  He's such a lame.

So, I'm thinking, 'Thank you for ruining our holiday stupid boy and a true, heartfelt Thank you for ending it now rather than after the holidays which would make you look even more sucky in my eyes. And a GREAT BIG THANK YOU for saving me the money of purchasing an awesome gift for an unworthy recipient.'

What do you think? Is it better to break-up before the holidays or try to be 'polite' and do it after to save feelings? I had a boyfriend who would break up with me before my birthday or Christmas so he didn't have to buy me a gift. "For Reals."

I dedicate this post to all the texting teenagers out there.  Write a letter.  Use your voice. Even if your 'Sexting'   it is still a detachable relationship.  IT'S NOT REAL. It's too easy to type, "It's over."  Why not try saying that eye to eye?  Man up now before it is too late because many men never do.

Look for Part Two next week, "Why Sucky Boys Make Me Cry"

Bigfoot is a Ho' - Jake's Jokes for Kids

Jake's jokes and funny things kids say.

Jake the jokester.

Jake's Jokes: The Joke might have been on Jake, but it cracked us all up. Last night, I listened to Jake read for the first time since the teacher told me he reads and comprehends at 12th grade level. It is amazing- he rarely slows to sound anything out- even the words that give me pause. My tears fell on the pages of his book while he read aloud.  And then tonight...
 
Amanda:  Is Bigfoot real?

Jake:  (As it sounded to my ears) No!  He's just a great, big Ho' Axe.

Mommy:  (Worriedly) What's a Ho' Axe?

Sam:  Hoax!

Daddy:  Ho' Axe...  And SAM figured it out first!

Mommy:  Hoax!  He's a hoax?  It depends who you ask.  
Jake, great sounding out of the word, but we pronounce it Hokes.

Jake:  Ohhh...  It looks like Ho' Axe. (laughs)

I really like thinking about Bigfoot being a great, big Ho'...       Axe.

See more Jokes for Kids in our tabs above.

P.S.  Last night I warned him that if you don't ask for help you may misread a word your entire life. For me it was laughter. Lawter. I can't see it without reading Lawter.  Thank Goodness we caught this one before it was too late.

Toothfairy Burglary? Includes free toothfairy and teeth clipart

Tooth fairy... the saga continues with Teeth printable.

This really happened.

A full set of teeth makes for a lonely tooth fairy.

 I think I will write a book called "The Toothfairy Sagas", it will include all the free toothfairy clipart.  I know back-story is frowned upon in the blogosphere but you need a little info.  So...

Jake lost another tooth.

Okay. So, in a past life I lived with an alcoholic. If booze came into the house it lasted less than 24 hours nevermind how much of it entered. Thank goodness the past is the past.

My S.O.and I  have a liquor cabinet above the fridge and another above the microwave.  We have lots of liquor.  His Dad sends us various things from various countries that he visits and we purchase rum, vodka, even whiskey to make mixed drinks for New Year's Eve or other celebrations. We have liquor as old as our oldest child who is twenty-two. The cabinet has survived two teenagers without a locked door.  Needless to say... we don't really drink. I guess I should throw some of it out but that requires work.

This info may seen irrelevant, but I figure some may assume 'I got my drink on'- that would explain a lot.

Now, those of you who know us personally might become fearful as you read this, but I think I solved the mystery. So hold your breath until the end.


Wait, don't, it's kind of a long story, you might die.


THE SAGA BEGINS...

During the trip home from a holiday party last Saturday night, Jake lost another tooth. It was late. We were tired!  It was the day I took all of the kids sledding for the first time after a long day at a craft fair. When he held his tooth up in the air with a big smile- my smile turned upside down.

I must stay awake until he went to sleep or worse wake up in the middle of the night. Luckily, he was worn out and fell asleep quickly.

Around midnight I snuck into Daddy's wallet, snuck into Jake's room and tossed (yes, tossed) a dollar at his face quickly returning to the warm bed awaiting me.

I slept. It was to be a spectacular night for sleeping. No one would wake me up!  Everyone was so tired.

When what to my wondering ears should I hear?
But a boisterous crash at the top of the stairs and several loud bangs that brought me to fear.

Earlier in the evening I could not sleep for fear- no one had remembered to lock the front-door.

Begrudgingly, I drug myself out of bed, headed downstairs and found I was right as my feet hit the foyer floor.
I trodded back up and fell fast asleep until ...

All of a sudden I arose from my bed, threw off the blanket, slammed my feet on the floor and flew out the door. I shouted at Daddy but he did not care. "Go away, go away, I'm trying to sleep!" He began to swear.

As I approached the hall I saw the stairway gate crashed to the floor.
I shouted to Daddy, "Please wake-up! I think someones here."

He mumbled and grumbled and closed his eyes tight.
"I'm sure its the cat.  Now come back to bed it's the middle of night!"

Of course, I couldn't listen.  I must see for myself.  So, I ran to the kid's room where...

Jake had been sleeping, "Hey Mommy she came, but this time she forgot my tooth!"
"Jake did you hear that?"
"Did you try to go downstairs?"
"Hear what?  I woke up because you're yelling."
"Shoot!"  At least he didn't suspect me the tooth fairy.

I ran to my teenager's room where she lay- fast asleep.
I switched on her light, tore open her covers-
and sure enough she was sleeping, just like the others.

My mind could not rest so in a flash; I ran back downstairs.

Grabbing a roll of holiday wrap, held up like a bat-
Looking in closets, behind chairs and under couches- all I ever found was the cat.

Until...

The sliding doors in the kitchen were unlocked and slightly open!

I held my gift wrap tightly and started to shiver.
This detective work is not for those with a lily liver.
No wet footprints dirtied the floor.
No water from melted snows tickled my toes (that's right, snows).

So, still clutching my wrapping, I ran back upstairs defeated and scared.

Amidst the snoring, I quickly uncovered a rather difficult clue.
At the end of the gate was a Budweiser bottle cap in a Christmas-red hue.

Was it a drunken Christmas mouse?
No one here had any beer at the party.
We don't have any beer in the house.

My first thought was fear.
My second one anger.
Tooth Fairy is having a very bad year.

The Tooth Fairy.

Disclaimer:

Although the story is completely true after some digging I remembered a clue. All of the children claimed not to recognize said bottle cap.  "Did you find it outside playing in the snow and put it in your pocket?"  I just couldn't let it go.  "No, no, no!"

I seem to vaguely remember the littlest one collecting a cap after a late, November trike ride. It was shiny, she liked it.

Although I assumed she threw it away, I suspect said cap came here to stay.


Recommended Reading:


Toothfairy Failed

Toothfairy Failed Again

Dear Tooth Fairy*

The Night Before The Tooth Fairy (Reading Railroad)*

Peeping Tom? Still Suffering from a Load of Junior High Lack of Self Esteem

Confessions of Self Esteem Issues in Junior High

Remember how you hated junior-high - we all suffered with a lack of self-esteem. Here is my story. Enjoy!

Sponge Bob in Marching Band.

Hey you, I see you there. Are you a Peeping Tom? Junior High is the worst. Are you still suffering from a lack of self-esteem? We all struggle with life in those awkward teen years. Here's my take.

Shh...  Don't tell anyone. I like to window peep, strike that, make it love.  I love to window peep especially during the holidays.  Driving thru the city with the clever vise of looking at Christmas lights, I secretly spy on families thru their picture windows. It's neat to see what they are doing -to notice their dining room decor or their living room doings.  I'd never hop out of the car, knock on the door, and scream, "Hey, I'm watching you!"


No, I'd never do that.

Why do we like to know when someone reads our blog?  Why do we ask them to advertise our button to share the love?  Two years ago, when I launched my blog I worried about who might see or read it.  I got a few blog hoppers who asked me to visit their blogs. I discreetly perused other blogs for ideas and ways to improve mine.  I never left a comment.  I didn't want anyone to know I had stumbled upon their most personal thoughts.  Mostly, I wondered why I would want other bloggers to read my blog.

I wanted readers, fans, followers, anything but bloggers...  Now I get it.

Bloggers are our equals.  Bloggers will become friends.  Friends will become followers and fans.

So, why do I still hide much of the time?  Most bloggers know I've visited because they keep track. I look at many blogs everyday following anyone who asks me to, and I visit other blogs, but I only read a few.  One of my favorites is "I'm a Lazy Mom".  Why?  Because, I am a lazy Mom.  It validates my life.  It makes me feel okay with my lazy, little secrets.  In a recent post she discusses cleaning the stove off with a vacuum.  Been there, done that!  I peek in her window a couple of times a week -she didn't ask me too- but I'm sure she doesn't mind.

Why, then, do I feel uncomfortable about peeking into a blog that is written by someone I know in real life?  I've read several blogs written by friends and acquaintances from high-school, but I rarely go back for more.

 A girl, okay a woman, I went to school with, blogs regularly.  Apparently, she's been doing it for awhile.  I pop in and covet her header, her followers, her style. I knew her in high-school. We weren't exactly friends, but we weren't enemies either. At least, I don't think so.

I don't really know much about her. Whenever I talked to her, I liked her, but we rarely talked. I heard an occasional hearsay comment about this or that from her brother or my boyfriend who were best friends.  I made assumptions about her through hearsay as I expect she did about me.

She was a cheerleader and I was band-geek.  A cool, band-geek I might add.  I played the bass guitar in Jazz Band.  The point is we had different interest and different classes. The last time I remember having her in class was in eighth grade, I think.  Oddly, I sometimes confuse her with another girl.  I think this is because they were both nice to me at times, and I didn't know what to do with it.

You see, I felt geeky most of the time. Yep, I know we all did; too bad  we didn't know that then. Both girls were pretty and popular.  Apparently, I was too, but I didn't understand that back then. I was an awkward skinny, terrible-toothed, little girl until the fourth grade. I got cuter for a second, and next thing I knew I was a chubby puberty-bound girl with a fat face.

The summer before seventh grade apparently something changed.

Bert and Ernie.

Seventh Grade.  Yuck.  All of the elementary schools meet up.  New faces. New friends.  New people to tease me.  They called me "Jimmy Carter" and "Big Lips".  I smiled a lot and had, get this... big lips.  They told me I had bushy eyebrows like Brooke Shields and a uni-brow like Bert.  I guess today that would be considered bullying?

I was clumsy.  I could  can trip over nothing.

I plucked my eyebrows to nothing.  Oh, how I wish I had Brooke Shield's eyebrows to sculpt today.  Please explain to me how having "Brooke Shield's" eyebrows transpired to lowered self-esteem?

The first thing my husband said to me when he saw me - you and your lips remind me of Angelina Jolie. (Wonder if he still thinks that two kids later?)  Brooke Shields?  Angelina Jolie?  Smiling all the time?  Aren't kids nuts?  Today, those things make me blush.  What extraordinary, backhanded  compliments for a middle-aged, overweight, has-been.

So, I confuse these two pretty girls because they both complimented me during Junior-High.  One spoke to me for the first time after gym in the locker room.

"Are you trying out for cheerleader?"
I blushed.
I laughed.
I said, "No!", as if it were the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard.

It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard.

Why would she ask that?  Was she teasing  me?  Of course not.  At that moment, I lost a potential new friend.  She later became one of my best-friends, best-friends.  I never really talked to her again.  How rude and nasty she must have thought I was... I bet she never knew I thought she was beautiful and untouchable, someone who couldn't possibly want me as a friend.

Tortoise Shell Glasses.

Back to the blogger.  I think she once told me she liked my clothes.  Another time, my hair. Preposterous! I think both girls were in that eighth grade English class.  I didn't care for the snobby, preppy teacher and the feeling was apparently mutual.  One day, she asked if anyone knew what kind of glasses she was wearing. The other girls, fashionably aware, raised their hands.




My best sweater came from Sears and had my initials neatly embroidered on the front.  The preppy teacher called on me!  I figured she picked on me to humiliate me.  I looked around and thought, "Of course, they know the answer!"  Why didn't she call on them?  I had no idea so I blurted, "Bifocals"?  I don't know.



Wow.  No... apparently not bifocals.  If the teacher didn't like me before...  Yikes.

Everyone laughed, but I didn't get the joke.  I was red from ear to ear.
'You're so stupid,' I thought to myself.

Now, I get it.  Oops!

The irritated, English teacher called on one of the prettier, popular girls.  The girls whose hair and clothes I coveted, their smiles, and bubbly personalities, and their confidence.

"Tortoise Shell?"

"TORTOISE SHELL!  What the heck?"

The teacher looked back at me.

"I've never heard of that!"

"Of course you have," she grunted. (She thought I was a royal b who purposely said bifocals to make a mockery of the situation. I didn't even know what bifocals were. To me, they were just a type of eyeglasses.)

No, I really hadn't. I may have looked like a fashionista in my garage sale, K-mart, Hill's, and Sears clothing, but I'd never even been to a mall until eighth grade.

My mother always ironed my clothes. I obsessed that everything matched perfectly all the way down to my socks.  I appeared to be a preppy.  Other kids would call me a 'Prep' with a nasty glint in their eye.  I didn't really know what a prep was, but I sure knew I didn't want to be one.  Unfortunately, even though I couldn't afford Ralph Lauren, Gloria Vanderbilt, or Nike's in eighteen colors I was a prep.

In retrospect, the teacher probably called on me because she assumed such a stylish, popular, pretty, young girl would know the answer.  Again, I cast a stone against them (all three of them) without warrant or intention.

I dated boys because they asked me too; rarely because I wanted to. I didn't want to hurt their feelings.  It never lasted long.  They moved on when they realized nothing was about to happen.  So when a cute boy asked me to the carnival I decided to meet him there.

We waited in line to ride the octopus and he combed his hair.  He combed his hair in glare of the adjacent car.  He wore a comb in his pocket.  That was that.  End of story.  Back then, I heard this girl, now turned blogger, liked him and was upset with me.  If you know anything about me, you know I am nothing if not naive.  Again, I cast a stone.

My boyfriend was a hussy.  He told stories on himself all the time.  He told stories about blogger-girl.  She unknowingly cast a stone against me or maybe not.  Maybe it was intentional pay back.  Maybe it never happened.  I don't know.  I don't care.  It never mattered.

I always liked blogger-girl's point of view; apparently, I still do.

I follow her, but I try to hide my visit when I see myself show up on the Blog-Frog button.  I feel my face burning like I am doing something wrong.  What if she thinks I am spying on her?

The truth is, I like her blog.  I like her style.  If I didn't know her personally, I'd be telling her how awesome I think her blog is and how much I enjoy her postings.

Oh I don't know... she probably thinks she is lazy and imperfect but there are different levels of imperfection to consider here.  It seems she likes nice things.  It looks like she takes care of herself.

I am a lazy, mom blob.  I don't know if we'd ever be friends in the real world, but I really like her blog; it makes me smile. I read it whenever I get the chance. Is it because I enjoy peeping into her life- seeing how her life turned out? Or is it because her writing entertains me and her anecdotes often bring a tear to my eye or have me laughing out loud?  You decide.  It's a great blog, so I'll share a link, http://www.sellabitmum.com I'm tired of deleting my visits.




Don't worry, I sent her a head's up so she can read this too. This is my Olive Branch for the week.  'Tis the season go out and extend your own Olive Branch today.

This post is dedicated to my teenage daughter who will one day understand what it means to feel beautiful.


You Might Also like:  What's on Your Mind?


Recommended:

Teen's Guide to World Domination*

Teen Pages






ADS DISCLOSURE: We've partnered with some wonderful advertisers who may sponsor blog posts or send us samples to test. Some companies pay us to review their products.

*We also use affiliate links, if you make a purchase we get a tiny commission. Kids Creative Chaos participates in the Amazon LLC Associates Program*, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a mean for blogs to earn advertising fees by linking to Amazon properties, including, but not limited to, amazon.com, endless.com, myhabit.com, smallparts.com, or amazonwireless.com. We also offer Tapinfluence, Google Adsense, SoFab, and Izea ads here. Thanks so much for helping us keep the lights on! :)

Ask Amanda "Mommy You Look Beautiful"

Sweet words out of the mouths of babes, Ask Amanda for Advice

Amanda has opinions. In this "Ask Amanda" column, we share her advice and quotes. She's got some doozies!

This links contains post affiliate links.

Ask Amanda for the truth.

My significant other never, ever says a word when I have a bad hair day or when I have a bad face day or when I have a bad bloat day. So, it came as quite a surprise when we were out to lunch and he grimaced, "Did you remember to comb your hair today?"

At first I thought it was a joke. I had looked in the mirror before I left and thought 'I look better than usual'. I had even made the extra effort to apply make-up.

Whenever I'm sick, I tend to look better than when I'm well. I rarely wear makeup. If I have something to do outside the house, I might throw on mascara and lip stain. But, I'm sick, I go the extra-inch and add powder or (my new favorite thing) eraser by Loreal. It was cold. My hair felt slightly frizzy, but I felt good about my overall appearance in my flawless wrinkle remover.

Aghast? I have no wrinkles- just a few seniority lines on my forehead and at the corner of my eyes from scrunching my face into smirks far too many times. By the by, I got this makeup stick for free. It normally retails for around $30; a price I would never pay for anything, much less for makeup.

Chris grabbed a glob of my hair, "It looks like Jake's does in the morning, all mangled." Quickly searching the inner depths of my brain, I wondered...  Did I remember to comb my hair today?

Yes! I combed my hair with a brush with no handle. My brush is always walking out of the bathroom. It never stays in one place. Amanda screamed, "Don't brush my hair, don't brush my hair!" So, I brushed her hair right after I pulled the little wiry, oval thru my bangs and sides. She took off into another room and I made chase.

Amanda's hair looked beautiful when I dropped her off at pre-school.

Before meeting up for lunch, I combed my fingers thru my sides and pulled my hair back with sunglasses.I plan to invent lens free hair-glasses one day. Headbands hurt and make me feel like Hillary Clinton. Did I brush the back of my hair? Signs point to No.

I can't wash my hair everyday or it turns brittle and breaks into a thousand tiny pieces all over my clothes. It has nothing to do with hair product or styling equipment its just always been crappy hair. I washed it, put it in a scrunchy, started blogging and fell asleep.

Yes, Kathy a scrunchy! (Kathy, once posted on her Facebook page that she was not aware scrunchies were back in style. She wasn't speaking of me, but I resemble that remark.

Oh, I know the real answer, but ponytail holders break my hair. Scrunchies are so much nicer for the lazy likes of me. I woke up around 2:00 a.m. and pulled the scrunchy ponytail out. If only I had taken a picture of the mess. 

So, the next morning, I decided to tame the wild hairs with a curling iron.

"Why are you doing that," asked Amanda.

"My hair is yuck and I look ugly," I replied thoughtlessly.

"Well, I don't think you look ugly. I think you look beautiful, Mommy."

This from a rotten little, mean-girl, my arch-nemesis. Instead of crying, I said, "Thank you."

"Yea, 'cuz did you know, I know that you always look good? You can ask me anytime and I will tell you."

"Thank you, Amanda! That is so sweet. I love it when you are nice to me."

"You're welcome 'cuz it's true. Mommy, you look beautiful, you really do."

The expression on her face was priceless. I'm sure mine was too.

Recommended:

More Ask Amanda

Jake's Jokes for Kids

The Toothfairy Fails Again and Free Clipart

Our tooth fairy saga continues with more free fairy clipart printables for you.

The Tooth Fairy is watching.

So, the toothfairy struck again. 

(Be sure to click around for free clipart)

Last night before going to sleep, Jake informed me that he lost his tooth...  literally. He refused to go to sleep until we found it. Mommy won the battle. I explained that the Tooth Fairy had a list of all the teeth that came out each day. Every time someone lost a tooth a bell rang at her house. She knows she is behind schedule and will surely come to our house first (in other words; GET TO BED).  

On his way to bed, Jake grumbled, "If the tooth fairy doesn't come tonight, I'm over it!"

Around midnight, I tripped over some shoes, fumbled to turn the volume down on his television, and did the necessary deed. He rolled over and looked at me! So, I calmly kissed him good night and went back to bed.

This morning, the noisy Daddy woke him up. Daddy found the money sticking out of a pillow and handed it to Jake. When I entered his room to get his clothes, Jake held up the empty baggy. Confused, I asked him if the tooth fairy had come.  

"No!"

  

"No?  Where's your tooth?" 

"I told you, I lost it!"

"Ohwww...  I thought you lost the whole bag!  You lost just the tooth?"

"YES! She didn't come. She didn't take the bag!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes; I have $2, but I think Daddy just gave it to me right now!"

"?#$% ^&!"

Well, I don't know about Jake, but I'm over it. Next time it is Daddy's deal.

Post Note:  

To his credit, Daddy tried to explain he had found the money under the pillow, but what kid is gonna believe that?

Recommended Reading:

The Night Before The Tooth Fairy (Reading Railroad)*


The Tooth Fairy Failed

The Toothfairy Failed the first time (includes cute free toothfairy clipart)

Toothfairy Stories and Clipart

Last night, the tooth fairy must have stayed out late partying. 

Today, she's a no-show, no-call. Apparently, she has a hang-over.  How rude!  She didn't even call to apologize.  

Of course, I didn't tell my son this theory. No, I thought it best to shelter him from the wild doings of a floozie fairy at least until he's a little older.

Check out the cute toothfairy clipart

Print as a gift tag from the tooth fairy.

What do you say to a six-year-old who let his tooth float by a thread for a week, carefully sheltering it with his tongue, as each murderous morsel attempted to fling it to death?  He protected that tooth like a precious diamond. With each day, the idea of the gifts it would bring filled his little head with joy- and now this...

Tooth Fairy Free Printable Coloring Sheet right click to save and print 
or click here for Free PDF.

I was up late blogging, learning the ropes to make buttons and baubles. I simply refused to stay up past 'Saturday Night Live'. Egads! When the ending credits started rolling, I turned off my monitor and headed to bed. Discreetly, I tip-toed into my kid's bedrooms to confirm that everyone was safe, sound, and breathing. I turned down "Todd World", and then I hit the hay. 

The next thing I remember, the sun began seeping through the crack in my curtains beckoning my busy children out of their beds. My son awoke groggy. I sent him to the potty first to buy some thinking time. He moved slowly, as I waited impatiently.  

"Jake, hurry I need to pee too!"  

He didn't hurry. In fact, he stopped in his tracks holding a tiny, plastic bag in the air.

"She didn't come."   

"What?"  I said in mock shock.  

"The tooth fairy didn't come!  I still have my tooth."

I interjected, "Don't you have to pee? I know I do." Then, I danced around the issue both literally and figuratively while searching for a fabulous excuse. As I waited for my turn at the potty, I said, "I bet you got up too early and nearly caught her in the act. Let's try again tonight."  

His toothless frown turned to an angry rant, "No!  I didn't see her. She just didn't come."  

Finally, I got my turn at the potty and took a moment to gather my runaway thoughts. Returning with a renewed mind and spirit, I explained that the tooth fairy is a very busy lady. "I stayed up too late last night, and we all got up too early this morning. She didn't have a chance to sneak into your room. She probably planned to come back, but got busy with all the other kid's teeth. I bet she feels terrible! I am sure she'll make it up to you tonight."

And then...

I reprimanded his Daddy who had tucked him into bed the night before. "A little help here please. I can't remember everything!"   

That floozie fairy better not forget us again tonight! I'm gonna set a trap...


Recommended Reading:


The Night Before The Tooth Fairy (Reading Railroad)*

The Tooth Fairy Fails Again

Introducing My Kid's Columns

Character Descriptions of the KCC Kids

Kids are full of irony, among other things, and they always seem to have something important to say.  So, I'll be starting a new column series based on the crazy things my kids say.

Meet my real family:

Samantha,  a teenager, dubbed "The Queen of Duh".  A title happily handed down by me. She's sometimes witty, more often socially inept, and always judgemental. "I'd never do that!" She wouldn't, but she's done worse. Join us weekly for "Samantha Says". Gain valuable insight into the teen mind.

Jake, a six-year old going on forty. He's bookish, gamish, and socially amiss. Jake views the world through a refracted lens. He's always ready to explain why your wrong and he's usually right.  Even so, he says the darndest things. Look for "Jake's Jokes", they'll have you laughing out loud.

Amanda, Oh my. My Arch Nemesis. A four-year old with a big personality.  She's spunky, independent, and obstinate. She tells it like she sees it. Be careful, Amanda's advice is not for anyone with fragile psyche. Got a question?  "Ask Amanda".



Recommended Reading:

Yes, Your Teen is Crazy!: Loving Your Kid Without Losing Your Mind*

My Quotable Kid: A Parents' Journal of Unforgettable Quotes*
















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