Shopping…

My oldest and I went to Target not that long ago. It was an interesting experience for both of us, but mainly her.

First stop MOM BRAS! Yes, mom needed a bra or two… My 15 year old didn’t handle this well at all.

At first I was escorted away from this area of the store while being told by my 15 year old child that, “You have enough bras at home. You don’t need any more.” She REALLY honestly said this to me. While shopping for other things I offered to take off my bra and show her how ratty and tattered it was. She didn’t like that idea very much and finally allowed me to pick one out (maybe two) if she could wait two rows over in socks. And I had to agree hide them under everything so no one would see them. Oh yes, and we were not allowed to talk about ‘them’ the rest of the shopping trip.

Next we were off to pick out a few shirts for my husband.

My daughter wanted to die for a brief moment when she witnessed an orange grizzly-man with his pants half on (or half off — depending on if you’re an optimist or not) trying on shirts in the middle of the t-shirt row. She told me after the ordeal was over that she expected that in Wal*Mart but not Target. LOL!!!

A few other things happened. We took a few pictures down the toy isles of gift ideas for her sisters. We even grabbed a few stocking stuffers, like lip gloss, and nail polish (although 95-97% of the stocking stuffers my hubby bought this year… alone – that’s a whole other blog post.)

After it was all done and we were in line getting ready to check out I was poked in the shoulder… Ouch!

The guy stepped back a little and apologized… plus…

I was polite and I did try to use my hand with my rings a little more when I was checking out. But he just kept flirting. It was so obvious that the casher gave me a few funny glances.  You know the type? The ‘girl-friend eye talk’ kind of glances — the ones that are screaming, “He is SOOOOOO hitting on you!!!” LOL! Anyway my daughter wanted to curl up and die. At least that’s what she said on the way out to the car. She also made a note that “Mr. Mom-Flirter” saw my new bras. And on the topic of bras — she was not pleased with my new bras either. She told me I could keep the white one but the black lace one HAD to go back.

I hope anyone out there shopping with their teen/s had a little better luck than we did. But hey, it gave me something to blog about.

The Cookie Dough Made Me Do It…

On the first of the month I started dieting. I don’t know if I’m losing weight or not, but I might be losing my mind.  Must… stay… focused…

What the…?

The cookie dough is right. I don’t really want an apple…

Hum? The baby is asleep, the 11 yo is out back, 14 yo is in her room on her cell, and hubby has his headphones on while playing a game… I should be safe. The cookie dough has a point and it does sound good. (Yes, I punned. Hehehe)

OOooooo cookie dough, how I have missed you on my diet *deep sigh*

Shhhhhhh, must be extra quiet.  I don’t want to alert anyone.

Aaah crap – busted!

Note ~ you should never eat raw cookie dough no matter what it tells you because raw eggs are bad. (I know I never follow this advice but I still should state it.  Except I never touched the stuff when I was pregnant.)

Note Note ~ Hubby wanted me to draw a red hand on the cookie dough ‘jar’ but I hate changing art work once I feel I’m done, so I didn’t.

Note Note Note ~ My fridge has a lot more junk on it like doctor appointment cards, kids artwork, kids pictures, funnies, and magnets. If I drew what it really looked like you’d think it was Jabba the Papers not a fridge

The Family Portrait…

Since we’ve had the baby we haven’t had the chance to go get a family picture taken.

When we get the chance I hope it looks like this…….

BUT I do live in reality so I am aware that more than likely it’ll look like this…

NOTE ~ Thank you JC Little for inspiring me to draw again. 

NOTE NOTE ~ I had fun drawing the last time so why not do it again.

NOTE NOTE NOTE ~ I decided I’m going to *try* and not let the gremlins do what they planned and stop me from blogging.