Society of Stampaholics

There's a Blog Hop a'Comin' & Gigi Moments

I'm starving for lunch, but I just had to share a few things!

First of all, Lily Pad Cards is turning one year old on Sunday.  Can you believe it? Where has the time gone?  

Nothing like kids and blogs to make you realize how old you're getting!

The fun will commence at Lily Pad Cards at 9:00 a.m., EST, on Sunday, April 1, 2012!

There are three prize packages with a total retail value of over $300! These prizes will be awarded by random draw. To be eligible, you need to Like us on our new Facebook page. If you would like to better your chances, you can leave comments on the blogs participating in this hop (including the Lily Pad). For each comment, you get your name entered again (but only one comment per blog, please).

We have a terrific line-up, so be sure to stop by!!!

Now onto the Gigi portion of our program!

She had two memorable moments yesterday. The first was in the car. I had just picked her up from school, and the little stinker was pestering me to take her to Steak'n'Shake for a 50% off shake. (Just what she needs - more sugar-induced energy.) But yours truly was feeling the effects of three nights with less than four hours sleep each, so the request was denied on grounds of sheer exhaustion.

Gigi: Well, will you play with me then?

Me: Play with you? Play what?

Gigi: Doctor!

Me: Doctor? [As I am not a little boy looking to further my knowledge of female anatomy, I am, of course, taken by surprise.] And just what would that entail?

Gigi: You come to my office, and I poke you with a stick!

Me: WHAT?! [Now I'm concerned. What's this about poking people with a stick? Who's been poking my child with a stick? What kind of a stick? Is this a euphemism?!] When did any doctor ever poke you with a stick?

Gigi: [rolling eyes] That one guy, remember? He opened my mouth and stuck a stick in there - I about threeeeew UP, Mom! 

Me: [Oh, for the love of Mike....] That was a togue depressor, you nut! He was trying to see if you had strep throat!

Gigi: So he had to look all the way into my stomach?

Sheesh.

Later, she was playing the Wii - a very fierce running race - and I hear her screaming, "Get out of the way, you stupid person!"

Me: Gigi! Let's not be rude. It's not okay to yell at people and call them stupid.

Gigi: I know. I'm sorry. [And she really is - she's very sweet that way.]

A few minutes later...

Gigi: Excuse me, George - gotta get by! ... Excuse me, Peter - love that hat, by the way! ... Excuse me, Annie, I'm runnin' to WIN! Pardon me, Mary Kate, but I need to be in front of you!... Little Old Lady, can you please move over some?...

And it went on like that for the rest of the game.

She's such a nut!

Our little hooligan....

Thanks for stopping and have a blessed day!

Blog Facelift

Well, it's been a rough weekend here at my blog!

I decided I was going to tidy up and reorganize and possibly try yet again to really change the old girl up, etc. And, of course, Typepad made it a miserable experience. I am so kicking myself in the bum for not choosing Blogger four years ago. What was I thinking? 

Oh, well. Things are better now - despite the fact that my poor blog looked like it had been painted by Picasso for the last 48 hours. (My apologies to anyone who arrived during this period and got a headache just looking at the mess.) 

I have sort of unofficially changed the blog's name, as well. The "& Scrap-" was unwieldy and vexing me, so I ripped it out in a fit of temper. I've got things sorted a bit, but I want a new banner in the worst way. I'm fixin' to draw one up but it will take awhile as my drawing skills are a wee bit rusty.

(I would either keep my eyes peeled or run and hide if I were you.)

On a lighter note, Gigi made us laugh today. She and Spouse were wrestling, and she was bullying him as much as she could manage, and all of a sudden, I heard her bellow, "Stop tickling me, or you will feel the RACK of my feet!" She meant the "wrath" of her foot, of course, but, given the size of her jackrabbit feet, I'm thinking Spouse may have to watch himself or something is going to be racked, and it's not going to be pretty. 

And now I'm off to the allergist for my three weekly shots and to take Gigi to the dentist for her first cavity filling... it's going to be a rough morning for mama, I suspect. 

The Importance of Stocking Light Bulbs

One should remember to buy lightbulbs so one can replace a burnt bulb immediately.

Case in point:

The light in Gigi's bathroom died yesterday. In all the excitement of her school Christmas pageant, we didn't remember to stop on the way home to pick up some lightbulbs. (Not that big a deal since she can always use our bathroom - which is what she did today.)

And while she was in our bathroom, I decided to answer the call to nature in hers. I mean, who needs a light to take a wee?

This can be a loaded question, it turns out, because my bottom didn't meet the anticipated toilet seat.

Instead, I sat on a bowl of dry Fruit Loops.

And now that I've gotten over having a sugar-coated hootie, I'm wondering exactly why there was a bowl of cereal sitting all by itself in the dark on the toilet lid....

Gigi and the Healed Paralytic

I love my daughter - she has such a way with words. And she often regales us with real zingers as we're driving home from church. (Like the time they watched a video about all the poor, starving children in the "desolate third-world country of Canada." We suspect she was referring to Cambodia - a relief for our Canadian readers, I'm sure.) 

A few weeks ago we got another good one.

If you've ever been to Sunday School, you're probably familiar with the paralyzed man whose supportive friends lowered him through a roof so Jesus could heal him. (At the risk of blaspheming, this story always gives me the giggles. I think it's because of the method of entrance. I just can't help picturing the cast of That Seventies Show scheming to find a way to get goofy Eric to Jesus and then dropping him through the ceiling.)

It could have happened that way.

So here's Gigi excitedly sharing the story of the healed paralytic:

"And Jesus said, 'Your sins are forgiven. GET UP AND WALK!'" (Yes, apparently our Lord felt the occasion warranted screaming.)

"And the man DID!!"

"He also ran, jumped, skipped, and ALL THAT OTHER STUFF! Did you know that?!"

(Well, I knew about the walking part, but I had no idea jumping and skipping were involved.)

Although this version of events is not found in the Bible, I can't help but wonder if it's not more accurate. I mean, really now! If I were paralyzed and Jesus healed me, I guess I'd be skipping, dancing, and engaging in other celebratory means of locomotion.

So there you have it. I'll bet the paralytic and all of his friends were literally jumping for joy - they'd be a pretty ungrateful lot to do otherwise, I'd think. So I think I'm going to subscribe to Gigi's version of the story - it feels more genuine. 

Gigi's First Week of School

As soon as I finish this post I have to head over to Gigi's school.

I asked her about her homework yesterday (only the third day of school) and it was discovered that she didn't remember to bring it home. We had to go back to school to get it. (One of the perks of sending your kid to a Christian school is that people know you and will unlock your kid's classroom so you can get the homework she left behind.)

So the homework was retrieved, and she was sent off to do it. I, meanwhile, had other matters to attend to immediately before and after dinner, so I was not around to supervise. I realized the homework was still unfinished when I inquired as to its status shortly before bedtime. Which meant we had to stay up past her bedtime working on it - and still didn't finish because Gigi is easily distracted: Diva walking by... a carpet stain that looks like a sheep... a coupon for laundry detergent... Diva walking by... a piece of lint in her pocket... Diva not walking by (because it's been awhile and maybe she's trapped somewhere).

Attacking the remaining math problems this morning was a real drag because Miss Thang was all cranky (because she was up too late) and beligerant (because I kept telling her to quit playing with Diva and get to the homework, already)! She also hated that she kept getting things wrong, and I kept making her do them over again until she got them right.

I did deep-breathing exercises to keep from being unpleasant, and I triumphed! I did not raise my voice or narrow my eyes or grit my teeth or threaten to beat her with a stick or any of my other tells that normally indicate that Mama is Fed Up.

Until about ten minutes after Spouse took Gigi to school, that is. 

I screamed - a gutteral screech of anguish so powerful and unnerving that Diva is still hiding under the bed.

There.

On the table....

Gigi's homework.

A stream of profanity replaced my beautiful self-restraint faster than you can scream,"Let the beatings begin!"

This is just the first week of school.

I don't know if I have the fortitude to go on.

I think heavy sedation may be required.

Hoarder Moments and a Lily Pad Fabric / Felt Challenge!

Hello, Stamper-Campers!

I've managed to make some headway in the Great Domicile Disaster of 2011. Yesterday I had Gigi move every last thing from her study area and desk (except the computer equipment) into the living room so we could get her organized and ready for school (the area was a scandal, btw).

I was at my own desk the whole time she was doing this, so I really wasn't prepared for what I saw when she announced she was finished, and I saw the fruit of her labors.

Holy Mother of Pearl.

Our living room COVERED with all of her stuff. I knew her study area was a scandal, a sty, a black mark against us all in the world of Better Homes and Gardens... but this was beyond my comprehension. I mean, I was stunned. How did she manage to cram all of this stuff into that tiny space?! If she fell down, would we ever be able to find her? And, most importantly, if she continues to do this, will I end up in the loony bin?  

I thought about taking a picture of the array, but I was too busy gaping and feeling weak in the knees to keep the camera in focus.

Needless to say, Mama held a private purging party. (Excuse the excess alliteration - I'm just not myself at present!) I have threatened to beat her with a stick if she doesn't maintain the order I've created, but I suspect she's on to the fact that I don't even own a stick. But I may have to get one if this keeps up.

Mercy, mercy, Maude! Where did I go wrong?

But enough about the miseries of my sloppy nine-year-old hoarder. Let's talk about something fun!

There is a new challenge at Lily Pad Cards: make a card and incorporate some felt or fabric! Frog's Whisker's Ink is sponsoring this challenge and is offering a $15 gift certificate to the winner, so you should go and sign up! (The challenge closes at 11:59 p.m. EST on Thursday, August 25.)

I made a card and then had a horrible accident with it thanks to Diva (our 3-month-old kitten). It was too late to re-do it, so my Liquid Pearls are a bit smeary in places.

S U P P L I E S

STAMPS: Birds with Apple Blossom (Rosewood), CL130 (Hero Arts); PAPER: DCWV; INKS: Sea Breeze, Cloud White (VersaMagic), Tuxedo Black (Memento), Black (Hero Arts), Copics; EMBELLISHMENTS: generic buttons; OTHER: felt (Giant Dwarf), embroidery floss, Liquid Pearls, Stickles, pop-dots

T O O L S

Nestabilities Label 8; Tim Holtz flower die; ink tool applicator (foam)

Gigi the "Big 'Ol Vet"

My radio silence this last week had nothing to do with Lily Pad. I had surgery on Friday, June 3, and have been doing the recovery thing. (Not to worry - everything went well, and it wasn't anything life threatening, anyway.) I did spend Monday night in the ER because I was having some questionable reactions. Gigi found the experience exhilerating, but I suspect this was because of the guy that came in shortly after we arrived.

There we were, waiting our turn, playing a game on my Kindle... and in walks a middle-aged man who's obviously been in a bar fight - and got the worst of it. Both his eyes were swollen, purple slits, his nose had obviously been broken, and the rest of his face was all busted up.

He looked, in short, like what Indiana Jones should have looked like after the fight with the big, bald guy who ended up being sliced and diced by the plane propeller in Raiders of the Lost Ark. (A nurse later told me his nose had been broken in two places.)

Busted Face Guy got on his cell phone immediately and began ranting to someone about how he was done with it, just Done With It! They'd all have to move out, he was busting his [bleepity-bleep-bleep] and nobody was doin' [bleepity-bleep-bleep] nothin' to help [bleepity-bleep-bleep] pay for the [bleepity-bleep-bleep] food - he'd bought $300 in [bleepity-bleep-bleep] groceries last week an' fed Melinda and all them [bleepity-bleep-bleep] kids and not even a word of thanks and now THIS [bleepity-bleep-bleep]. Well, he was [bleepity-bleep-bleep] DONE. Nobody could tell that [bleepity-bleep-bleep] anything and he couldn't hold down a [bleepity-bleep-bleep] job, and he was going to rip him a new [bleepity-bleep-bleep]....

The rampage went on for quite awhile and was just as colorful as his face. I looked at Bill and we had that telepathy thing that parents can sometimes do if they've been married 20 years. Did we want the child exposed to this? No, we did not. Was there anyplace else to go? No, there was not. Should we ask this man to watch his language in front of our child? Well, of course, we'd like to do just that, but he was clearly in his cups and such comment would be a red flag to a bull, so we might as well start preparing the "after this is over" speech to deliver to the kid once we were away from Busted Face Guy.

All that was communicated and agreed to in less than a second.

Gigi, however, was loving it. For somebody who generally acts about two years younger than she really is, she has these weird little pockets of incredible maturity. When she first saw the guy, her only facial reaction was the tiniest widening of her eyes before discreetly averting her gaze. Neither did she ask me what had happened to the man's face or what that smell was. She didn't really look at him again, but she was all ears - I could tell by the way she was cocking her head - just soaking up the whole ER experience....

So it was really no surprise to me this morning when she said, "Lookie, Mama, I'm a Big Ol' Vet!"

I looked up and had to laugh because she was performing surgery on a stuffed bunny - and had gone to great efforts to replicate surgery as she knew it from TV. Check it out:

Note the mandatory hospital gown and surgical glasses.

 

And here's the obligatory shot in the bum....

 

Cleaning the wound?

 

The operation was a success!

What a nut, eh?