Your Next American Idol

Dial 555 555 0543 to Vote for Ally!

Ally would like to sing you a few songs. She must first warm up her vocal chords by plucking and picking and making baby noises. We really need to find a new vocal coach.


She's almost ready now, but she's still a little shy about performing. All you may get out of this first number are the hand gestures and a few words. Pay no attention to the crazy lady singing in the background.


Next up is one of Ally's favorites. We go around and around in circles all day with this little diddy. You'll see that she's especially fond of fast and slow. Again, she can sing the whole song herself but has chosen not to. At least she's learned how to not grab for the camera every time it's in front of her.


The best for last-- Ally's encore presentation of a timeless classic. She's got the words down for this performance but conveniently forgets to do the hand motions halfway through. I guess multitasking is not her natural forte.


I hope you all enjoy watching this as much as Ally does. Can you blame her for thinking she's the most interesting thing on the Internet?

Green Day Giggles

I stole the above Flying Pickle People Mover from Ruby. (B- If you ever come visit my site and see this, you'll know that I occasionally happen upon yours as well. I find you to be quite beautiful, following in the footsteps of your older and wiser sister.)

The festive image to the right is all mine. Or mostly mine. I guess Chris could always dispute that statement by claiming some responsibility for her creation . . .

Happy St Patrick's Day, from our little leprechaun to yours. Eventually she'll grow into that hat, right?

Disappointment

We had great plans to do something crazy and spectacular tonight.
Ally was so excited to "see monster trucks with eyes". I'm not sure she fully understood what the event would entail, but she did know there'd be a large reptile and lots of cool cars. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Apparently going to the Monster Truck Show is not as odd-ball an idea as we had thought; as we pulled into the arena parking lot, we were told it had sold out. It was as if the fire-breathing dinobot had snatched our little Ally and crushed every last dream out of her right then and there. (We'll have to actually plan ahead next time and procure tickets in advance. Who would've thunk it?) Luckily, Ally still suffers from occasional short term memory loss and doesn't remember we were actually going to see the monster trucks instead of just talk about them. Besides, we were able to find something just as fun and exciting to entertain us for the evening.

First stop: Costco for some gas. Let the excitement begin!












Second stop: The mall. Because nothing heals a disappointed heart like perusing the pitiful remains of middle school Science Fair projects at the local consumerism hub. The displays had been up all weekend, but by the time we arrived at 8 pm most of them had already been torn down (or torn apart). I can only assume that the owners of the posters we saw were either (1) very proud of their work and wanted everyone to see it or (2) didn't really care about the project and had forgotten all about it the minute it was put up. I guess a third reason for abandoning their work could be that they were too busy having fun at the Monster Truck Show without us . . .
Ally and I posed by my favorite. If you click on the picture to get a larger shot, you'll see a blatant misspelling: "EXPIREMENTS". Please pay no attention to my big hair or Ally's unkempt mullet. Remember, we had a completely different destination in mind when we had left the house and so I hadn't seen the need to do our hair up all nice and fancy. . .

Hail the Mighty Styrofoam

The other day was gorgeous-- bright and sunny, puffy cottonball clouds, a slight chill to the air when the wind blew but otherwise warm. This is a picture of the sky.

Ally and I were playing inside, making a mess of things, when we heard a strange sound up on the roof. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping Ping Ping PingPingPingPing. . . Santa Clause and his reindeer dancing on stilts? We went outside to investigate, and this is what we found.

As if that weren't peculiar enough, this same thing occurred another three times that day. And the hail pellets felt like styrofoam but tasted like cotton candy. (Okay, so I was going to taste them until they felt so weird.) They stuck to my car and the shadowy places of our home for hours afterwards like a bad batch of aerated dippin' dots, refusing to melt. We live in such an odd place.
Do you think the pellets were nuclear-waste related and would've glown in the dark? I should've harvested them for further testing. I also probably shouldn't have let Ally play in them . . .

Our Man Ran to San Fran

other possible titles:
Nuestro Chico Esta en San Franci-co
Not-new Beau Flew to San 'Chew, Miss You!
Come Home Chris!











Dear BigDaddyH-

We know it's only for 2.5 days. We know we've been guilty of running away and leaving you alone for way longer in the past. We apologize for that.

Ally curled up on the bed with me tonight and blubberingly whimpered, "I miss Daddy" as a copious collection of crocodile tears streamed down her face. (Got to love her early-blossoming melodramatic skills!)


I know we'll survive, but we just wanted to say . . . We love you. Please hurry home. Phone conversations just aren't cutting it. Ally's anxious to get some more playtime in with the "cool" parent. Until your return, she'll have to settle for hugging her caterpillar and dancing with Mickey. I guess I'll have to do the same.

Hugs and Kiss,
Your Queen and Princess

PS- Dressing up like a family of Gilligans just hasn't had the same effect with no Daddy present in our lives.

PSS- Ally's already asking to bowl again.