Cutie, cute, cute

I really don't have all that much to write about.  I just wanted to update the blog so that people don't think I'm dead.  Christmas was fine, we had a nice time together.  I think that what makes Christmas so special and not-so-special is that it never ends.  I'm always excited on the beginning end of the celebrations-Thanksgiving (anymore it's just an early Christmas), the Christmas program (more on that later...maybe), Christmas parties, family, etc.  But then, anytime after about December 26th, I just burn out.  I'd love to take the tree down, in years past I have, but we have one more round of "holidaying" to do with J's mom.  We'll see if I make it that far with the tree.  Maybe if my house was big enough that the tree wasn't in my main living space, it would fare better.  Alas, it is in my way and will be destroyed shortly.

Here's some photos, though.

"That Mom"

I just got back from Target, and I realized that I'm one of "those moms" today.  Maizie was having a horrible time.  I don't know why, she actually woke up really sad today so I should have known it wouldn't be a good day to be out, but I have an agenda, and I do not often stop to think about what my girlies might need.  We started out okay, we went to the Y, I left them in good hands for 30 minutes while I exercised.  Maizie made a craft and drew with markers.  I really like going right at 9:15, because the staff that work at that time are really great. 

Anyway, we went to Target, spent a lot of time in the toy aisle, and I even got some stocking stuffers for the girls.  I'm still sort of  sneaky (or my kids are just too little to know that I'm putting their gifts on the bottom of the cart), but Maizie almost catches on.

Then we went to get the groceries, and Maizie started acting super terrible.  She was fussing and crying.  Maizie is usually a peach in Target & grocery stores.  No joke, I have lucked out. But when she threw the string cheese out of the cart, I should have left.  I always said I would leave the cart and go if things like that happen, but I had already gotten so much done!  I had so much left to do!  How could I leave?  I mean, getting the yogurt and MM filled candy canes seemed so important.  So she kept crying.  I threatened horrible things.  Then I took her out of the cart and she scraped her knuckles somehow.  Then she started bawling.  And I became "that mom."  

"You'll be fine.  It's just a little scrape.  You need to get some self-control.  I'm sorry your knuckles are bleeding and that you probably need to go potty and that your breakfast was totally non-nutritious and that you are cramped with a huge coat in a tiny cart and that you can't touch anything here, but I need to finish this all-important shopping trip and I need to get this stuff done so that I don't have to come out later in the cold because I am tired and I am busy and I don't have time for you to have a bad day!" 

When is the last time God has done that to me?

"Katie, you need to get it together, because I have

 so much to get done and don't have time for your petty little problem.  No matter that you're in pain, it's not that much pain compared to all the things that need to happen in the world today, and it's what you deserve anyway.  I need to keep the earth in orbit, make sure all the seasons are running properly, deal with famine, save lives, count hairs, and watch sparrows.  I don't have time for you to have a bad day."  

You get the picture.

Thank you God, that 3 year olds are extremely forgiving.  And that Clifford, hot-dogs, a Hello Kitty band-aid, and a brand new (ex-stocking-stuffer) Candyland work wonders to mend a discouraged 3-year-old heart.  

The American Girls Store

The Mall of America is opening a new store VERY soon.  IT's the American Girl Store.  See here if you have no idea.  www.americangirl.com

Anyway, I have been in love with these dolls probably as long as they've existed.  Since 1986.  I've gotten and poured over the catalogue.  I know all of their names and stories.  And now the actual store is opening here.  I can finally go see all of the dolls, accessories, books, even their beds.    

But I'm 27 years old.  

So here's what I'm going to do, I think.  Someday soon (like in the next 2 years), I am going to book a wedding, I am going to use some of the profits I make to buy two dolls and accessories (over $250-yikes!).  I will carefully brush their hair and dress them up.  And then, even though it will probably creep my husband out, I will put them on shelves in my room.  WAY up high.  I can play, I mean DUST them whenever I want.  Because they will technically be mine.  I may even buy them outfits at those garage sales that say "American Girl Clothes Boutique."  

And then, when the girls are big enough, they can play with them.  

I get this idea from my mom, who had these little ceramic cats and urns.  And I LOVED them. I played with them whenever I could, but I always had to ask.  They were teeny tiny, don't ask me why she had them, but I loved to build museums for them with my wooden blocks.  It was amazing.  And they were so special b/c they were hers and I had to be so careful with them. Once I broke the tail off of the tiniest kitten.  The nice thing about my mom is that it wasn't that big of a deal.  (Now ask me about the time I got gum on her sandals, and that's another story.)

Now the question is, which two?  I've always wanted Kirsten.  But Samantha was so much more popular when I was little.  However, they are putting her in the vault (similar to the Disney Vault, maybe?) soon, so she will be unavailable.  If it was just one doll, Kirsten it would be.  But two...they make dolls that look like their owners.  So I could get one with "red" hair and blue eyes.  And one with gray hair (Iris's hair looks gray for some reason) and blue eyes?  I don't know.

I suppose I have a while before I have to make this decision.  But I cannot be talked out of it. Don't even try.     

 

My tummy hurts

Maizie's latest excuse for getting out of bed?

"My tummy hurts...

because of all the sin that's in my heart."

Oh, geez.

Missing someone...

A Quick Review

I just posted this link on my "facebook" account, so I thought I'd catch those of you up on my life since UHS and ISU, in case you have missed a few things.  My senior year of high school was a tough one for me.  I was dealing with bulimia, my dad was living 12 hours away in Texas, I was losing friends as fast as I had made them, and pretty much everything was falling apart.  I became a Christian right after the Columbine shootings, and I cried EVERY day in choir after that.  I don't know why, but the music was touching my heart.    

I spent the summer in Texas, as there was no where else to spend it, and then it was off to ISU for me. My original major was political science, and my plans were to go to law school and eventually run for some sort of office.  I don't know which one, but whatever.  I studied that for 2 years, and then I "fell in love" with Jason.  Jason is loyal like a golden retriever, very smart, and fun.  J and I had been friends through our church and campus group, TSC, for all 2 years I was in college, but all of a sudden I realized that I didn't want to spend my life without him.  It took him a few more months to be on the same page, but I'm glad I waited.   Although I will say to any 21 year old, it is really young to be married.  

And then I realized that my "dream job" (what was I thinking?  It sounded so Ma Ingalls, I guess!), was to be a stay at home mom.  And while I could have stayed in my program and gone on to law school, I decided to get a major in liberal studies and a minor in Spanish and get married instead.  I was married the week before my senior year of college.  

I finished my degree and we immediately moved up to Minneapolis.  And this is where the whirlwind started.  

I haven't mentioned yet, but I briefly will, that for everything my dad was, he was also a depressed alcoholic.  And I loved, loved, loved him dearly.  They moved from Texas to Davenport (a job move directly influenced b/c of his alcohol usage) right as Jason and I moved to Minneapolis.

We were here a year, looking for jobs and working at some silly ones (Jason's major was graphic design), when we got a phone call that my dad had died by suicide.  

I want to cut the drama and emotion out of this, simply b/c I wanted this blog to be "light," for my family and such.  I will say that healing through this has been horrible, painful, heartbreaking...and also relieving.  My children would never know their granddad.  I think about that a lot still. Suicide sucks.  

Enough said. 

A year later (9/2005), we had our 1st baby girl, Maizie.  And a bunch of job madness.  And then our 2nd little girl, Iris, in November 2007.  Before Maizie, I was employed as a financial aid advisor at a technical college.  I really loved my job.  But I quit to be a stay at home mom, which has been incredibly hard.  But, the girls and I have found our cadence.  It is incredibly stressful, and I could never tell you what it is exactly that I do all day, but only that my days are very busy.  Maizie is spunky, willful, and very smart.  Iris (Iree) is solemn, contemplative, and a good eater.  I love them both.  

Through all of this, I have been able to still work with flowers.  In college, I was employed at my FAVORITE job of all time-the Lincoln Center HyVee Floral Department.  And now I have a small business and do wedding flowers (when I can) out of my home.  It's small time, but it's easy, makes good money (when I do it), and I like it.

And as for me?  How have I been since h.s. and college?  I've quieted down quite a bit.  I don't always look to be the noticed one in the room.  I still need some sort of leadership position-whether it's at a baby shower packing the gifts into the bags as their being opened, or at church, leading the Christmas program-but I get stressed if I have nothing to do.  I'm politically confused, though I lean right, and VERY right on one issue.  I go back and forth on my decision to stay at home with my girls.  IT's REALLY hard.  I know I'm killing my chance at a great career.  Working so much for no money and no formal feedback is draining.  I don't care too much about clutter.  I'm obsessed with Yankee Candles.   I will double space after periods for the rest of my life, no matter what MLA says.  I think I'm an introvert.  I'm very good with people, I like people, but they simply drain me.  I don't believe anymore that hard things won't happen to me.  I just have to spike my feet into the ground and fight for what I believe is absolutely "uncompromisable."  I put myself last on the families list (sorry, Oprah, there's a time and a place for that).  I like my husband.  He's not always an "amazing husband," and in many ways he does not amaze me (and he would say that I do not amaze him), but I really like him.  And of course I love him.  He's for life.    

Now for the God pitch.  Just a little one.  He's carried me through all of this in ways I didn't understand.  Things hurt so badly when I don't look at them through HIS eyes, so I always try to do that.  He is my best father, an old friend, and an amazing epidural all at the same time.

Happy reading.

Maizie's 3rd Birthday

Princess Birthday Party

Princess Castle Cake!  

Princess Maizie's dream come true, I think.

Princess Parade!

All the little princesses

Castle Cake

This is what is supposed to happen tomorrow.

Just to remember

Maizie turned three the other day.  

We went to a restaurant of her choosing, Q'Cumbers (which is a buffet kind of a place with a huge salad bar).  This place is across the parking lot from "chuck o cheese-es," so I was kind of surprised.  I think she thinks that she can't go there without Grammy and Grumpy.  Maybe she thinks they live there?

Anyway, after we were totally stuffed from very healthy salad bar and very unhealthy ice cream sundaes, we headed down to Centennial Lake.  We took her presents with us (we got her a Little Einstein toothbrush and a Sesame Street puzzle) and let her pick a spot to sit and open them.

Maybe she remembered from another time, but she said "I want that place with the fountain and the water and the seats and the steps."  I found it right away.  She sort of reminded me of me with that request. 

  

We then opened presents, Grandpa and Nana got her some other stuff and mailed it, and then went to Target where she was allowed to spend a $15 gift card that her long lost great uncle sent.  She picked nothing and everything all at the same time, so we finally guided her towards something for her Little People.  

As I'm typing I realize that there is no point to this, but I'm not going back nor am I going to make up a point, so feel free to stop reading.  I'm going to stop typing.  

Maybe the point is that it was just a special moment that I don't want to forget.  

Yeah, that's the ticket.

Something really cute, though, is that Maizie told me that she was going to be a pink a purple kitty for Halloween.  She also let me know that Iris would be an airplane.  

What $1.77 can buy

A 20 oz. Diet Coke and a foot long "line" of strawberry (ahem...pink) Laffy Taffy.

And we're off.  With Iree in the umbrella stroller, Maizie in her pink tennies, and me-trying to figure out how in the world to multi-task pushing the stroller, corralling Maizie, and balancing the purple bouncy ball that we've brought with us.  

Obstacle #1:  Managing children in a small gas station, with everything displayed at toddler eye-level.  For some reason, there is an old pleather covered chair taking up half of the 4 x 5 store, so Maizie has a place to stay.  This is where the $1.77 comes in.  I pay a grease covered mechanic with coins from a ziplock baggie.  

Obstacle #2:  The construction on the corner.  This has torn up the crosswalk.  Crossing Penn Ave. at any time of day is bad, including lunchtime.  I have no idea where all these people are going, but they are there nonetheless.  So we have to cross in the middle of the street, which is a bit freaky. 

Anyway, we keep walking.  We're going to "a field."  I have no plan, I just know that if I don't get away from baby-food covered walls we might not make it through the day.   The field is about 2 blocks away, which means it's a six hour walk, give or take .   

So we arrive at our destination, this little playgroundless park that is on the creek.  I pull out the purple ball and Maizie starts kicking.  We find a bench and eat our "snack."  Iris has some, too (of course), and we're sticky and off again.  Next stop, a footbridge that goes across the creek.  We toss in some leaves on one side and look down the other to watch float away.  And we're off as fast as that started.  I think I could do that all day, but whatever.  Further down the "park" are 4 tennis courts.  I can barely see Penn Ave. now, which scares me, because not only do we have to walk all the way back through the park but back home as well.  But what else are we going to do? 

So Maizie gets her purple ball and bounces it and kicks it all over the tennis courts.  I get Iree out of her stroller and she butt scoots around the tennis court, eating rocks and bugs and other natural objects (the original organic, right?).  Maizie is singing the same song over and over, a line of it is "A ball is fun for all!"  And I'm soaking up the last of the summer, the autumn leaves, and pretending I'm Ma Ingalls with a Diet Coke.  

Finally, we head back again, and of course we have to do everything that we did on the way out. So it's back over the footbridge, toss some leaves in, back through the park, listen for birds, count the squirrels, kick the ball, up the hill, and Maizie gets about two feet onto the sidewalk on Penn when she sits down like Lucy my late basset hound used to do.  So I pick her up on my right hip, push the stroller with my left hand, weave through the construction, and finally back home.

Two hours later.  (If you're a stay at home mom you'll understand how LONG two hours can seem some days, so it's a big deal.)

My point?  I liked being a mom today.  Because I decided to get out of my stuffy situation, out of myself, and actually go ENJOY my children, the time flew.  It was one of those rare days. And no, the dishes are not done.  The baby food is STILL on the wall (but I'll probably take care of that soon since Iris hasn't really been eating baby food for a few months...), and the laundry baskets aren't getting any emptier.  

My other point?  It was in that calmness and simplicity that we found joy.   No flashing toys or DVDs.  No expensive outing to the children's museum.  Not that those things don't have their place at times.  But it was each other that brought the peace and joy that I often long for.  

That and a nice cold Diet Coke.  

The Office

C'mon...I'm so bored!!!

I miss you Andy Bernard!!!

My Bad

Have you ever had a problem that you TOTALLY know is your fault?  

For example, not teaching your "infant" to sleep through the night?  And now she's 10 months old and you're exhausted.  

Oh boy...

But at the time it seemed like the right thing to do.  Don't let her cry b/c then Maizie will wake up, and a cranky toddler is so much worse than a tired momma.  Right? 

BUT WE WOULD BE DONE BY NOW!!!

Now, I have a little girl who is too big to sleep in our tiny room, who can't share a room with her sister, and who is sleeping in a pack-and-play in the basement.  And who is a REALLY loud and persistent crier. 

Ugh.

I must say, however, that she only wakes up once.  It's still annoying, though.

But she sure is cute.  

One small step for mankind, but one giant step for Maizie

FINALLY!  

After 9 months of being "potty" (pee only) trained-she can even get through the entire night, my big girl has pooped in a toilet.  Bittersweetly, I realize that it's because dad got involved.  All my cajoling, bribing, disciplining, whatever accomplished nothing.  But the day that daddy stepped in and told her that if she pooped in her diaper (at nap time) or in her undies, she would not be allowed to wear a pretty dress and would have to wear pants, she obliges.  These threatened pants are not just any pants, mind you.  A pair of red shorts and a black t-shirt.  You may be thinking, what's the big deal, but this is the girl who wakes up in the morning and says within the first few minutes "I love pink and purple."  "I just have to dance." "I need ballet slippers."  And who now introduces herself as "Pink Maizie Brown."  So, for the time being, pooping in the pot became more important than teaching Maizie that she can't have whatever she wants (currently in the form of clothing). So she held it, held it, held it as long as she could, and FINALLY, on the way home from Sam's Club we hear her crying b/c she couldn't hold it any longer.  So we stop at Wendy's and her and I dash in, sit her down, and out it comes.  And for all the times I thought she was just being a brat about not going, I realized how wrong I was, because she was SO excited.  And with her arms pumping up and down in cheerleader fashion she's exclaiming between giggles....

"It just slide right out!!!   I'm so big-cited!!!  

I'm SOOOO proud!!  

Let's tell Baby Iris!  I want my cash register!!  

I did it!!!  

I'm so big-cited!!!  Baby Iris is so big-cited!!  

Let's call [Blue's Clues'] Steve!" 

(aka Jason)

Now I know it's not over, but at least it's coming along.  

I'm just praying that we don't have to drive to Wendy's every time she has to go.

Just another week.

Oh, the things that I never dreamed of...Last night, Maiz was in the bathtub grunting and, um, farting (I'm sorry if you say "fluff" in your house, but it's my blog, so please deal).  We were like, "Do you need to poop?  Why don't you sit on the potty?"  

NOTE:  Maizie is entirely "potty" trained.  Yes, potty only.  She has yet to go numero dos in the potty.  No matter what type of bribing, cajoling, lawyering, or bargaining I do, she refuses.  She'll be ten before she does it, I think.

Anyway, she decided to "try," which was more than she's done before.  We, of course, didn't think she'd do it until she calls "I did it!!!"

Um, hmmm...

"I pooped and it's in the potty!" "I get my cash register!"  (The stakes for pooping are high).  

I will say is that it was very large AND in her potty.

Picked up and placed there by her.

Gotta love it.  

IN other news, here's what happened at McDonald's today.  We (me, my baby bag-it's like another toddler, Iris, and Maizie) are going in the door, and while I'm trying to "herd cats" inside, I open the door right into Maizie's forehead.  She is knocked on the floor and is "silent screaming," so I figure I have 10-12 seconds before I'm noticed (when she finally takes a breath and REALLY screams).  Of course, people are waiting to get out, and those McDonald's foyers are so huge, not to mention that they could cook their fries in there it's so hot, and we're all on the floor.  I somehow manage to get everyone (baby bag 

included) inside and to the counter. 

"Hi, she just hit her head and I need some ice."

They hand me a cup.

"Um, more like an ice pack."

But, the minute she hears ice pack (by this time my 12 seconds have passed and she's screaming like a banshee), she squirms off the counter and onto the floor and starts running around the McDonald's, flinging herself into retirees booths.  It was like a strange game show. 

"Owie....OWWWWW...I don't wanna ice pack!  AHHHHH!!!  OWWW!!!"

And EVERYONE is staring at us.  And NO ONE is helping.  And if I were to blink I would cry.

Finally, a frail old lady offers to hold fat, grumpy Iris 

while I calm Crazy down.  And I think, this can't possibly end well.  And over the hunched shoulder of the lady (VERY sweet, though), I see a ma

n bring a high chair.  

And then a McDonald's employee (female, and I am assuming mother), brings out an ice cream cone.  And the nice old lady stayed with them while I ordered. 

So it ended okay.

Here's the damages.  Check out her forehead.  

Maizie...Brown?

I was explaining to Maizie that she has a long name...that she has a first name, a middle name, and a last name, too.  

"Well...whaaat is it?"  With those big blue-gray eyes.

"It's Maizie Daniele Brown.  Maizie Brown." 

Pause

Staring at me.

Brow furrowing.

"No...mom...it isn't.  I'm not Maizie Brown." 

(I could have predicted what was coming next.)

"I'm just Maizie PINK."

Core Foods

So I've succumbed to peer pressure and have changed my eating habits. It's funny that peer pressure would cause me to eat vegetables, but people, it's intense. 

Anyway, I'm following the Weight Watchers Core program, and if you know what that is, you can gasp in disbelief.  If you don't know what it is, I'll sum it up for you. Spinach, oatmeal, hard-boiled eggs, and popcorn.  Of course, there's more to it than that.  But you get the picture.  All "whole" foods, no breads, processed foods or, um, chocolate.  I can have whole wheat noodles and as much aspartame as I want.  And I'm struggling terribly with envy.

See, my husband is the person that the artist who first drew stick figures was thinking about.  The man can eat whatever, and I mean, whatever he wants.  He is so supportive, though, and follows the plan with me, mostly.  When it gets inconvenient, he gives in to things like Butter Burgers and gummy bears.  Not what I would be eating if eating caused no consequences, but whatever.  

But I finally think he gets it.  He said to me, "I have never had to think about anything that I put into my mouth before, and it totally sucks."   I have never thought about not thinking about it. Everything I eat is thought about.  Whether it's good thoughts or guilt thoughts.  Everything. It's been that way as long as I can remember.  And I am so sick of it.  I'm so tired of food being a big deal.  I would love to just be done with it.  I can't help but wonder why I struggle so bad with this!  

To paraphrase Dr. Phil (yes, I really like him, so bear with me for a moment), "there has got to be some payoff for the behavior to continue."  As destructive as my fat behavior is, I am getting some payoff to continuing to do it after all these years. I could get deeply into this, but know that the bottom line is simple.  It feels good.  

And isn't that always a payoff? It feels good to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with no regard to how it's hurting others or how it is self-destructive.  And especially no regard to God's parameters and HIS view on the issues, I mean, he is invisible and he will forgive me...right?  

So, this is why I am eating so much oatmeal and popcorn.  Because it matters so much less than me obeying God.  How in the world can I expect my daughters to exhibit self control when their mom totally does whatever she wants?  It is probably as hard for Maizie to sit on her blanket for thirty minutes as it is for me to say "no thanks" to food that isn't really fueling me.  She's two!  She has a physical need to be running around like crazy, and yet I'm teaching her that she must be still once in a while. And while I'm manning the timer, I'm chomping on cookies and guzzling Diet Coke like a Pharisee.  But please note, the Diet Coke will be the last thing to go, okay?

Much Better

Last night, after feeling so terrible, I decided to make a change.  This is really all it takes most of the time, is for me to do something about my situation and chose to be better.  So I got Maizie all dressed in her pink butterfly galoshes, green jammie pants, & purple raincoat, and gave her my purple Disney World parasol.  Then I got Iris all bundled up and put her in the carrier, and outside in the rain we went.  I took them to the back of the parking lot for the shops (which were mostly closed) next door and she went crazy puddle hopping.  It was cold and wet, but finally, we were having fun and not battling about everything.  I wish I'd have had my camera, because she was so cute out there soaking wet with my "brella," which was way too big for her.  I'll just have to remember it like they did in the old days, I guess.  Write it down.

I didn't think I was going to get her inside, but she finally fell down and got soaked, and I said "Maizers, we better go in and get all dried off."  And she was like "Yeah, it's okay, we better get all dried off and have a snack."  So in we went, to eat popcorn and drink hot, well, warm chocolate.  And I finally got my heart aligned in the truth.  

Just draggin

You know that you're having a bad night when you binge on green sprinkles and baby food pears, b/c they are the only thing sweet in your house and you're too tired to load up the kids and trek out in the rain to get some real binge food, like hostess cupcakes or .   And even if you were energized enough to do that, you can't imagine spending three dollars b/c frankly, you just can't be throwing that kind of money around.  So, there's plenty to be thankful in that. 

I'm trying to reflect on the joys of motherhood, but today is one of those days that I can't seem to get my heart caught up into the truth of what God really has blessed me with.  I keep looking at the to-dos, and the what-ifs, and the spit-ups.  (I've been walking around a pile of baby spit-up that is on the floor for a couple of hours now b/c I just don't want to bend down to pick it up).  And the fact that I finally got around to spending ten dollars on a shirt for myself that actually fits my post baby body and day two it has a hole in it that I have to stitch b/c I lost the receipt and can't return it and pretend like I had nothing to do with it when me and the clerk would both know that I did.  I know that was a run on sentence, I'm too tired to push shift and try to find the proper punctuation under my grabby baby who is sitting on my lap grabbing everything on the desk.  

But she sure is cute, though.

And really, what am I complaining about?  I live in the United States and I have so much food that I have cupcake sprinkles in my pantry.  And my baby girls are allowed to live and grow up. And I have a computer, of all things, that cost as much as it costs to feed 20 kids for a whole year in Haiti.  And my husband is nice to me.  And he's addicted to nothing (except Dr. Pepper).      

Generosity

I am feeling thankful for a lady at our church, who has a set of girl twins and gives me one half of their clothes.  I have not had to buy one thing for Maizie in the last year b/c of her generosity.  I feel like I should buy them from her, some of the clothes have never been worn or worn very little.  It is all so very nice, and I am incredibly thankful that she is sharing.  On that note, I only take clothes from her and one other gal.  The first year of Maizie's life, I had people dumping clothes on me, like I'm a goodwill.  And while that is great, I don't want all the really worn out, um, "retro" clothes.  But these two women are really great.  The other woman is a great friend, and not only has she given me clothes for Maizie, but she's also given me maternity clothes, a cradle, and various other things.  I've been given so much for my kids, and then I feel like such a hypocrite, b/c it is hard for me to be that generous.  There is a family that is struggling to make ends meet who attends our church.  I know I need to give them something, but I can be so darn selfish!   And not like, "there is no way that they deserve anything," but more like "I need to spend all my money on our family."  There is a toy I REALLY want to buy Maizie, it's $30, (it's a PatPatRocket from Little Einsteins), and this family could really use that money for necessities.  And Maizie hasn't even asked for the toy!  

We'll see where this goes.  

Brownies-YUM!

I happen to like Brownies.  Not the little girl kind, but the chocolaty, gooey, warm, fudgey, three-WW-points-per-serving, YUMMY kind.  Other than brownies, the last name "Brown" has nothing cute associated with it.  It's pretty standard.  Well, I guess there's "Brown vs. board of education," which was an important court case, but did not convey exactly what I wanted the name of my Blog to convey.  I think that you could understand this.  And I almost named it "sockmonkeyland," just because I like sock monkeys, I think that they're funny, but before I hit "return" I realized I own not a one sock monkey.  Not even a miniature sock monkey.  So I was stuck trying to spin off of my last name.  "Brown."  Pretty ho-hum.  And Brownies, unless made well, can also be ho-hum. 

So, not sure what the point of this Blog is, just wanted to make sure that we were all on the same page.  I'm not eating little Girl Scouts, okay?