June 24, 2011

share your hair

Have you ever thanked your parents for your hair? Say what, you haven't? How strange. Me either. I have thanked them for many things: changing my diapers, feeding me (sometimes...), celebrating my birthdays, my education, yadda yadda yadda you know how the list goes on. The thing is, I don't think I will ever thank them for my hair. Nope. Not since Ann Elizabeth graced the planet with her gentleyetvoluptuous wavy headed self.

Emily, you're crazy. Why does it even matter? 

Maybe I am crazy. If I am, it is only because living with Ann has caused me to become crazy. Every morning we go through the same routine. I wake up, yawning and rubbing my eyes like most human beings, and as I pass the mirror I see the usuals: 

1) Mr. Cowlick is mad at me for laying on him so to get back at me he stands straight up.
 2) The Pillow Crease. You know when you put your hair in a ponytail and when you take the rubber band out you have a crease in your hair? (oh my gosh, I need hairapy). Well, when I lay against the pillow and some of my hair happens to fold under or fold over or lie any way but straight down, I get a crease in it. This is my hair trying to be wavy/curly. 
3) Tangles. Self explanatory. They come, they takeover, and they hurt. 

I start to walk away pretending that I am totally okay with waking up like that. I am totally okay with never being able to like, sleep in and have to get up in a hurry to get somewhere on time without showering or doing anything and still look just great. Just as I am starting to feel like I'm on top of the hairworld, in walks Ann-y poo. Dun dun dun. Now, at first glance Ann looks like a normal human being as well. Do not be fooled! It is very important to stay focused. After yawning and rubbing her eyes and looking in the mirror at what appears to be a head full of messy hair, you will see Ann's hand slowly reach up and start to pull out the rubber band that has been restraining the curls and waves and goodness from eating her face all night. 


I take the time to blink (mistake), and when I look again Ann's hair is perfect. Literally. Waves framing that ever so presh sleepy headed face. Not one hair outta place. (until I run up and punch her in the face...)

Sometimes I pretend I DO have Ann's hair, so what?

 I wanted a sister SO badly. I wanted to share shoes. Ann wears a 7, I wear a 9. I wanted to share clothes. Ann is size negative negative zero, I am not. I wanted to share hair tips. Ann does nothing and washes her hair annually. I do everything and still have hair straighter than paper and to prevent looking as greasy as a Big Mac, I wash my hair everyday. 

Ann, if you're reading this, I do love you. Mostly for your hair. Oh, p.s.-that's also the reason I don't love you so much. 

side note: This post was not written so that I could complain (really...). I wrote it just to let you all know that the Bruno Mars line, "your hair, your hair falls perfectly without you trying." was in fact written after Mr. Mars saw Ann one morning. 

June 19, 2011

You say Father, I say Pater

Did you know today was Father's Day? For those of you living in a bubble and/or cave, probably not. The good thing for y'all is that I'm writing about it! On my blog! It's being updated! Happy Father's Day, yay!

How could I not post about my lovely daddy-o on Father's Day? (Especially since I had a whole post dedicated to my mommy-o on Mother's Day...) (For the record Russ, I only posted Mom's post because I had planned all along to write you a beautiful [handsome] Father's Day blog post and thought MC might feel left out if I didn't do one for her on Mother's Day.) (DAD DON'T READ THIS NEXT LINE---Mom, if you're reading this don't worry, I'm only kidding with that last comment.)

I have this really really adorable picture sitting on my dresser. Russ Moore and I are in it so that partially explains the adorableness factor. The rest of it comes from the way Russ Moore is looking at his little newborn baby girl. I would post that picture here for y'all to enjoy and "ooh" and "ahh" over, however I have been informed from some of my immediate family members that I am not Russ Moore's baby girl because Ann is his baby girl. This confuses me since I was the firstborn girl and obviously his favorite baby, but whatever. Let's take a look at another picture of Russell holding his (not) baby girl...
Dad hasn't changed a bit, by the way.  Same haircut? CHECK. Same smile everytime he sees his (not) baby girl? CHECK.

Dad, or Pater as we call him (look it up all you non-Latin speakers), puts up with a lot living with three girls. And he loves it, of course. Examples of daily conversations:

"Are you really going to wear that?"
"Brown and brown and brown don't match."
"Brown and brown and navy and black don't match."
"How did you ever survive without an iPhone?"
"Pater, did you hear that last question or were you too busy looking at your iPhone?"
"Dad...Dad...Dad..."  [grabs iPhone]
"Are you sure you killed it and aren't just lying to shut us up?"

Oh, I forgot the most important one----- "Pater, we LOVE you!!" We add that one in after all the other ones, of course. So nice.

Pater, I love you. Or, ILY. (that's cool FB/texting lingo that my dad likes to use.) IASHTYAMD. (I am so happy that you are my dad). There is no one else that I would have wanted to drive me around at 1 am trying to get me to fall asleep. There is no one else that would have eaten Sloppy Joes with me. There is no one else that I would have wanted to teach me how to tie my shoes, or ride my bike, or parallel park. There is no one else that would sit around and put up with the constant love and attention (and occassional fashion help) of three girls. 

Remember, we're laughing with you, not at you. :)

June 6, 2011

use me, baby

Sometimes I forget about my blog. I don't forget about blogpost.com or about my blog friends that I stalk ever so obsessively. No, they don't get the boot. Just my blog does. It just sits there all lonesome wanting to be used and abused. I started the blog for many reasons. One being that my fan base had become quite large and I needed a place to consolidate and please the masses. Number one was obvious to you all, I'm sure. Number two being that I'm not in school right now and I really do love writing and I miss writing and since I am not writing a paper every other day for my liberal arts degree my brain cells are quickly dying of writing starvation and...you get the picture. (I'm really good at run-on sentences.)

Well dude, I'm using you and abusing ya now.  

I had a kid free week last week so it seemed the only logical thing to do was to go to Disney. Being the logical person that I am I, of course, made the hard decision and went to Disney. 4 days of driving, little to no sleeping, walking, eating popcorn/corndog nuggets/pizza/pasta, finding hidden mickey's, being in parades, watching fireworks, watching fat men dance, riding rides/experiencing rides/riding experiences/doing experiences, seeing new additions, getting fab parking spots, not waiting in long lines, seeing old friends, and being there with the best people ( hey heyyyy MC and the Freddiefriend) (and Joseph) (and Caroline).
Hey Hey to you too, Walt.

Every time I get an "off" week, I have to talk myself into getting excited about starting a long week of sitting on babies. This is dumb. I will forever and always think children are the best and should probably write that in permanent marker on my forehead so in times of distress I can be reminded that I love them. You hear that kids? You've got some MLE lovin' coming your way. I spent the day swimming, eating froyo, going to art camp, playing hot potato, singing Disney songs, and listening to a 10 year old's favorite rap songs. Umm, what? Is this really my job right now? My tan line (and my waist line) are so happy right now. Bring on the full time mommy week. I will mommy the pants off of you. (Does that saying work? Not really... Let's pretend it does and move on.)

To my fans/stalkers/family/everyone else, enjoy reading. More than once, if you so desire. I want to see this post get some real good use out of it, understood?


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