Russ in a dress

Two years or so ago, in a youth ministry committee meeting brainstorming ideas for fundraisers, Russ said that he thought we should have a Womanless Beauty Pageant.  His dad had been in one at his home church (I’ve seen pictures, he looked EXACTLY like his sister, crazy).  I was hesitant, but slowly the idea caught on among the youth, and before I knew it we were planning our first Womanless Beauty Pageant.   The youth chose a date and the pageant format.  They decided who the judges would be.  They made a long list of men that they wanted to ask to be in the pageant.

I began to panic two weeks ago when VERY few men were willing/able to be a part of this spectacle.  Even Russ who HAD THE IDEA said that he wasn’t going to be in it.  But slowly but surely, nine brave and secure contestants stepped up to the plate, including Russ (I had to remind him 104 times that it was his idea and we wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for his idea in the first place).  And oh my goodness gracious – it was the most fun.  I haven’t heard a group of Presbyterians get that rowdy in a long time (since seminary perhaps).

The youth are forever indebted to these men who went to goodwill to try on dresses, practiced walking in high heels, painted their own finger nails, recruited our Mary Kay member to do their make-up, created lovely female characters, and went ALL OUT to make sure the audience had a good time and that we raised money for the youth.  I think it is especially humorous that when asked to pick their pageant name, THREE of the contestants chose Daisy – apparently that is the southern idea of a proper pageant name.

I was able to see the contestants get ready, so I knew what was coming, but seeing/hearing the audience reactions as each beauty stepped out of the doorway and headed to the stage was absolutely priceless, especially because our contestants were so into their characters with struts and hair flips and high pitched voices.   They began by introducing themselves and telling a bit about who they were.  Next the question round elicited responses to questions such as: “What is your idea of a perfect date?”  “What are your favorite traits in a man?” and “If you could get away with a crime what would it be?” (This last question got my favorite answer…all of the contestants began to harass/hit on the host and the answer to the question was “stealing your heart, baby” – quick witted those ladies).

Then came the talent portion – there was cornhole, balloon animal making, poetry reading, cheering, jumping on a pogo stick, “singing”, magic, “dip art”, and juggling a soccer ball while wearing heels.  All awesome.  The judges had a very difficult job with so much beauty and talent up on that stage.  But alas, they did choose their top three.

And you wouldn’t believe who won Second Runner-Up:  Nixie Knockers, the soccer juggling, bearded pregnant contestant.  Also known to you as Russ:

I am sad that I really didn’t get a good picture of the full get up.  I’m afraid that Piglet may need therapy after this whole experience.  She was very concerned that he used her little soccer balls for boobs and a ball she wanted to play with for the belly.  At one point she ran on stage, lifted the dress, and birthed the baby ball.  This is the point when I cried I was laughing so hard.

Good Times

Miss chief

AKA miss demeanor if you’re Missy Elliott.  Piglet has become very creative and good at entertaining herself.  This is awesome when we are trying to get things done, like showering.  But sometimes she reminds us that she shouldn’t be left to her own devices for too long.  The other day, Russ went outside to water the plants.  While he was there, she got her little plastic tea pot, pushed a chair up to the sink, filled her tea pot with water, and headed to the front door to help daddy.  The only problem came when she had trouble opening the door and spilt all of the water on the floor.

On Saturday, I had to go to work for a bit to get ready for Sunday and Russ was at home smoking some butt and watching Piglet.   During that hour, she took some creative license with her pooping sticker chart (I circle the stickers to help us count together when we get to the goal number of stickers just to make sure she gets her reward – she was just trying to help).  Too bad her skills don’t include staying within the lines…or on the page.  I guess we’ll be repainting that wall.

In that same hour, she decided that she wanted to play mommy and took her baby into what will be Baby B’s room and began trying to find something for the baby to wear, then trying to put the baby down for a nap with just the right blanket and even reading the baby some books.   When I came in, Russ asked, how long did it take you to organize the baby stuff?  Then I find this:

PS – Has anyone else noticed that all of these things happened while Russ was “in charge”?

PPS – Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post where I still give him the gold star for winning the parenting challenge this week because I failed.

going mad and old

The other night, Russ was studying in the office and I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed.  I heard a strange grumbling noise and thought it was my stomach…the Cracker Barrel lunch and the few bites of Russ’ onion rings and Piglet’s ice cream post dinner dessert made that seem like the most logical explanation.

Then I heard it again.  Then again.  Definitely not my stomach.  It actually sounded like it was coming from the toilet.  So I stood over the toilet trying to hear it again.  There it was.  and again.  it sounded like we were above a sewer and someone was tapping on a pipe down below and the vibrations were making their way through the water.

Then the sound changed.  This time it sounded like someone was actually talking in the imaginary sewer below.  so strange.  so there I stood staring at my toilet wondering what in the world was going on and thinking I was going a little crazy.

I was about to walk into the office to get Russ to come and examine the sound with me and at least prove that I wasn’t hearing things when I realized the sound was not coming from the toilet but from the other side of the wall – in the office where Russ was studying the various sounds of regular and irregular heartbeats with a simulator.

So I guess I’m only a little crazy, at least not hearing things that aren’t there yet.

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Speaking of hearing things, the youth proved that we are in fact old.  Last night they were playing the ring tone that is supposedly at such a high frequency that adults can’t hear it, making it the ideal ring tone for school hours.  Just a few short years ago, I could still hear that ring tone, but last night – NOTHING.  After I discovered that I could no longer hear it, Russ decided that surely he could hear it – still in denial he was – but sure enough, they tested him too and NOTHING. sad.  It’s hard getting old and not hearing things that are there.

morning mayhem

Monday – 6:55 am

Scene:  I am in the bathroom getting ready.  Russ is still sleeping.  Piglet is watching Curious George (or so we thought).

I hear serious crying through the bathroom door and open it to find Russ catapulting out of bed (still half asleep I’m sure) and running into the living room to see what’s wrong.  I close the door again figuring he’s got it covered.  Then I hear a loud thud and a groan on top of the serious two year-old crying.  Then I decide it’s time for me to take action.   I run to Piglet’s room where she has on mismatched pjs (neither the top or bottom were the ones she was wearing when I got in the shower) except that she is stuck in the shirt and can’t get her arms out and she is crying that her finger hurt (she apparently closed it in the drawer while stuck in the shirt).   I get her shirt fixed and kiss her finger and then find Russ who was still wandering around looking for Piglet (still half asleep and now limping).  I seriously just laughed out loud as I typed this story. I then worry that Piglet had changed clothes because she had thrown up AGAIN (Sunday was not a good day), so I start looking for the original pjs.  I can’t find them in the usual places, so I ask her where she put them, and she very matter of factly (with a side of “duh”) said “in the washing machine”.  Sure enough they were IN the washing machine.  Impressive.  But they were not dirty, I am not sure why she got the urge to change at that moment.

Wednesday – 5: 40 am

After a restless night of having to get up and potty and bad dreams, Piglet starts crying so I go into her room to get her up.  She asks for another pull-up, but I try to convince her that she can wear her Dora panties, so she doesn’t need another pull-up.  MELT DOWN.  I finally get her pull-up off and panties on.  But then, as I get her pants half way on, she screams, “NO MY DO DIT BY MYSELF” and starts thrashing about.  So she takes off her pants and then tries to start over by herself, only when she pulled them off they turned inside out.  So I let her struggle with it by herself until she looks at me with eyes full of tears and says, “Mommy, help please”.  So I fix her pants and she gets dressed.

5:50 am

We head into the kitchen to fix her morning cup of juice.  I pick out her pink cup and get it ready.  MELT DOWN.  “No, I want the blue one”  I refuse to give in and let her have a tantrum that lasted five minutes.  I put her juice where she can reach it and go back to the couch.  After five minutes, she comes and sits in my lap – still crying, but a little calmer and easier to understand

• Piglet:  I want the blue cup.  It matches my pajamas, the shirt and the pants
  
• Me:  Well, the pink cup matches your pink socks, don’t you want the pink cup?
  
• Piglet: Uh-huh

Then she gets down, gets her pink cup, snuggles back in my lap, and we watch the last two minutes of Sesame Street.

I must say that this week, I have not been sad when I drop her off at school.   I am STRESSED OUT and AT MY WITS END before I even get to work.

daddy’s girl

He’s her hero brave and strong, and she’s her daddy’s girl.

He tells her jokes and makes her laugh.

They play I Spy, Let’s Pretend, and Catch Me If You Can.

This comes from one of Piglet’s favorite books “Dance Me Daddy” by Cindy Morgan.   She also loves the song version by Point of Grace.  She asks for “Daddy Dancing, Daddy Dancing” and “Daddy Dancing CBDB”  (CBDB=CD).  But really, any book about daddies tops her list.  She loves her daddy.

I think the feeling’s mutual.

I’m sure that 5 years ago, if Russ had made a list of the things he would never do, this might be on it:

• having pretend tea (granted it is sweet tea, not hot tea)
• in a little pink chair
• at a pink and purple table
• with a princess on it.

But for the love of a sweet little girl, he would do anything.

Dance me daddy, dance me around.  Don’t let my feet ever touch down.  There’s nothing better than being your girl.  If I am your princess then you are the king of the world. ~Cindy Morgan