98'th percentile for head size...all the better to perch hairbows on my dear!

Oh, how I love my little bean head....She'll grow into that gorgeous noggin of hers....I mean, I grew into mine...

Monkey see Monkey does...

A few weeks ago I enrolled my little monkey in a gymnastics class...my baby is in a class. A class. With a teacher and rules...my...my baby!

We've also been looking into some private pre-schools for her. Pre-school! I can't abide. it's too much.

Mind...cannot...comprehend.

I had better change the subject before I need to call my momma.

My monkey...she loves her class. She's still trying to get the hang of the whole listening-to-a -teacher-and-following-directions thing...but she gets a little better with every class. Her favorite part is swinging from the rings. She looks just like the Orangutans at the Honolulu Zoo.

My....baby....

It's cruel is what this is. Straight up cruel. I need some greasy food now.

Holy vintage lace batman!

I was lurking around one of my favorite thrifting haunts when I came across a wire rack of misc. textiles...they had various Ziploc bags crammed with odds and ends labeled "Buy one get one FREE" So, naturally I was all over that like white on rice...I figured I would spend 5 bucks and I was bound to come across something useful...holy moly spicy guacamole...I hit the mother-load!
I went home and eagerly un-stuffed my baggies discovering, to my delight, that I had literally hit vintage pay-dirt.

I admit...they have been spread out on the kitchen table for about a week now...every once in a while Isabella or I will wander over and sift through their wondrous fluffiness...dream a bit...then it's off again.

I think perhaps, that the best part of a good find, is the dreaming process, the planning of what you shall eventually use it for.

A woman's prerogative.

I'm exercising my special right! I've been feeling the bug the past couple of weeks...the blogging bug, that is.

That's right...I changed ma mind.

And there aint nothin' nobody can do 'bout it.

Closing up shop

I've come to the decision and I'm retiring my little blog...perhaps I'm just growing weary of it or perhaps I have simply just lost my mojo...I'm not sure which but I will most certainly continue to frequent and stalk all of my faves.

Who knows? Maybe I will start a new one someday.

I'm currently working on saving all of my posts and making them into a book, a book that I hope to someday give to Isabella when she leaves the nest....preferably not for at least another 48 years.
I appreciate, love and adore all of the heartfelt comments of encouragement I have received over the years, and since I'm not sure if I can save them, I am working on writing them all down in a special notebook so that someday I will come across it and they can make me smile again :)

much love,

Mary-Catherine

How to score a Christmas tree in Hawaii

First things first, ya gotta find yourself the nearest building with one of these signs hanging on it.

Then, you take your handsome husband and delectable daughter and you proceed to browse the firs....


You browse...and you browse...


And you browse some more...and then you discuss your browsing...


When you finally find just the right one...you send hubby to inspect the boughs for ultimate ornamenting perfection. Then it's off to the trunk trimmer for ole Firby!


Oh, but be sure to stop up your ears when they trim the trunk...those saws are loud!



And finally, you watch while handsome hubby struggles to tie tree to top of car...and voila! Ya got yourself a Christmas tree. In Hawaii.

Typical.

Today Isabella waited until I was deeply enthralled in TJMAXX to do a big stinky #2 for the afternoon....typical.



Grandaddy brought home a box of "boom-booms" (ice cream) and Isabella wanted that instead of dinner...typical.


Jasper kept a faithful vigil for any sort of droppings or drips...typical.



(Jasper is very thorough when it comes to droppings)



Tonight, Isabella became excessively loud and rambunctious right when I was sitting down to watch Fox News...typical.


Just now, while typing this...my sweet, sticky little dirty girl climbed up into my lap and gave me kisses then requested to be tickled...typical.


I loved every minute of it...typical.