Real Mom Dress Up!

Look!  Now you can dress up the Real Mom! OMG!

Now, I want to see your creations. So get her dressed by dragging and dropping the different clothing onto the Real Mom. Once you've gotten her all dressed, hold down alt and prt scr at the same time.  Then open up a photo editing program (Paint, Photoshop, etc.), make a new file, and paste your Real Mom into that file.

THEN upload your creations to the Sugar and Spice, My Ass facebook page!



Enjoy!

Thanks to: Stacie for hosting the file, and Jodee for all the patient assistance.

This is why I have anger management issues

There is an aggravating, rage-inducing trend beginning in my house. Granted, this trend started as soon as she could talk, but it's steadily gotten worse. It's so bad now, that I have actually contemplated hitting her repeatedly with a blunt object. What is this trend?

The "I want that, no I don't want that" trend. This is how it goes: Layla says she wants something, say...cereal. Then when I make it for her, she suddenly, and very firmly does not want it anymore.

Layla: "I want to eat!"

Me: " Awesome. What do you want to eat?"

Layla: "I don't want to eat!"

Me: "Ok then."

Layla: "I'm huunnngggrrryyy!"

Me: "Alright! What would you like?"

Layla: "I want chocolate cereal!"

Me: *takes chocolate cereal out of cabinet*

Layla: "Noooooooooo, I don't waaaannntttt thhaaaattttt!"

Me: "You said you did! OMG! So, what DO you want?"

Layla: "I want chocolate ceeerreeaaallll"

Me: *bangs head against cabinet repeatedly* *pours cereal*

Layla: "Noooooooooooo!" *whines and screams like I'm setting her on fire. Which isn't a BAD idea*

Me: "You're going to eat it, or I'm going to take all your teddy bears and build a bonfire with them!"

Layla: *wwwhiinnnneeesssss some more*

Me: *violently pours milk into cereal, slams it down on table and throws Layla in chair* Eat! For the love of jlksjdf*&%#( JESUS, eat!"

Layla: *pushes cereal away* "I don't WANNA EAT!"

Me: "You'll eat that cereal, or I'll dump it over your head and throw the bowl at you repeatedly! EAATTTT! NOOWWWWW!!!!"

Layla: *grumbles, throws me murderous glares, eats the fucking cereal*

Me: *overdoses on nerve pills*

So. Yeah. I think she finds some sadistic pleasure in doing this to me. And everyone else in the house. There have been times when she's actually had a horrible, violent temper tantrum because I MADE HER WHAT SHE FUCKING WANTED. Why?! She is the only child I know (so far) that actually has a tantrum when she gets what she wants.

It sort of happens likes this:





This trend will, inevitably, lead to me drooling and throwing myself against a wall repeatedly. All while screaming "But she WANTED it! Why wouldn't she eat it? WHY??!?!?! *screams hysterically*

Kind of like the "post trip madness" drawing, but with more drool and screaming.

At any rate, the teddy bear bonfire threat was an empty one, because she already started the teddy bear torture without me:



Well, on to plan B, I guess.

My child is a kleptomaniac

In our house, if anything goes missing, you can be pretty sure Layla took it. Now, there are times when she's completely innocent, and the alleged item has just fell in between the couch cushions, or been carried off by a pack of hungry antelope. But for the most part, it's all Layla's fault.

Her most favorite things to do in all the world is to play with random household shit. She has TONS of toys. She has a lifesize Rapunzel doll. She has big legos, she has barbies, hot wheels, elmo, coloring books, and the list goes on. But instead of playing with her plethora of wonderous toys, she instead plays with old TV remotes, or bread ties, or empty pill bottles. It astounds me, but I never expected her to be normal.

For example, here is what she packed into her bag:





I can only assume that these items hold SOME importance for her. I mean, who wouldn't want to carry around a bunch of shredded cigarettes, and a straw? (Yes, I smoke. Bite me.)

So, when a crucial item goes missing, say...a Netflix DVD, or a tube of medicine, or a very important paper, or half the fucking house, my first thought is "Check Layla's room."

This is how the scenario plays out:





Awwww. Look at that innocent face. She couldn't POSSIBLY have stolen my shit! Yeah right. She'll steal your shit, spit on you, slap you, and tell you to fuck off. That's my girl!

After this Academy Award winning performance, I commence a search of her room.



After standing on my head, and baring my ass, I usually find the stolen item in the most unlikely place ever. Like in an oven mitt, filled with bread ties, being kept fresh in her toy refrigerator. Or in her underwear drawer along with a ball of string and a clothes pin.

We even had a block of CHEESE go missing once. I assumed that my fiance ate it. He assumed I ate it. But when it became clear that neither of us had consumed a cheese product, our gaze turned to Layla. Instead of denying that she took the alleged cheese, like usual, she led us into her room, pulled open the freezer part of her fake refrigerator, and presented us with the missing block of cheese. Ah. Well, at least she was keeping it fresh. Hell, it may even still be in there, reproducing little cheese minions that will eventually try to eat my daughter in her sleep. Good luck, cheese minions. She's a tricky one.

Filler

I'll be making a post this evening. You can be assured that it will be fucking hilarious. Until then, here's a pic:





The doll deserved it.