She is a force to be reckoned with. And it seems every week she gets more daring, confident, and bold. She is strong and muscle-dense. And hse keeps really great footing wherever she is. Today, she was on the equipment at EvieG's school playing before dismissal. There was a 4 year old boy playing too. At one point she blocked him from climbing up the slide and reaching the top. She stood on the platform and shouted at his face, "I'm fee!" And then sent out this ridiculous, mischeivious cackle.

She is not three, she is two. She had him convinced.

The only problem with The Destroyer is that A) she has absolutely zero will power. She falls for temptation all the time. Probably several times a day, and B) she has an addictive personality. She is constantly in the cupboard searching for her next snack and cannot part ways with her soother. With her easy going personality combined with her daring nature to explore and try whatever you give her, I worry that this will be a recurring theme throughout her childhood.

This kid is going to tear up cities and get into mischief of all kinds. I can see it already and it hasn't even happened yet.

And she is going to convince the bouncer at the bar to let her in before she is of proper age. You wait.

All's I'm sayin's all.

What a fun couple of hours out of the house. We went for a cocktail before at a local pub, had a good visit, and then went to walk around the town where we learned about the town's history, its architecture, and the fun ghost stories that go with it all.

I have done ghost walks in the UK and in Kingston. Nenny with Twins and I did the ghost walk in York, and Edinburgh. Hubby and I did one in Oxford. Bus tours are great, but they can be a bit boring with the old, "Look to your left, look to your right." This way you interact with someone who is passionate about the town, its history, and inhabitants, alive and dead. They are storytellers with knowledge in a variety of areas. It is personal, you can ask questions, and be on the lookout for strange occurrences along the way.

As Halloween gets closer, find out if your town offers a haunted ghost walk. If it does, I say grab a few pals and head out for an hour or so of spooky stories. If not, well, that's too bad, but remember to find one in a city or town you may visit in the future.

All's I'm sayin's all.

Here are a few examples of what is happening as EvieG moves through grade 1:

1. I want sparkly markers. My friend has them and says she got them at Wal*Mart for $5.00.

Okay. I told her if this is something she needs to have to enhance her artistic talents, then she will buy them herself. With her allowance money from her piggy bank. I would provide transportation free of charge.

Before we left, we had a discussion about whether or not $5.00 would be enough. She told me that her friend said that was the price. And so came the list of questions from me:

So, if so and so told you that jumping off a bridge was fun and that you could fly would you do it?

So, if so and so told you that you won't get cavities from too much sugar, would you binge until you got sick?

If so and so told you that The Smurfs were making a comeback, would you believe her?

EvieG ended up taking 3 dollars extra just in case. I should have let her take the $5.00 and let her learn the hard way. Because Wal*Mart never makes anything even. It's always something like $5.83. Which it was.

We got to the checkout and went self-serve. Faster and more efficient. EvieG scanned her item and put in the correct amount, all with some help. She ended up with 17 cents change to put back in her piggy bank, along with the extra money she had brought just in case.

2. "And I was like, so excited, and then she goes, 'Come and play over here, EvieG!'"

Thanks to Auntie Missy for this response- "Pardon me? You were like what? What are you like? What do you like? And where is she going? What is she doing?"

This is what I have been challenging EvieG with in the last couple of days. I can't stand this kind of language and I will stop her mid-sentence to correct her poor use of speech. I correct this and her pronunciation of 'th'. It is not the sound of a 'd' but 'th'.

When she found out that Uncle Paul was coming for Thanksgiving she announced in the car that she was going to pull his finger. This is something she does with her uncles. They prey on her naivete and convince her that she should pull their finger. She knows now that she is intoxicated by their stench when she does. So instead, she usually defers to her sisters, who still don't get it.

Give it time.

As we were driving, she did remind me that Uncle Paul was going to try and get her to pull his finger during his visit. She said, "I will just tell him, Not your middle finger! Because that's bad."

It is only a matter of time before she comes home from school asking about the meaning of a swear word. Or if she can add The Thong Song to her play list on her MVD player (MP3).

All's I'm sayin's all.

EvieG got sent home from school today. She has been complaining about a sore ear since Saturday night. And so came EvieG's first-ever sent-home-sick day from school. She is working on her sick day maneuvering in an attempt to make it an extension of her weekend.

I didn't think she had an ear infection. She hasn't had one since she was really wee. She doesn't have a cold. The only thing I could think of was swimmer's ear. She had a lesson last week.

We have been treating her with TLC. Some Advil and Auralgan; that ear medicine your mom used to warm up and then drip into your ear. You would lay in bed with her rubbing your back until you could only hear it gurgling as she stuffed your ear canal with cotton balls. Well, we are now treating our Wee Lady the same way.

I wrote a note to the teacher informing her of the current complaint. And sure enough, just as I suspected, I received a phone call not even an hour into the school day. Come pick up EvieG. I called the doctor's office to get her in for a quick once-over.

EvieG came home for the rest of the day. Bring on play time.

Lessons in coming home from school have been swiftly and effectively communicated.

1. When you are sent home from school, you must put on your pajamas.

2. You must find your favourite pillow and stuffed animal.

3. You must assume a horizontal position.

4. You will receive a glass of water, or maybe ginger ale, depending on the ailment.

5. You will rest. There will be no play.

Just as I spotted her heading up the stairs with a pair of scissors for her craft and the Tinker Toys to build with her sisters, I kindly asked her what she was doing. She told me she was going to play with her sisters.

I don't think so.

And so I explained to her that if she was sick enough to be sent home from school then she for sure was not healthy enough to play with her sisters. I threatened to send her back to school, at which time she pleaded that she was unwell and needed to stay home and rest.

Well then put the Tinker Toys away. And the Barbie car while you are at it.

I could see her little mind working a mile a second, trying to figure out how she would get away with managing to pull off a successful sick day that wouldn't result in a long 6 hour time span where she was bored to tears. Finding a quiet place in her room with the door close perhaps? Taking a nice, warm bubble bath? Watching movies of her choice?

Once she learned that this was not a weekend, or a day off, she asked after lunch if she could go back to school.

Huh. Got you!

By that time, I had made an appointment with the doctor and told her she could resume her academic career tomorrow. She agreed and continued to rest.

It turns out that there is no sign of infection or anything. But her ear still hurts. And the doctor's recommendation is nothing more than extra TLC.

Sure, I can do that. But without it becoming a pity party. Or a party away from school. There will be no bell to beckon my services, or milkshakes, or special Jell-o. I will do KD, and I will tuck her in and make sure she has what she needs. I will be a mom and make her feel comfortable and properly nurtured.

And you can bet that tomorrow she will be in perfect shape and will be running out the door to go to school.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS We had a grand Thanksgiving weekend and thanks to my cousins for hosting Sunday dinner!If you haven't read this month's Who's DDM, then head on over and take a gander. These photos will make more sense to you.

You can see the alternating tomato and apple juices. And the pickle dish. I love the turkey candle holder. Where do you buy those? By the way, my cousin and I were in charge of the juice.

Olives, sweet pickles, pickled cauliflower! Every table had its own!

It's the little things that make a big dinner so great. Don't you think?

EvieG is in ballet this year. She loves it, which is great. She is at a dance school that requires my attention to detail. I have to have her in a certain outfit, her hair has to be in a pony tail or ballet bun, and she has to wear pink leather ballet slippers.

These slippers are my nemesis.

We bought the slippers only to learn that I had to sew the elastic straps to the sides in a criss-cross. I thought to myself, Really? Can I pay someone to do it? I can barely sew the Sparks' badges onto her hot pink sash, let alone sew straps to ensure they fit right. I can't even hem pants. Or put the button in the right spot, for crying out loud!

I had one week to get it done.

It was last Saturday. The slippers were sitting on our bookshelf. I stared at them. As I settled into bed, I took out the hot pink thread that I used for Sparks and a needle. I put the thread through the needle. I attempted to stitch. The thread got caught up somewhere between the inside and the outside of the shoe and I couldn't straighten it out. There were loops everywhere. After 3 attempts, I cut the thread off and threw the slipper across the room. I had a nice pile of thread on my side table.

Three days passed. I told Hubby last Sunday that we needed to get this done and that I was going to pay someone to do it for me. He scoffed at me and told me he would do it.

I agreed and repeated that we had to have these by Wednesday.

No problem, he reassured me.

Last night the slippers still weren't sewn. Crap. I concluded I was screwed and that I would be scolded at ballet the following day by the instructor because EvieG would be without shoes.

I bucked up. I told myself, I can do this. I can. I can. I can sew the friggin' straps on these friggin' slippers.

I tucked myself into bed and pulled out my arsenal of needles, and my hot pink thread. I selected a big needle, figuring it would be easier to maneuver through the leather.

It broke. In half.

Some more thread to add to the pile.

I then picked out a teeny needle, figuring it would slide through easier. To push a needle through leather is tough work and I didn't have a thimble on me at that time. I mean, who owns a thimble? When I think of a thimble I think of Thimblina, or some fairy tale where a little fairy sits on top of a lovely silver thimble and then makes a nice house out of it where all of the little forest animals and fairies come to play, until she is swept away by the Thimble Prince who whisks her away to the bigger and better thimble palace.

I opened my side table drawer and pulled out my tiny bottle of medicated eye/ear drops to use as a makeshift thimble.

I punctured the bottle.

Again, I tore out the thread and added it to the growing pile. I moved the leaking bottle to the side table.

I tried one more time and successfully completed three stitches. I used the heel of the other shoe as my thimble.

Hubby came in. He looked at me and asked why I looked so frustrated. I showed him the slipper. He took a look at it and said, "This won't last! You only have three stitches in this!" and then he looked at it more carefully. He then asked, "Isn't this strap supposed to go across the shoe?"

I started laughing so hard I cried. I finally got one strap sewn and I sewed it to the WRONG SPOT!

I was so angry by this point that I threw the slippers across the room.

I told him he was doing it, and gave him a deadline of Wednesday afternoon.

He did one shoe last night. And in a totally different way than I did. He strategically placed the stitches on either side of the leather seam. Why didn't I think of that? He finished the other slipper this afternoon. With needle-noised pliers as his thimble. Why didn't I think of that?

The good thing that came out of all of this was that I realized A) I will never sew again unless I have a thimble, or needle-nosed pliers and B) I will never sew again. Who am I kidding? C) All of the thread I went through will make one nesting bird very happy.

I can't wait to find the nest in the bush out front lined with hot pink thread next Spring.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS Hubby must have been a seamstress in his former life. EvieG loves her shoes that much more thanks to him.

PPS October Who's DDM is done. I am waiting for my web page helper to put it up for me. Keep checking back!

This is one busy Wee Lady. She is like 3 kids in one. She is a fart in a mitt. She can't sit still for 2 seconds. I am going to love to see what her teachers will have to say one day. And all I will do is nod, pat the teacher on the back and wish her good luck.

The Destroyer is constantly in search for food. Like an animal, she is on the prowl during every waking second of her day. I am one step from duct taping the cupboards shut. After losing sight of her again for the 80th time in two hours, I will check over my shoulder only to find her scrounging in the pantry cupboard. She pulls out the granola bars, or the fruit snacks, cashews, or even the quinoa.

I know it's lunch when she pulls out the two things that mean the most to her- the Skippy peanut butter and liquid chocolate for her milk. She will even open the fridge door and bury herself among the eggs and broccoli in search of the yogurt tubes.

Today I heard her shuffling about again. I called to her, but received no response. I expected her to bound out from behind the counter with a handful of crackers. There was nothing. Thinking she had choked on the almonds, I went around the corner to make sure she was still breathing. I found her sitting on the floor beside her tower. Her tower of tuna with a bottle of balsamic vinaigrette on top for a flag.

She was beaming at me. She pointed to it and hollered, "Tow-a!"

To be fair, there were a couple of cans of sockeye salmon in there too.

It is one of those instances where you say to yourself, Hey! That's a lot of fish! How come we don't eat that? I wonder how long it has been in our house? Didn't I move that can of pink salmon with us last January? Well I guess we are set in case of a global crisis. All I need is some water and batteries for the flashlights.

And so with this tuna, I am making a tuna casserole tomorrow. This is an easy meal for at least three days. I was thinking of putting crushed Rice Krispies on top instead of Regular Ruffles. Or maybe I should try Corn Flakes. Or bread crumbs.

There's nothing like tuna casserole soaked in cream of mushroom soup with Ruffles on top. Why ruin a good thing with cereal?

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS I still have to write my Who's DDM and reviews. I know. I suck. I just can't find the time! Forgive me.