On February 29 the newest member of my family arrived. My niece is a princess and she has my middle name. I have been excited for her arrival and I am so happy she is here. I can't wait to get to know her fully and spoil her the way an Aunt is supposed to spoil her niece.
Thankfully the tornado did not hit my city tonight. I am sorry for those that it did effect. But what I am not sorry for, is the torture that severe weather put my 71-year-old grandmother. Why am I not sorry for this you ask? Because she is crazy. It is funny to talk to crazy people (anyone that knows my Nana knows why it is ok for me to talk about her like this). She holed up in her basement for hours, even when there was only a slight drizzle. I called her at one point to tell her to go back upstairs, that we were clear. A couple of minutes later I heard the warning sirens and called her back to tell her to go back to the cubby hole she created for she and the dumbest dog in the USA. Her response, "Well sh!t." This is funny to me because she wasn't saying it because of her fear of storms, she was staying it because she didn't feel like walking back up or down the stairs again. In a way I can relate to her, but not because of the stairs. It was because of the minihumans. Being in a confined area with those 3 hellians for more than 17 seconds can cause anxiety within me that no tornado could begin to touch. The questions would be enough to make me leave them there while I stood in the front yard willing the wind to do a calgon on me. The questions that I would have to answer would be something like (and keep in mind these are coming at me all within 17 seconds), "Mommy why are we in the basement?" "What's a tornado?" "Where's Daddy?" "I have to poop." "Why do you have candles?" "Can I watch Mickey Mouse?" "Did you know Mr. Kevin is home" (Mr. Kevin is our neighbor and she really asked me this today) "Is Leyla still coming over?" "Where is our state on the map?" "Can I have a cup cake?" "Can I ride my bike down here?" "Where is the ping pong?". Bless their little talkative hearts. Would I be a bad person if I had a bottle of wine in our disaster/first aid kit?
Mh3 turned 2-years-old a few days ago. I have journals for all three girls that I write in for them periodically. I wrote in it on the night of her birthday. I was trying to explain her personality to her and I realized most of the adjectives that I was using made her sound like a whiny little brat. But then I realized, she's two and she has to have a stubborn/dominant personality in order to survive in this house. She's not only a whiny little brat, she's also affectionate, funny, smart, talkative (I don't know where she got that), independent and determined. I love everything about her. Well, really I love everything about all of them...except when they talk....I kid, I kid
