Sometimes, amidst all the sisterly squabbles, my Mommy just needs a lasting reminder that Eliza and I really do love each other. That's what these pictures are for.... to get her through just one more round of "That's mine!!! She took it from me!!! I'm going to run away FOREVER!!!" Ahhh, sister's. What would you do without 'em...
Poor, poor Eliza. She's been spending alot of time on this here naughty chair lately. For a little one with not alot to say she sure knows how to press my Mommy's buttons. I'm going to have to teach her how to fly under the radar a little more, or she's going to have red paint permanently etched on the seat of all her pants.
Everyone, meet Ken. Ken, this is everyone. Ken is the newest addition to our family. He looks after us, along with his big brother's Ron and Carl. They don't say much. I'm a little confused though, I thought that our new addition would look a little more like Eliza and me, and not be hanging from a wall.....
Yep, I know. It has been an unforgivingly, outrageously long time. But it's not my fault! (We all know by now that nothing ever is, right?) If you take a close look at the picture on the left, and read the words on Eliza's shirt, you will find the explanation to my absence. My Mommy and Daddy thought there wasn't enough of us here in this house, and decided one more would be a good idea. Don't tell them, but I've finally just gotten used to the other new one! Anyway, come July, I get to be a big sister again, which means I have to start all over again with the laying down of the ground rules (everything is mine, if it's bad I didn't do it, I get first dibs on the cookies, etc.). And as for my Mom, if you take a look at the bottom picture and pretend that is her head is on my body, you will get an idea what she has been doing for the past two and a half months straight. (Well, that and dry heaving whenever she smells cooked onions.) So, please forgive me, I promise not to leave for so long ever again! Now, can someone out there let me know where I can find a shirt that says "I'm the boss of these here little ones."?
Just in case you're wondering next time you see me how it is I have become so much more graceful and agile, this is how. My Mommy signed me up for ballet and gymnastics classes because she must have known what a natural athlete I am, and thought I should be given an outlet to showcase my abilities. (Either that, or she just needed safe places for me to go to burn off some of my excess energy, and has decided she would even be willing to pay someone to help get that accomplished.)
Ride em' cowgirl! This post is a special shout-out to my Mommy's good friend Rhonda, who was nice enough to let me and my cousin Anna come out and ride her horses one day. She let us brush them, and feed them, and give them treats, and she didn't even get mad when I told her I wanted to ride, and then I didn't want to ride. And then I wanted to ride, and then I didn't want to ride. And then oh! I really wanted to ride, but then you know what? Not so much anymore. She finally convinced me to climb aboard one of those ginormous creatures, and it was then and there that I decided that I was going to move in with her, her ponies, and her talking bird. Thanks again, Miss Rhonda! (And tell that upside-down, giggling, chatterbox, parrot friend of yours that I'm not through with him yet either!)
So I often hear my Mommy wondering aloud about her day seemingly disappearing, and pondering why it is she just can't seem to get anything done around the house. Well, Mommy, I think I've found your answer. Her name is Eliza, she's a little short for a tornado but she can definitely leave some devastation in her wake, and (I hate to break it to you) I don't think she's going anywhere anytime soon. (Unless it's back to your closet to reorganize some more of your shoes...)
How long is too long??? This is the question of the day over at the Alberda household. That mean Mommy of mine has been hinting around at cutting my hair off, saying that she's sick of trying to keep the spaghetti, milk, dog slobber, and (most recently) pinecone sap out of it, but I keep telling her that I love my "long princess hair". What's a girl to do? Keep the tresses and deal with a cranky, comb-and-peanut-butter wielding Mommy, or cut them off and perhaps miss out on my prince because he doesn't recognize a princess when he sees one? What would you do? (Keep in mind that I do have my very own personal hair brusher in the form of my little sister, so this is one less chore my Mommy has to perform.)
I love my slightly OCD, collection-collecting Nana! As soon as she saw that McDonald's was putting out a Wizard of Oz collection, she geared up, emptied her change purse, and didn't stop pestering those cashiers at the local Mickey-D's until she had bought me, Eliza, and all of my six other girl cousins the entire set. She is so silly, and generous, and quirky, you just gotta love her!!! (Not to mention she also has an insatiable appetite for cinnamon rolls on Saturday mornings, that she absolutely cannot eat without one, two, or twelve of her grandkids accompanying her.) Thank you, Nana, you carry around such a big part of my heart. :)
Who needs to go trick-or-treating when you can just hit up the Zeeland Pumpkinfest parade once a year? (And this picture is what's left after me and my cousin Roxy inhaled as much as we could sitting street-side, while our Mommies were preoccupied with our sisters.) Thanks for a great time, Aunt Krista! You live in the coolest place ever, how did you get to special order parades to come through your front yard? All I get are people whizzing by at thirty miles over the speed limit and a crazy, yelling Mommy trying to chase them down and tell them that they need to slow down.
So apparantly Chuck-E-Cheese is where you end up when you get rained out of an outing to a pumpkin patch, and your Mommy and Daddy don't want to deal with a very, very devastated three year old. And to top it off, I've also found my new calling in life... Game Tester! We happened to be there when they were testing all the machines, and not only did we get to watch them, but I got to keep all the free tickets! So now, instead of coming home with one plastic frog, I got to come home with about forty. I wonder how much school you have to go to in order to learn how to drive an arcade car....
