My brother is engaged

I wish I was online more so I could lament about my brother and his choice of fiance.

Her name is Kourtney. They have known each other since June. They are getting married in February. She is eight-freaking-teen and looks like she was attacked by MaryKay.

I should be nicer, but the first time I met her, she had icky chipped green fingernail polish that was the same color as the EYESHADOW that went all the way up to her eyebrows. Um, can I just say, ew?

So, I don't really have a lot to say when it comes to fashion but if you're trying to impress your future in-laws is green eyeshadow by the pound really the way to go?

So I'm a little moody. My family has these 'girl's weekends' where my sisters, mom, and I get to get together and have fun. I planned it for the first weekend in November. I find out yesterday from my little sister that my mom has invited Kourtney (without telling me) so I now have to plan for 5 instead of 4. If that doesn't make it bad enough, its Kourtney's birthday so I have to make a chocolate cake for her instead of the pumpkin bars that were going with our fall theme. (BTW, JeriLynn, I'm making your curry pumpkin soup recipe, thank you for blogging that like over a year ago.)

*sigh*

I feel all of this indignation but thus far anyone I've complained to has made me feel like a selfish brat for not kowtowing to my mother and this eight-freaking-teen-year-old that I'm supposed to love just because my brother does. She isn't planning on going to college now that she's getting married, how am I supposed to relate to her?

I miss you all, I sorry I don't post but I don't have the Internet at home or at work so right now I'm at my parent's place. (My dad is usually on the computer but his brother is getting married in Boise today for the 4th or 5th time so they're out of town.)

You guys are boring!

Okay, so I'm guilty, too. Yeah, so my life is pretty normal day-to-day. Most of what I do involves taking care of someone else. I like my life. I get to watch my daughter grow. I get to teach her colors, animals, how to read, how to shake people's hands. I can listen to her language develop. I can run through fallen leaves with her and teach her how to correctly pet animals. Oh, and I get to listen to Dr. Laura and Rush Limbaugh and talk radio all day long. If I want to. I don't listen all day. But often.

Liesl is talking-- finally. She says "Dada", "Mamma", "whaztha?", or, rarely, "whoztha?", and I think even "dah" for "dog." She also grunts to moo, bark, meow, oink and say whatever rabbits say; and the new one this week is "baa," which she correctly associates with sheep. She's finally taken to lugging around the green and purple (stuffed) seahorse we brought back from Baltimore, and the elephant she loves she still loves much.

Also, she's got 16 teeth. That's all her baby teeth except her 2-year molars. (So she has 4 of her baby teeth left to go.) Most babies her age have four or five or six teeth. Nope. 16. That means that she can chew food and things most other babies choke on. But it also means a lot of bloodly lips.

She stuck her finger in a small motor a week ago. Luckily it was a weak motor and stopped rotating because of her logged finger. Also, luckily, it only got a little scraped up. It was still a scary experience to have to pull her finger out of a motor.

Me and Liesl went camping a couple weeks ago. Liesl liked it, but she dragged Elephant around outside more than I wanted her two. Elephant will never be the same. . . .

Tuesday, me and the hubby went to the Collective Soul concert. It was okay. The lead singer behaved in a way a good little girl like me wasn't used to. However, the music was good, and the concert didn't last forever. I prefer Martina McBride.

Well, that's all so far. The hubby will get his military assignment in two weeks, so you can all expect to hear from me again. (And unless you guys get your rears in line, you'll have to read two of my posts in a row! Do you really want that?!)

xo-J