Fashion Models [Search results for The Princess] 

We all know that summer is coming to an end - except The Princess. She still wants to go to the beach.

She asked, over and over, this past summer if we could go to the beach. I made the (BIG) mistake of saying, "Maybe we could go once school starts. It won't be so busy then and it's cheaper to go to the beach after school starts." I said this, honestly believing that we may very well do this or believing that I could do this for her.

I'm just getting old, I think. I know there are times when I just can't stand the thought of the process - like going to the beach.

There we are at the hotel and the kids all want to go down to the beach. Sounds like a good idea; that's why we came to the beach. So, as their mother, I have to agree. But ... I have done the beach before, many times, with and without kids, and I am telling you ... going to the beach with my kids is exhausting! There is absolutely nothing I like, anymore, about going to the beach. Not the ocean, not the sand, not the wind, not the shells (well, I kind of still like the shells), not the sand getting into EVERYTHING, not the sand toys, not the sand castles, not the seaweed and not the SHARKS!

I think maybe there was a time that I must have liked the beach. But, after I had kids and have made that trip one too many times, I have come to not like the beach at all. And it is the process:

Get out all the swimsuits, put all the swimsuits on, gather up enough towels, find the sunscreen, slather the sunscreen on everyone, get the chairs ready to go, get the drinks in the cooler, get the snacks, get the sand toys ... drag all this stuff from the hotel down to the beach, in several several trips (because you can't possibly take it all in one trip and none of these goin'-to-the-beach excited children can help carry a thing without whining all the way to the waters edge about it). Walk way to far across the hot sand, helping the little ones as we go; hauling heavy coolers, chairs and towels, blah, blah, blah. And then we sit in the scorching sun with sand sticking to our sweaty bodies, sand all in our swimsuits and in our eyes, the wind blowing obnoxiously, make a few sand castles, worry if the kids are going out too far in the surf, worry about the under current, worry about the jellyfish, seaweed and SHARKS! And then when, after only an hour, the children are tired of the beach and want to go back up to the hotel pool, I want to MAKE them stay at the beach ... after all we have gone through to get them down there. But, I don't want to stay either ... so we pack up all the crap we drug down to the waters edge and haul it all back up, over the hot sand, rinse all the sandy feet and bodies off in the shower the hotel has positioned at the end of the pier, unload what needs to go back to the room and ... end up at the pool ---- right where I wanted to be ANYWAY! And then ... we do it all over again, the next day.

Camping is pretty much the same exhausting process, only worse.

I don't like to go to the beach (!) or camping or anywhere that involves a long process in getting us all there. I will do it though; just like I do those damned awful gaudy orange and black Halloween decorations in my house every year - for my children. But, I do sometimes look for ways around doing it if the end does not really justify the "crap I have to go through to make it happen".

If the payoff is to see my little boy build the best and most magnificent sand castle of all the kids on the beach, then I will do it and I will take pictures and I will be happy I inconvenienced myself, just to get those precious photos. I will do it just to over-hear one of them telling their friend, "Yeah, we went to the beach and we had so much fun." I will do it to hear my baby say,"I love going to the beach, Mama," and never once let her know just how much I don't. I will do it. I have done it - many times.

I haven't actually planned this trip to the beach that I promised The Princess - but, as you can see, it is on my mind. If we do it ... I'll take some (d***) pictures.

On the upside ... I've had A LOT of practice doing things I don't want to do and I've had A LOT of practice going to the beach - maybe this time I would love it.

My husband came to bed a couple nights ago while I was sitting up reading a book and he walked up, took his jeans and red t-shirt off and dropped them on the floor on his side of the bed, as he does every night. And then he said, "I think that dog's finally trained." He was referring to our two year old Pomeranian, Barbie.

When my husband made this comment about the pup finally being trained, I didn't even ask what he meant as I assumed that he meant that she had gone easily into her crate. I simply said, "She's been trained. It's you that's not trained." He just laughed and crawled into bed.

He knew exactly what I meant when I made this comment. The puppy is pretty well trained, but she will not listen to a word he says, because I am the alpha dog in our family. She listens to most anything I tell her to do, because ... I am the alpha dog. My husband knows this as well. He doesn't necessarily like it or even know how it happened, but he knows.

I became aware that I was the alpha dog once we got Barbie. We also have another dog (a five year old Golden Retriever) named Buddy. I was the leader of the pack with Buddy before Barbie ever came along, but never exactly realized it until her arrival. Our family order goes: Me, Husband, Twins (equal on the totem pole), Son, Princess, Buddy, Barbie and then the three cats (Garfield, Snape and Boo). At least that is the order the dogs relate to. And I think if my husband were to have to admit this honestly, he would agree that this is probably the order of things.

I didn't choose this alpha position. I don't think I was really even aware of what it meant until I started watching The Dog Whisperer (Cesar Millan), on TV. He's amazing - that guy- with those dogs. Anyway, I've watched him a lot over the past year or so and agree with much of what he says on his show, with regard to dogs. And one of the main emphasis' he makes - show after show- is that dogs see their family's as a pack and therefore need to have established or establish themselves, a leader. In our family, I was already the leader before these canines came along - so no need to change that, as far as I was concerned. They see me as the alpha dog.

My husband doesn't watch this show as often (if ever) as I, and probably doesn't even realize all this "alpha" stuff; therefore, he gets his ego hurt that these dogs won't listen to him. According to Cesar Millan, everyone (all humans) should be able to control these dogs - we should all be their leaders - as we are the humans. In my house, pretty much everyone is following me - especially the dogs.

My kids are always arguing about who's the boss. "You're not the boss of me," The Princess will tell her big brother. And then she will put her hands on her hips and turn her chin up in the air and announce, "Mom's the boss of everybody." I often tell my kids that their daddy is really the boss of everybody - just so they know.

Recently, The Princess came to me and asked, "Are you in charge?" to which I said, "Yes." She then said, "Of everybody?" I said, "Well, I'm in charge of all you kids," and she smiled and walked away. I think she is trying to clear this concept up. I honestly think she may very well believe that I'm in charge of everybody - in the whole world. I didn't clarify that for her, as it didn't occur to me that she might think this until she left my room. That's okay - if she believes I'm in charge of everybody in the whole world - I kind of like her thinking I'm that powerful; like I have super powers or something. She's only six ... she'll find out soon enough how very little power I actually have.

On the upside (for my husband) ... for the most part, the "alpha dog" position SUCKS! He's not missing anything.

I am sneaking like a quiet little mouse into the kitchen.

In my hand I have a piece of artwork the Princess made at school.

I fold it gently, lift the lid off the kitchen trash can, shove the piece of art way down into the kitchen trash, put the lid back on the can ... and walk away. Shhhhew ... another piece of 1st grade art ... gone.

(Oh ... you think you will never do this!! You do!! But ... YOU WILL!!!)

Ten minutes later ... (*loud 6 year old girl screaming like her leg has been chopped off*)"WHY DID YOU THROW AWAY MY ART???"

She found it.

And ... this is not the first time this has happened.

I just can not keep all of this art (*sigh*). I have four kids and I have kept so much art, I could start my own museum. I have to be choosy about the art I feel needs to be stored for the next 20 years. I pick and choose the pieces I really like and the rest ... I sneak into the trash.

These kids believe and think I should be keeping ALL of their art. And, I have kept a lot. I did not want to keep this:

Now ... there is nothing wrong with this lovely piece (except now it has some sort of trash can fluid stain on it - lovely). It's beautiful, in a six-year-old-abstract-kind-of-way ... it is! I just don't LOVE it. Now, this picture she drew recently - I did keep:

I don't know why exactly. I'm not really even sure who/what it is (an elf I think) - but I LOVED it! The yellow face and all. The nice round red lips. The really skinny neck. The groovy hat. The blood-shot eyes (she gives all her people blood-shot eyes lately) - with actual yellow eye-lids. The "I Love You Mom" all over it.

I can't keep ALL the art. I know they want me too. I know they think I do. But, I can't (*groan*) and I don't.

And ... I don't keep all those d*** McDonald toys scattered around my house either. I used to keep them ... find the child they belonged to and give the toy back to be put in a toy box somewhere. I don't do that anymore. When I see one of those toys (in a wrapper or not) on a chair or on the floor ... I grab the thing and toss it in the trash. When The Princess comes to me looking for her recent McDonald's toy that I know I have probably thrown away, I say, "I don't know where it is, Hon. We'll just have to get you another one when we go back to McDonald's (TOMORROW)!"

Yep ... I throw away some of the art and I will continue to throw away that toy I find on the ground that has no monetary or sentimental value to anyone ... into the trash. And ... as each of these worthless toys and not-so-really-special pieces of art, are carted away to the landfill ... I have to admit that I do experience a small amount of guilt ... but more often ... gratitude that a few more moments of sanity are granted to me.

On the upside ... I have thrown away about as much art as I have kept. If they had pulled every piece of art I have actually thrown away, out of the trash - we'd have had to of built another house just to store it all in. She can save this piece of abstract-roller-coaster-on-a-big-grassy-field masterpiece ... I'll keep it (*note to self: buy yet another Rubbermaid storage box ... start new box for Princess' art).

Yesterday was a beautiful, sunny day. In the afternoon, The Princess and my niece came to me and asked to go swimming, and so I said, sure.

I watched as they ran happily out to the pool in their swimsuits and beach towels in hand and I went back into the house. Not five minutes went by before The Princess came running into my room, threw herself dramatically backwards on my bed and began whining, "You have to come! We can't even swim. There's a caterpillar in the pool. It's dead. Someone has to get it out," she was waving her arms, rolling back and forth on the bed and squealing all this in the most high pitched voice she could muster (a pitch that only 6 year old girls can reach).

I looked at her calmly and said, "I'll come. I'll get it out," and she stopped her wailing and followed me outside. On the way, I said, "Jimminey ... it's just a bug. Why can't you two swim with these dead bugs? Can't you just swim around them? They're dead, for goodness sake," as this was certainly not the first time I had been called upon to scoop a dead creature from the pool's sparkling waters, before The Princess would swim.

I went to our storage shed and retrieved the pool net and scooped the "caterpillar" out of the pool. Have a look at this CREATURE! WHAT THE HELL IS IT?!?! I told The Princess, "For future reference ... this IS NOT a caterpillar and ... you were right NOT to swim with it."

On the upside ... it was DEAD! On the downside ... I'm sure it's cousin's are out there just waiting to go for a swim.

While we were driving in the car yesterday, I was listening to The Princess and my niece in the back seat talking. This was part of their conversation (keep in mind that they are both 6 years old):

The Princess: "Do you eat your own blood?"

My niece: "I do. No ... I don't do that anymore."

The Princess: "I did once because I was at school and there was a lot of blood."

No ... Neither me, my husband, my brother, his wife, The Princess or my niece ... are vampires! And, I guess you wouldn't be a vampire anyway, if you were actually just eating your own blood. I don't know ... either way ... no known vampires in the family.

On the upside ... They could have been discussing the eating of other people's blood.

Okay ... I have four kids and that equates to dealing with, over the years - a lot of poop. I mean, waaaay more poop than people should have to admit to dealing with. There were diapers for YEARS! There are toilets never flushed. There were accidents by toddlers (in pants and out of pants). There have been numerous constipation issues. I am and have been for years ... the POOP expert in our family.

Well ... since these children of mine have all pretty much reached the age where I am not dealing with their poop issues much, anymore - I figured I was free - finally! On the other side, of the issues of poop! Wrong!

Yesterday, I went into The Princess' bedroom and there on the carpet was ... a pile left by our STUPID DOG! Right there in the middle of the floor! Right there on my clean carpet! This dog had been outside for hours, but the moment we let her into the house for a little air conditioning, she pranced right up to my daughter's bedroom and crapped right on the floor. WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH THAT STUPID DOG???

This dog of ours is a Pomeranian and she is too cute for words. She has this cute little face and furry little body. The Princess named her Barbie and we call her Barbie Dog. She is cute. She is waaaayy too cute to poop - especially anywhere inside my house and anywhere that I have to clean it up!

On the upside (and it's not easy to find an upside to poop) ... I have to admit that I was relieved that it was the dog and not The Princess that left this nasty present on the floor of her bedroom. Been there - done that!

Recently, my six year old daughter (The Princess), asked me, "Are you smarter than a kindergartner?" I said, "Uh, yes. I would say that I am probably smarter than most all kindergartners." She must have agreed, because she didn't argue this point, she simply walked away. This doesn't say much - me being smarter than most all kindergartners, but ... it must have impressed my six year old.

However, she is not always impressed. Around Christmas time this past year when "The Princess" and I were in the kitchen making cookies together, she was bragging on this kid in her class and how he could name all of Santa's reindeer. I said, "Yes, some people are really talented." She asked, "What does talented mean?" I said, "It's when someone is really good at something," to which she said, "Like Santa." I said, "Yes ... he makes really good toys." And then I said, "Everyone is talented. You're talented and I'm talented too." She then said, "You're talented?" sort of questioning this possibility. I answered, "Well, yeah." She then said, "Can you juggle?" To which I answered, "No."

Sometimes, the people around me think I'm exceptional and then other times ... not so much. Maybe I need to take up juggling - they'd surely appreciate that - me walking around all the time with three oranges floating rhythmically above my head.

On the upside ... I was at The Princess' school today and one of the little students in her class asked me, "Are you her (The Princess') mother?" to which I answered, "Yes I am," in a very happy voice. Happy ... because, in the past, on more than one occasion, I have been asked by her classmates, "Are you her grandmother?" To which I have been forced to say, "No ... I'm her mother," in a not so happy voice.

The Princess announced, "I want to be a rock star or an artist when I grow up." And then, with a worried look on her face, she said, "But ... I don't have the clothes to be an artist."

Like she is sooooooo dressin' like a rock star - now!

This is a picture of the Princess swimming. Look at her bloodshot eyes (that's from too much chlorine in the water). And look at her beautiful swimsuit (gotta have one of those - with matching swim shoes ... I guess). And the black things in the water with her are, uh ... sharks maybe - I'm not sure).

On the upside ... At least I'm teaching her all the important stuff and she's got all her priorities in order - I'm such a gooooood mother).

Here I am ... the "goooood" Mom. Look at my rosey cheeks and nice long eyelashes. Look at my nice "thin" cross-shaped body with the orange dress on and pink braclets. And look - I'm waving, "Bye kids. See you after school." It's the exact likeness of me - The Princess is quite the artist!

I imagine that one day I will stand in front of God and He will say, "So, here you are." He will then open His big book and announce, "Let's see how you did." And, I am sure I will not say a word.

Then He will ask, "How do you think it went? Are they happy - your children? Did they succeed in the world? Are they good and loving people?"

And I hope I will be able to answer honestly, "I did the best that I could do. They are happy. They are successful. And they are good and loving people." And then I hope that God will pat me on my back and I will go on my way.

But who knows? I would suspect that when my children are called to stand in front of God and he asks,"How did it go? Was she a good mother?" that my children may have a different slant on the whole thing and God may very well just summon me back.

Years ago, when my twins were small, we were traveling to the Corpus Christi beach one summer. In the van with us was my Aunt Don, my mother's sister, in the front passenger's seat next to me. One of my daughters was complaining from the back seat that the sun was shining through the window into her eyes and she cried, "Mama, the sun is in my eyes." I said, "Just wait a little bit and it will move," knowing full well that the sun would move when our van followed the curve of the road in such a direction that the sun would move away from her window. When this indeed happen a short time later, I heard my little daughter turn to her sister and say, "See ... Mama can move the sun." I turned to my aunt and said, "See ... I can move the sun."

Sometimes I can move the sun and then sometimes I can't conjure up even simple answers. Why is bird poop white? But ... I have tried. I have tried to see what my children see and hear what they hear. I try to listen to them, respond to their every need, encourage them, and guide them. I have tried.

When the Princess was two years old, she came to my room one morning, climbed up onto my bed, got real close to my face and said, It's me. It's me (The Princess) - your tiny girl." I hadn't asked her who she was, I was asleep until I heard her words, but I was happy to see her. I would tell people this story and always say, "And she is ... my tiny girl."

You can't teach children to be this special. You can only hope that you are awake to hear the wonderful things they might say to you and look into their eyes and see their specialness.

I'm not the best mother and I'm not the worst mother. I'm somewhere in between. I strive to be better and I hope that counts for something when I stand in God's presence. I hope he realizes that I often did take time to ... hear them. To see them. And as for the rest ... I sincerely hope that I will be able to say ... "I did the very best that I could do".

The Princess came to my room last evening, threw herself down on the floor and started saying, "There are two kinds of bears - teddy bears and bears." Then she said, "Oh yeah, grizzly. There are three kinds of bears - teddy bears, bears and grizzly." She was talking to herself, rolling around on her back, holding both feet in her hands, up in the air. I didn't have the time to clarify this "bear" list and tell her about polar bears, panda bears, black bears, koala bears, etc., because God knows, then we'd have been talking for an hour about all the bears. I decided that I would tell her later. I just let her continue to talk to herself - something she is quite happy doing.

Speaking of stuffed bears, one day, a couple of months ago, my mother came over to our house and caught me in the process of putting yet more things (boxes and furniture - even some stuffed bears) in the garage, to then be donated to Goodwill. She asked what I was doing. I explained that I was cycling stuff out of my house - moving out old stuff in order to make room for the new stuff.

In my mother's generation, their houses were set up a certain way and they pretty much didn't change things. My mother's wasn't a generation that felt the need to go out and buy new bed spreads to update the look of their bedrooms or new dishes because they got tired of the old ones. My mother has the same stuff in her house now that she had when I was growing up. She has bought new stuff over the years, of course, but she just arranges that new stuff in with the old stuff and makes it work (there's "bearly" room to walk, but ...). Her generation is of the thinking that if it still works, you don't throw it out. If you don't want it and can't find anyone else in the family that wants it - you put it in the attic.

Shortly after that day in my garage, we came across a big screen TV that some friends of mine were getting rid of and we (my brother and I) decided that it would be nice if my mother had it. We figured she should come into the 21st century and finally get rid of the console TV she has had for thirty years. So ... we got this new TV and we helped move it to her living room. Just about the time we figured she was going to put that old console TV in the garage - to get rid of - she announced that she wanted to put it in another room as, "It still works," she said. "We know it still works," my brother and I said in unison, "That's not the point. The point is that it's easily thirty years old and you have to look at the floor when you watch it." We moved it for her - into the other room. It will be there when she dies and we will inherit it in her will: "To Kellan ... I leave my 1976 Magnivox Console TV." I hope I get it, so I can put in in my garage and finally cycle it away.

We are certainly a generation of change - my mother's was not. In some ways I am very much like my mother, but in many ways we are very different. As different as my mother and I are, I am sure it will be the same with me and my children. I can't wait to see the things my children find peculiar about me when they are in their forties and I am seventy years old.

On the upside ... all that actual good stuff in my mother's house, we will also inherit in her will.

The Princess loves Barbie. She doesn't necessarily like playing with the dolls ... but she loves all the Barbie stuff (cuz it's PINK). When we gave her a precious little Pomeranian for her 4th Birthday, she promptly gave the dog the name - Barbie. We call the dog: Barbie Dog.

Yesterday, The Princess came into my room holding a Barbie doll. She stopped at my door, caught my attention (by swinging the doll around and around by its hair), held the doll up to her face and asked, "Do we look the same?" totally certain that the answer would be Yes (what else would I say; even though the doll has waist length blond hair and doesn't at all resemble my little darling - what else would I say?). I, of course, said, "Yes." And she turned, flipped her chestnut brown hair with her hand and walked out of my room. I could hear her in the hallway saying, "That's right ... we look zactly the same."

I don't know what brought this on - this sudden need to assure herself that she was the spittin' image of her Barbie, but I decided it was fine with me. There are worse things she could be worrying about ... like ... like ... okay, it bothered me a bit.

On the upside ... while I could have and maybe should have, told her that she didn't look a thing like the doll and that it was me that she looked like instead ... she'd have been highly disappointed (not to mention she would have thrown a fit until I agreed). I told her what she wanted to hear. Sometimes you just need to hear ... what you want to hear. Sometimes you just need to tell them what they want to hear (for everyones sake)!

The Princess, was my husband and my 17th wedding anniversary gift to one another. She was not planned. I remember a friend saying to me at the time I announced this news (that I was pregnant again) to him, "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" jokingly referring to my age.

I say it was my husband's fault, he says it was mine - this unplanned conception. He tells people that he, on the night in question, was like a fighter pilot ... coming in for a landing. He says he could see the landing deck, he could see the lights and he could see me ... waving him in. I guess that makes me ... not his loving wife, not his soul mate, not the mother of his beautiful children, but ... an aircraft carrier (I already knew this).

I don't recall it exactly the same way. After seventeen years of marriage, I may have looked up to the sky and I am sure I saw the aircraft coming at me ... but, I'm not so sure I was waving him in.

But, what a gift The Princess has been! While she was nine years younger than our oldest daughters and my husband and I were ancient when we had her, she was the greatest surprise! I just love her to death! She tells me, "I love you as many as there are grasses in the world, as many as there are bees in the world, as many as there are leaves in the world, as many as there are cherries in the world and as many as there are eyelashes in the world."

She's six years old now, our baby and ... I love her as many as there all those things ... as well! (I'd say her daddy does too!).

I'm walking down the sidewalk, on the way to the car with The Princess. I say, "So, why didn't you eat all your lunch today at school?"

She's walking out in front of me, kicking at the acorns that are scattered all over the walk and says, nonchalantly, "I didn't want to eat all of it. I byed some things."

I say, "What do you mean you byed some things? That's why you take your lunch ... so you don't have to buy anything."

She says, now squatting down, so as to scoop up a handful of these fallen acorns, "I byed some juice and a cheeseburger. I had to have the cheeseburger."

"You had to have it?" I say, watching her now as she pulls her pudgy little body up into the van, trying hard not to spill her handful of nuts (cuz, we gotta keep some of those nuts ya know).

"My tummy told me to buy it," she climbs into her seat and then looks over at me adoringly, with those big chocolate pudding colored eyes.

I lean in and put my hand on her jiggly tummy and say, "No more burgers. Eat. Your. Lunch," and she giggles.

On the upside ... the school called and said there's no more money on The Princess' account (and she owes $3.30). They won't give her anymore burgers until I pay the account current. Sorry Baby ... no more burgers for you. These kids think that burgers just grow on trees ... but they don't - that would be 50 Billion ACORNS - 3000 of which are now in my van cup holders, in between the cushions of my couch, on the floor of my son's bedroom in neat little chipmunk piles (he's saving them for the winter), in the pockets of backpacks and in the bottom of my Kenmore washing machine.

I have made some mistakes.

One of the mistakes I have probably (most certainly) made, is allowing Alexis to believe that she is ... an actual P.R.I.N.C.E.S.S!

She came into my room a couple of nights ago and said, in a high pitched voice, "Why do I even have this dress, if I don't ever even get to wear it?"

Um ... where do I start?

This was a dress given to Alexis by a friend of ours. It is a dress that was bought at a garage sale and it is a dress that is really for ... oh ... an Arkansas State Beauty Pageant contestant (*think Miss Congeniality*) back in maybe the 80's and worn by a very tiny southern belle whose expertise in the "Talent" category was - yodeling.

It is not ... a pretty dress.

It is not a dress you would wear to say ... church or to school or to ANYWHERE - really.

But ... my P.R.I.N.C.E.S.S insists that this is one of the most beautiful dresses she has ever seen and believes whole-heartedly that she will ... wear this dress - SOMEWHERE!

I told her to give me the dress.

I would iron it.

Maybe that would help.

On the upside ... I have got to find somewhere for her to wear this Scarlett O'Hara dress. I'll have to cut off the bottom two layers of ruffles (she's only 40" tall for goodness sake), steam the heck out of the taffeta, but ... put it on her and ... she would definitely look like a P.R.I.N.C.E.S.S!

The Princess and my niece come into my bedroom.

I am getting ready to get into the shower.

The Princess asks, "Can you put a movie in for us?" She named the movie, but I couldn't tell you the name of it now ... if you gave me a million dollars.

I said, "I'll do it in a while. Not now. I'm getting into the shower," and I walk into the bathroom.

They turn and leave my room and I hear my niece in the hallway say, "Let's go beg your dad again."

I said, "Yeah - you do that," and laughed until I climbed into the water. Go beg Daddy ... again!

I was betting that they would come back.

They did.

Stood outside of the shower, the both of them, and begged me ... again.

On the upside ... It's just like throwing a football. I throw them out and then they come back. No, wait ... that's a boomerang. Silly me.

(*Note: Crocodile Dundee - boomerangs - down under ... never mind)

random passerby taking photo of Mercedes Fashion Force squad car

Karolina stops twins on the street to ask for a photo

Ornela and Odelia Samuels get snapped

Karolina also chose a 3 month old puppy, Daphne.

Edward Barsanian of the New York Times - T Magazine.

Of this gentleman, Karolina said, "I like his little Russian hat. It's smart and he's staying warm, which is very important. It's different. You know I don't see a lot of men wearing those kinds of hats and he's owning it. I like that"

Tuesday afternoon as part of the Mercedes Benz Fashion Force program, I was offered a car ride with Karolina Kurkova (discovered by Miuccia Prada at age 15 and later a Victoria's Secret Angel). We weren't exactly police men in that black and white car though, more like street style bounty hunters as Karolina kept a keen eye for stylish peeps on the street--from twins, to a T Magazine editor, to a 3 month old puppy....And not only did Karolina act as the street style hunter de jour, but I also got to ask her a few questions while we drove:Craig: When you were a little girl, what did you dream of being when you grew up?

Karolina: I wanted to be a princess. I wanted to have super long hair. When i was a little girl I had short hair. ... I was like a little tomboy. And I'd walk around and put a tiara on and I'd put a duvet [editors note: duvet = bed sheet] on my head like I'd have super long hair to the floor and I'd wear my mom's high heels and walk around.

Craig: If you could wake up anywhere in the world tomorrow, where would it be?

Karolina: Somewhere on the beach. This beautiful beach. Sun is shining...(pause)...sun of the ocean...it could be anywhere. I just love the beach. I love the sunset and watching the ocean and hearing the sound.

Craig: so what are you wearing today?

Karolina: I'm wearing a J. Mendel coat, nice and warm. And then I'm wearing Hervé Léger--let me show you. I'm wearing a dress and over the dress I'm wearing an Hervé Léger skirt. So I'm kind of layering and playing with his clothes to make my own. And make it so I feel comfortable, yet stylish but at the same time comfortable and me. And then I'm wearing Brian Atwood beautiful patent leather shiny boots....

I really wish I could say that my precious Princess got out her box of markers, positioned a nice clean piece of paper in front of her, thought out the exact perfect idea in her little mind and drew this beautiful picture for me, out of the kindness of her heart.

But ... not today.

This was most certainly a "I-need-to-make-mommy-a-really-nice-picture-cuz-she-is-so-mad-at-me" masterpiece. Ohhhhh yes! See all the "Moms" - I count 21.

This is make-up art.

She was on a role today!!!

On the upside ... tomorrow is another day. It is a beautiful picture (it melted my stone-cold heart). And ... through it all (the whining, the crying, the yelling, the screaming, the nasty looks, the mean words, the bold attempts to slam the door, the kicking tantrum on the floor ...) I never ... not even for one single second ... stopped loving her.

I am driving in the car with Alexis on the way to my twins' basketball game.

In the back seat, Alexis is rambling, as she always does, about who knows what (I can't listen to everything she says for goodness sake).

I begin to slow down at the stop light right near the girls' school and there she is in the back seat just talking and talking and talking.

When the car comes to a complete stop and she notices that the light has changed to green, she suddenly says, "Carry on."

I had to look in my rear view mirror to see if she was talking to me - she was - all with her hand up in the air, waving directions - like she was the PRINCESS IN A CARRIAGE or something.

On the upside ... I carried on and kept on driving - because ... that's my job (*sigh*).

My twins are brilliant. I am forever complimenting them on their achievements and constantly bragging on their academic, artistic and athletic accomplishments to others.

This past summer they purchased lots of books and spent endless hours reading. They also, however, spent countless hours watching Will Ferrell videos and memorizing all the lines of these Will Ferrell movies. They would stand in front of me and put on these little skits where they would recite, word for word, from some ridiculous movie or from "The Best of Saturday Night Live - Will Ferrell". I would sit there and watch and listen to my brilliant twins and all I could think was, "Other people's brilliant teenagers spend their time reading and quoting Shakespeare or Freud - but mine, study and quote Will Ferrell." And, while I am impressed with their abilities to recall and recite all this useless dialog ... I don't imagine they will ever be able to use any of this gibberish in their future lives. It is funny though.

We were in the car recently and my children and I had engaged in the conversation, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" When we got around to hearing my son's list, he said, "I want to be a singer. I also want to be a race car driver. Then I want to be a soldier. And, of course, I'm going to be an electrician (like his father)," and then he paused in thought and said, "That way ... I can be in the phone book," and I laughed hysterically. I explained to him that anyone that has a phone is actually in the phone book and he laughed. I also explained that it was true that business owners held a special spot in the phone book and this did imply that you were somewhat successful if you had one of those ads and that that was not at all a ridiculous ambition - however silly it sounded at first.

My brilliant daughter's aspire to be stand-up comedians and my son ... aspires to be in the phone book. I am obviously not doing something right.

On the upside, when I was young, I aspired to be either a Jockey or a Mack truck driver - neither of which came true (fortunately). And ... I still have my little daughter (The Princess) that I can continue to try to mold, influence and manipulate. Maybe there's still hope for me as a mother.

It hit 99 degrees today.

YEP!

It sure gets hot here in TEXAS!

Good thing for us ...

There is water ...

Everywhere!

Alexis taking a break -- you can just swim for so long, you know.

Alexis and her cousin - jumping as high as the sky!

A little sun ...

Good company ...

A good Popsicle ...

THIS IS THE LIFE!

Little Billy trying a new trick .

He missed this time - but he eventually made it.

Yeah Billy!

He's a WILD MAN - having so much fun!

Cousin having a good time too!

The Princess - basking in the sun!

The Queen - basking in the sun!

My mom - she has a pretty hard life - wouldn't you say?

They even stop to eat ... sometimes!

And then ... back to playing once again!

Wouldn't be a complete "On The Upside" day ... if there wasn't a tear or two!

HOPE YOU ALL ARE HAVING A GOOD WEEKEND!!

(Note: Dad, Courtney and Chloe did not come to the lake, as the girls had softball. They will come up next weekend and I'll get pictures of them then).