tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78314258819354638272012-02-16T19:58:56.409-07:00Heathernoreply@blogger.comBlogger31100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831425881935463827.post-66036268617642379452009-10-28T08:57:00.003-06:002009-10-28T10:41:29.899-06:00What does the oven, a pizza stone, and a dog have in common?<br />My daughters...<br /><br />The "oven incident of 2009" began with Cammy (the 12 year old) wanting to borrow Kayla's (the 14 year old) clothing. Kayla told Cammy that she didn't want her clothing to get all stretched out (such a teenager thing to say), so borrowing a shirt was out of the question.<br />Seriously?<br /><br />Cammy decided that she would get back at Kayla by putting her most prize possession in the oven. Yep, this makes sense.<br /><br />So, the poor victim, Maggie (the dog), was on her way into the oven when Kayla came to "save the dog". A wrestling match between the two girls commenced in front of the oven. In all the excitement a candle fell from above the oven and landed on a very old, very seasoned pizza stone, breaking it into several pieces.<br /><br />I arrived on the scene and to my surprise was informed that the whole thing was my fault. Yes, that's right... MY fault. Of course.<br /><br />If I were to buy Cammy more clothes, she wouldn't have to borrow Kayla's things, the dog wouldn't currently be in therapy and I'd still have a pizza stone.<br />hmmm... makes sense.<br /><br />ps... I am also responsible for breaking the pizza stone because I'm the one that placed the candle above the oven. uh huh...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7831425881935463827-6603626861764237945?l=adayinthelifeofdrama.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Heathernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831425881935463827.post-46410951360078304392009-10-15T11:30:00.004-06:002009-10-15T13:12:07.037-06:00<span style="font-size:180%;">"Cow Eyes"</span><br /><br />Not exactly sure why, but this is incredibly offensive to a 7 year old.<br />Fits of bawling, pouting and a stream of insults (as insulting as a 7 year old can be) will follow.<br /><br />12 year old shall be punished appropriately... as soon as I figure out what kind of punishment should follow such an insult.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7831425881935463827-4641095136007830439?l=adayinthelifeofdrama.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Heathernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831425881935463827.post-16977942898268594652009-10-15T10:30:00.001-06:002009-10-15T11:38:23.753-06:00<div align="justify">I'm a mom. I LOVE being a mom. </div><div align="justify">I have 3 daughters... 14, 12 and 7.</div><div align="justify">I never knew how much drama was involved in raising girls...</div><div align="justify">They really should come with instructions. Why are there no instructions?</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The drama isn't all bad. In fact the everyday drama is what makes life a treasure.</div><div align="justify">And as I'm finding out, they grow up so fast... too fast.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Drama is what makes me smile during those peaceful moments.</div><div align="justify">Drama is what keeps me grateful.</div><div align="justify">Drama makes me (and them) laugh, cry then laugh again.</div><div align="justify">Drama is what makes me fall in love with them over and over again every day...</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">So, here's to the daily drama that makes raising daughters such a joy.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7831425881935463827-1697794289826859465?l=adayinthelifeofdrama.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Heathernoreply@blogger.com