Emily lost a tooth today that wasn’t loose. the tooth that has been loose for almost a year, the one that has the adult tooth grown in UNDERNEATH it (think: my daughter = shark), the one she talks about non-frigging-stop, however, is still in. not coming out. ever. TYPICAL Emily.

(she also gives good crazy eye. which i prefer to her usual eye of choice, the stink eye)

She did write a lovely letter to the tooth fairy with a little questionnaire attached, asking such personal questions as: Are you a boy or a girl? or both? (BOTH?!?)

(she also asked for $100. she got $5) ($5! i know)

Emily muttered something in Chinese. i think. it sounded Chinese, at least. when i said, “what the heck does that mean?” Josh said, “oh, Zachary says that means ‘what the fuck'” TYPICAL Josh. (it was actually ‘happy new year’ in Chinese. it was Chinese! i was right! oh, wait, my son said the f-word) (only he had NO idea it was the f-word)
Tonight Isabella went tumbling down the stairs. from top to bottom. boom buh buh buh boom. after a brief cry she tried to convince me that her fall had actually broken the third step from the bottom and while i was still having a heart attack, she ran off to go chase the dog around the house. it’s like i have two puppies.  TYPICAL Isabella.

The husband downloaded a movie for us to watch together. nice. only when we sat down to actually watch the movie we saw a naked Philip Seymour Hoffman pounding a naked Marisa Tomei. vomit. TYPICAL husband. he’s very into Marisa Tomei right now, thanks to a nudie pole scene in The Wrestler. not even an only semi-greasy Ethan Hawke could make me want to keep watching…so off to a gchat party I went where i may or may not have written ” I CAN HAZ TEH LOOPZ” and then may or may not have cried from laughing so hard at, well, myself. TYPICAL ali. and then i fucking lost my shit when Bob the trainer cried on The Biggest Loser. and then i realized that he is a trainer and needs to stop the waterworks and go and peddle some ziploc bags and, um, i don’t know, TRAIN??! (and then my husband told me i use the F-word too much) (and then i told myself i use parentheticals altogether too much)