Back-To-School Shopping Ramble

   It's that time again; time to start getting the kiddo ready for her next school year. Another round of shopping and mayhem. I haven't done the big school clothes shop yet; this year won't be as bad as last year though. She's grown, but we bought a lot of her pants larger than needed, and they fit her now. Undoubtedly, she will need those pants replaced as the year goes by, but I have a little time, thank goodness. I don't have to buy a whole, entirely new wardrobe before school this year. Last year I did, and I was fearing the same for this year.The child that once didn't even reach the tops of my knees is now merely a few meager inches shorter than me. We did do the whole shoe shopping bit, and to my shock, my daughter is now, at age 12, wearing the same size shoes that I am. How big is this child going to get? That's what I wanna know.
  This year will mark the first year that my daughter does not want Tinkerbell plastered on her backpack. For the longest time, my daughter was obsessed with Tinkerbell. She had Tinkerbell toys and Tinkerbell games, Tinkerbell shirts and Tinkerbell movies, Tinkerbell blankets, Tinkerbell posters, Tinkerbell books... I'm sure you get the picture - even when I shut my eyes, I was seeing Tinkerbell plastered on the back of my eyelids.
   These days, my daughter is more into Fairytale and Sword Art Online. That is good by me - I can get into some anime. Of course, that means that she wants anime plastered all over the stuff that she gets for school. Grandma bought the lucky dog a Sword Art Online backpack, and thanks some help from the anime store at the mall and Amazon, she was able to score a few anime T-shirts for back-to-school. But anime themed stuff - that, my friends, is expensive.
   Just in case you are wondering, those of you with small kids or even thinking of having kids, they don't get cheaper as they get older. Sure, you don't pay for diapers, and eventually, daycare, but little girls - not as expensive as big girls, in my own personal opinion. Okay, I could save money by going thrift-store shopping. I do by her new stuff, and I know that this is the pricey way to go, but all her clothes gets handed down to my little niece, so I feel like I am getting good value for what I buy. But you have to look at all the other things that a growing girl needs. They don't get less expensive when you are looking at bras and shoes and school fees (even for public schools, good grief), and a long list of things that no one really wants to read about. I'm not really looking forward to my daughter dragging me around the mall, going from one brightly colored, designed-to-make-your-eyes-bleed garment to the next, all the while complaining about how she's not goth like me (I'm not goth at all, by the way, I just prefer to wear the color black) while she searches for the perfect neon yellow shirt and fire engine red pants. Who taught this child how to dress??? Kids rebel in the strangest ways... Well, school clothes shopping is a few weeks away, so I have a little time to mentally prepare myself for the chore. I like to wait as long as possible, because I'm sure that this kid is drinking Miracle Grow on the sly, and I'm worried about growth spurts. Also, I'm dragging my mom along because misery loves company, so I have to wait for a good day for her as well. After raising two girls of her own, I'm sure she's used to head-scratching, you-want-to-actually-wear-that??? moments herself, so she's good to have along, although, sometimes, she does tend to enjoy feeding my daughter's bizarre fashion choices... Yeah, I see what you are doing there mother, but you're still drafted, regardless. 

Haha! I Win; A Zombie-Fanatic Is Born

   I've been attempting to convince my daughter that the love of all things zombie is only natural. For a long time this was a downhill battle. She just wasn't interested. She wasn't interested in Resident Evil, she wasn't interested in any of the old zombie movie classics, she didn't care about the Walking Dead (and still doesn't, what the hell?)
   But I wore her down, and finally, I was able to convince her to read this book called The Forest of Hands and Teeth, by Carrie Ryan. Now, this book was enough to convince her that she might actually like some of the zombie stuff that her mom was trying to force down her throat. This book didn't turn her into a full blown zombie-lover, but this book did open the door. And yeah, it's in the young adult section, but this isn't some love story that makes zombies seem sexy. Zombies were the undead, and they did eat people and infect the masses.
   Then I found this wonderful book that I really got into. I loved this book. I bet many of you can guess the name, but for those of you ignorant in all things zombie, the book was called World War Z, by Max Brooks. I couldn't put this book down, despite the fact that I don't think that this book is the easiest book to read. You don't follow a main character; this book takes the form of a multitude of interviews, never with the same person, and through these interviews, you see how the shape of the zombie war unfolded. As soon as you get into one person's story, that story ends and you move on to the next person. This book should have been annoying as hell to read, but it wasn't, and I read the damn thing in one night.
    My daughter has made the comment to me that I always chose the best books for her to read; a fact that does make me pretty happy. I like being able to provide people with suggestions of good reading material, and I am always really glad when they like a suggestion. Yay! I don't know why I like this; I just do. We all have our little quirks. And I guess my daughter decided that since I had always given her good books to read, that she wanted to read the book that I got so into that I spent a whole night reading the book. So she read the book, and she liked it! I was surprised, because I actually do think that this book has the potential to be hard to follow, and though my daughter reads on a high level, according to school testing, I didn't know how she would like or be able to follow this book. But she read the book, she was able to follow the story line, and best of all, she really liked it.
   She liked the book so much, that when they came out with the movie, she begged to be able to go see it. Now, I know that this movie was rated PG-13, but I carefully read the previews, and I had decided that if the movie just got too graphic for her, that  I would be prepared to usher her out of the theater. She really wanted to see the movie, and after letting her read the book, it seemed asinine to refuse to let her watch the movie. But not only did I worry about the violence, I also worried about the quality of the story. Obviously, this movie was going to follow Brad Pitt's character throughout the whole of the movie, and I worried that they were going to take this really good zombie story and turn it into a Brad Pitt flick. But we went to see the movie on the 4th of July, and I thought the movie was really good, and I also thought that the story could have fit right into the book. The book is basically a collection of survival stories from different people, and not the whole of the stories, just the critical moments. This movie followed that structure, in my own opinion. This was the key part of this man's survival of the zombie war, and when his part was over, the story ended. I've heard complaints over the abrupt ending, but the book is full of abrupt endings. I liked the movie, and so did my daughter!
   Woo-hoo! The first zombie movie that my daughter has liked. Also, the first zombie movie that my daughter has ever really watched, due to lack of interest. But she liked this one, and if they make another, she has already informed me that she wants to go see that one too. This, I tell myself, is the birth of a zombie fanatic.

   (Side note: I also got my mom to go see the movie. Which was a mind-blowing achievement for two reasons: she doesn't like anything scary or gory, and she hates Brad Pitt almost as much as she hates Tom Cruise. I now consider myself a master-manipulator. Mwahahahahahahaha!)

Little Talks

   My daughter says some crazy things, and she always has. In order to capture the zany attitude that my daughter possesses, I have kept record of some of the conversations that I have had with her. And of course, now I am going to share them with you.
Butt Cracks
   This first one happened before she was even in school; while I was on the phone with my sister before she moved to Washington and still lived in Kansas, and I noticed that my daughter's pants had fallen down.
   Me: "Honey, pull up your pants; your butt crack is showing."
   My daughter, extremely offended, "My butt is NOT cracking!!!"
   And my sister heard her response and still gets a chuckle off of the memory.
Babies And Where They Come From
   This one happened in Kindergarten in the line waiting for school to start.
    My daughter to her friend, "My Auntie told me where babies come from!"
    A bunch of excited ass kids start listening avidly like she has discovered the secret of Santa Claus, and my daughter continues, "People have babies the same way chickens do!!!"
    My daughter's confused friend, "But how do chickens have babies?"
    My daughter, "I don't know but I'm gonna find out! They have animal books in the library."
    Another kid, "We can watch Animal Planet!"
   Me to the other parents who are now giving me the stink eye, "I had nothing to do with this, I swear."
   Later, after school and after I explain that human babies and chicken babies really have nothing in common, she asks me again where babies come from. "You don't really want to know, honey," I say.
   "Yes I do, and I'm never gonna stop asking until you tell me!" she exclaims.
    "Okay, but I warned you. Babies are made when a momma sleeps with a daddy-"
    "Stop! Stop!" screams my daughter, "You're disgusting! Don't talk to me anymore!"
    "You asked."
    "Nope. Don't talk to me."

I'm not eating whatever that thing is, especially if it's soupy. YUCK

What The Heck Are You Asking Me To Eat?
   My daughter after school, more recently, probably about a few months ago.
   "Mom, we need to have soupy-chicken-fish for dinner."
   "What the hell is that, and whatever it is, I'm not eating that."
   My daughter, giggling, "But Mom, I want spoupy-chicken fish."
   "No. How about chicken?"
    "Is it soupy?"
    "That is disgusting."
Death By A Zombie-Spider-Octopus-Eagle-Dragon-Scorpion-Lobster-Acorn
    "I made up a new monster in school today!" my daughter tells me as I pick her up and hands me a picture of some freaky thing that she imagined. "It's a zombie-spider-octopus-eagle-dragon-scorpion-lobster-acorn."

Better than a normal zombie. 

   "Say that again."
   "And you want to be killed by it instead of a regular old zombie."
   "Um, no. Say that name again though. Really fast."
   "Yes you do. Why would you want to meet a regular old zombie when you could meet this."
   "I'll pass. Say that name again."
   "You love zombies though. You want to be eaten by mine," my daughter says between giggles.
   "No. Say the name again."
    "I can't. I can't remember what was in it. I'll write it down when I get home and can look at it."

    

Warning: Angry Barracudas

   My daughter has reached that age: the age where she wants some alone time, she needs some privacy, and hugging Mom in public is not that cool anymore. This time is a somewhat sad time for me because I have to let go a little, and I don't like letting go. She isn't quite as bad as a full-blast hormonal PMSing teenage girl, but I know that this time is coming. I've heard all the horror stories, I remember my own teenage angst, and I am as braced as I can be.

A bedecked door. Do Not Enter.

  Of course, there is some relief that she is not as bad as I was. I can say this with some authority, because I was already a known troublemaker at the tender age of 11, and my daughter is not. I was also not the popular girl; I had a few friends, and my bestie, whom I equate to sister in my head. My daughter is doing better in the friend department, which I hope means more support for when she does slide down that estrogen induced mania of teenage girl drama. This could also mean more peer pressure, but I have to be somewhat optimistic here.
   One thing that I can be sure of is that my daughter will do her teenage years unlike anyone else. She already has some claim to unusual behavior, and her latest venture into weirdness is how she goes about claiming her private space. She has recently acquired the desire for some privacy. Before, she would follow me around like a lost little puppy, but now she locks herself into her room, occasionally popping out to mess with my head by telling something insanely weird, but mostly arranging her stuff and guarding her property. Like a dragon guarding it's hoard.
   In an attempt to give everybody a fair warning, she's plastered her door with warning signs. Do Not Enter. Angry Barracudas. Wait, angry what? Where the heck did she get barracudas from? Ask her and she just covers her mouth and giggles. She's also posted warning signs stating that her room is 'Home of the Blob.' What the heck is the blob? Ask, same giggle. I don't trust that giggle.
   You know what this means, right, kiddo? Mom isn't gonna be cleaning your room up. Since her room isn't under the water, I am fairly certain that I will be safe from angry barracudas, but what the heck is the blob? Repeating myself, I know, but this sign was posted to mess with my head. My daughter knows me well.

Beware the fish???

   All jokes aside, all kids need a little privacy. Don't get me wrong, if I even suspect something's amuck, I'll be nosing in to make sure the is nothing fishy (<--haha--) going on, but we all need some me time. Especially in my little estrogen shack. Girls need space from other girls; cat fights are ugly. Having no comparison, I don't know if boys are the same, yet I imagine that they need some space too. But sometimes moms just have a hard time letting go. So to all momma birds who are having to take a step back so that little birds can spread their little wings: you are not alone. I share your pain. The plus side is that one day, we will get to see those little birds fly. 

What Being A Mom Has Taught Me.... So Far

   Being a mom is a job, being a mom is a choice, and being a mom is something that you work at every single day. Like any important role in life, being a mom is something you learn from, something that changes you, hopefully for the better. Being a mom is a work in progress; you don't have to be perfect, but you do have to be willing to learn and willing to put in the time, tears, joy, and effort.
   My child is not grown, and even when she is grown, I suspect I will always be learning from her and helping her to grow. All I need to do is look at my own mom, who took me back in when I had nowhere else to go and was at one of the darkest points in my life. So I imagine, no - I know- that this list is not complete. There will be things that are missing, because my daughter is only 10 going on 11. I am far from done. But I do feel that I can put out this list, because being a mom has taught me some of the most important lessons of life that I have learned thus far. So here is the list of things that being a mom has taught me, and remember, I don't put things in order, ever:

1. Nothing is better than spending a Saturday with your child doing things that people say will rot your brain (i.e. watching too much TV and gamer marathons) 
2. There is never going to be enough money so learn to make things last, make things stretch, and get creative. 
3. If you don't put your child first, they are not going to put you first either. This includes putting your child over jobs, school, and other people.
4. Read a lot, and make books available to your child, because reading is really important, especially once they start school.
5. Find the people who will be there for you through thick and thin, because you are going to need them. 
6. Don't forget to be the person who is there for someone else through thick and thin. Make sure your child is one of those people you will always be there for.
7. Kids' cartoons today suck so make sure you buy them some Looney Tunes and Animaniacs on DVD (or Blu-ray). 
8. A happy home trumps a clean house -- don't stress over the toys on the floor, the dishes in the sink,  that pile of dirty clothes, and that layer of dust. Just don't let things get moldy.
9. Teach your kids manners and how to behave because no one is going to like your kid if they are rude-ass little shits who are climbing up the walls and beating up all the other kids. 
10. Let your child be different than you - they are not carbon copies. 
11. Keep an open mind and an open heart. 
12. You aren't going to like all of their friends. If the friends aren't taking your kids down the path of drug abuse and other bad stuff, just keep your mouth shut. Do you really think it's likely that your kid likes all of your friends?
13. Listen to the things you kids have to say. 
14. Work hard, but play often.
15. Pay attention.
16. There is not enough sleep in the world and coffee is a necessity. 
17. Make sure your child always knows that they can come talk to you about anything, and that you will believe them and be on their side if someone is being mean to them and/or hurting them. 
18. Be a tiger when it comes to protecting your child.
19. People are going to judge. Learn not to care. 
20. Try to be the best person you can. Yes, you will mess up, but deal with your messes and be someone that you want your child to be, because they are always watching their Momma.

No Normal People Here

   You never think that your kid is really listening to a word that you say. At least, I don't. Asking a kid to pick up can sometimes take five requests before they stomp off in anger exclaiming, "You make me do everything!" Yeah right. Get a job, pay the bills, and then come talk to me about who does everything. But I digress. Those moments with my daughter don't happen often, because she's a good kid, and also, she knows better. But still, you wonder how much they actually listen.
   Well, I found out, they listen, but what they listen to is the weirdest, most random shit that comes out of your mouth when you think nobody is listening, and they take that randomness, and they turn it into their motto, their goal, the ultimate truth.
   I discovered this one day in what I thought was going to be a normal (haha, normal) conversation with my daughter. "Momma, am I weird?" she asks.
   And my momma radar starts flashing and here I am wondering if she's getting picked on at school or something, so I reply, "No. You're not weird; you're normal."
   And you would have thought that I said she was ugly, smelled funny, and had a pizza face and crappy hair. I halfway expected her to breath fire at me, that's how mad she was.
   Stomping her feet at me, "I AM NOT NORMAL!! HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT! I'M WEIRD; I AM NOT NORMAL!"
   Calming her down took me forever, because while at one time she wasn't very good at throwing fits, a certain person (Grandma!!! Traitor!) took one look at her attempted fit and told her she needed to practice. So my daughter did, because she is a perfectionist (she didn't get that from me) and she wanted to throw excellent fits, so now she does. And while I was trying to calm the raging beast that was my daughter, I flashed back to certain conversations, ones where people were telling me that I needed to do this, or I needed to that, or that my way wasn't normal. And what was my response? "Normal people suck." And who is always right there with me, because I have helicopter mom tendencies? Yup, the munchkin; and she took the fact that her momma said that normal people suck as gospel. Normal? Don't you dare call her that.
   Don't worry, daughter. No one who puts their earphones up their nose, plugs their ears up and then opens up their mouth to see if the music will come out of their mouth is normal.
   Normal people? Not in this apartment. 

Where Is All This Stuff Coming From?

   So I've been packing, and packing, and packing some more. My daughter has also been packing, and is actually managing to be a great help. When she first asked, I let her but envisioned my needing to secretly repack every box because I didn't want a bunch of haphazardly thrown together boxes. She's really much more organized than myself, something that I should have remembered.

We've been busy girls, and we're running out of boxes!!!

   Yet in spite of all of this packing, we still have not managed to get all this junk in boxes. And I keep getting surprised by the things that I am finding. I have stuff stashed in the dark recesses of my closet that I don't remember ever seeing, much less buying. Where is all this crap coming from? And books. I know that I love books (BOOKS!!!) I am a book freak, and bookwyrm, and book stalker, certifiably obsessed with them. I have a Kindle, a Nook, and then there are the books that I just have to own, in hardcover, please. I need to see them on shelves, or I feel like something is missing in my little bookwrym of a soul. (Can you say biggest NERD ever?) And my daughter is the same way. So I expected a lot of boxes filled with books, but the problem is that I am packing and packing and packing them, and I still haven't found the end of them. I am finding them in closets, in dresser drawers, in the bathroom,  and under the bed; you name it, and I have books in it. It's that bad. And I swear, I think that they are breeding. That is the only explanation that makes sense, because why am I not able to find an end to them? They are never-ending!!! All I can say is they need to stop, books aren't supposed to breed.
   Another item that breeds? Chargers. I have charges that I don't even know what goes with them. And I'm terrified to get rid of them, because what if I need them? What if I find what the mystery charger belongs to? But where are they all coming from? And why, when you put one charger in a drawer, shut that drawer and walk away for a while, and then come back later -- why are they five more chargers in the drawer?! Someone explain this mystery to me? How can a charger breed when it is alone? I don't understand.
   But moving day is tomorrow, so I have to find an end to all these books and chargers tonight. 

The Awesome Box

   I've been packing in hopes that my application to move into an apartment will be approved. Packing for me is a way of positive thinking. And really, the only reason they could disapprove my application is credit. Mine is bad, but that is a song that probably every single parent could sing. It's hard when you only have one income; this is a two income world. And my credit isn't too bad; it's all hospital bills and student loans. The student loans are even all in good standing, but they make my debt-to-credit ratio high. I am a worry-wart, so as a way of keeping positive, I am packing. And I am packing things that I use practically every day -- the power of positive action.
   One of the things that  I am packing is my gaming equipment. I am a gamer; I don't know if you would call me hard core -- I take bathroom breaks and eat and sleep and go to work. I don't ignore my family over a game either. I'll never understand why some people do that. Games do not trump human contact. And I am never going to be the smuck who died because they gamed for 72 hours straight with no breaks. I mean, since giving birth I need to pee every two hours, and I need to eat. I am NOT going without food. But I do usually game daily, even if only for 30 minutes. And I've packed all of my gaming stuff. What am I going to do with myself until I move??!!
   As we have been packing, my daughter and I have been painstakingly labeling each and every box. We don't want to get into our new apartment and not know what is packed in each box. There are things that we are going to need right away, and there are things that can wait a little. Gaming stuff cannot wait. In reference to this, and in acknowledgement of the value of the items in the box, I have labeled my gaming boxes Awesome Boxes. Well, my daughter thought they needed to be labeled better than that. I don't see why, I think Awesome Box explains it all. If you have a box labeled kitchen supplies, and a box labeled awesome box, which one are you going to open first? If you answer kitchen supplies, my next question is-- How often do you lie and has this been a problem for very long? Of course you are going to open the awesome box, and what could be in an awesome box that was better than games, consoles, and equipment?

One of our labeled Awesome Boxes. 

   But my daughter took my sharpie from me and painstakingly made a list of what was in each awesome box. I have talked about our differences before, and this is one of them; my daughter is a little more orderly than I am; I tend to be chaotic. I suppose that this labeling is better, in the long run. Now I know what box has my PSP, and what box has the Wii. But they were all going to be opened on the first night of our arrival, regardless. The awesome boxes rule!

To My Daughter: Words for the New Year

I believe that if you're old enough to ask;

Then you are old enough for an answer.

So I promise always to answer your questions;

Even if the answers scare me. 

I believe in the power of critical thinking,

And the power of knowledge;

So I promise to arm you with information.

I also believe that some things are beyond science,

So I promise to teach you about the need to have an open-mind,

So that you can understand some things are real even if your senses can't prove their existence;
And that you believe in them because you have faith.

I promise to accept that you are different then myself;

And so I will never stand in your way or hold you back;

But I will help you to build your life's foundation,

So that you can weather every storm that touches your life and still stand strong. 

I believe in discipline,

So I will punish you when necessary in order to teach you right from wrong;

So that you can develop morals,

And learn that there are consequences for every action. 

I also believe in praise, 

So I promise to let you know when I am proud of you,

When you have done something smart or kind or good,

So that you know that good behavior has rewards.

I believe in respecting others and their beliefs,

So I promise to teach you the value of respecting others,

And to instill in you the belief that every person matters,

Even if they are different from you.

I promise that we will both make mistakes, 

And when you make a mistake I will stand beside you,

And help you make it right again;

And when I make a mistake I promise that I will admit to them;

Apologize and make them right,

So that you can learn that nobody is perfect,

But that this is okay so long as you keep learning and growing as a person.

I promise that there will be times when I am unbelievably mad at you;

But I also promise that I will never love you less, no matter what. 

I promise that there are times that I will be incredibly proud of you,

And when the time comes that you need to take your own path,

I will let you go.

But I also promise that my path will always run alongside yours,

And that they will intersect again and again;

And that I will always be there when you need me.  

I believe that because my actions gave you your life,

That my responsibility is to love, guide, and teach you;

So that one day you will be a better person than myself,

And I believe that my job doesn't stop just because you've reached a certain age;

You will always be my daughter at every age, even when you are old and grey. 

And I accept that responsibility and promise that every action that I take

Is with this responsibility in my mind and love in my heart.

Butterflies Verses Zombies

  As every parent knows, often, your child will develop a personality that is not at all what you would have expected from someone formed with your DNA. I mean, we all have plans and expectations of what our child will be like. And I got a great child. We have many similarities, such as our avid love of reading. We devour words with our eyes the way a starving man eats. We are both serious gamers and love to travel. We have other similar traits as well, but for the most part,she is stunningly, refreshingly different from me. She loves school, and I was the truancy queen. She likes the color pink, and I prefer black. Her clothes are glittery, gem-encrusted ensembles and mine are usually black. She wears sparkly sneakers and colorful boots and I detest socks, so wear flip-flops until they are impossible. She likes to do things now, early even, and I am the Master of Procrastination. She is outgoing and likes people and I am an antisocial introvert, and so-on and so-on These are differences that I can accept. I enjoy and value these differences. But there is one difference that I am committed to change. She must come to my viewpoint in the matter! I am determined. And what is this difference, you may ask? Well, let me tell you:

   SHE PREFERS BUTTERFLIES OVER ZOMBIES.

   

How is this better than a zombie?

   Whaaaaaaaaaaat???!!! How can that be? That's not right. Zombies are awesome. Zombies inspire such characters like Jill Valentine and Daryl Dixon. Butterflies, not so much. I mean, I understand that they are pretty, and the pollinate flowers and make things grow, but are they rotten, animated corpses? I don't think so. Do they eat human flesh and infect the masses? That's a negatory. How are butterflies more awesome than zombies? This assumption boggles the mind and just is not rational. Zombies inspire long, intense chats with your sister about how we are going to survive the zombie apocalypse, and what we need to have in order to protect the family and how we need to fortify the house. Does anybody worry about the butterfly apocalypse? No, because that sounds dumb. Oh gosh, the butterflies are going to pollinate me! Please. Butterflies are not bad ass. They just have pretty wings. How can that compare to decaying, flesh eating corpses? Really, daughter? But everything is A-okay. I am patient, and one day, you will come to the dark side.

We Aren't Morning People

    My daughter and I have an extremely important routine that we follow almost every morning, especially those mornings when school and work means that we will wake to one of the most obnoxious sounds in the entire world: the alarm clock. If you are anything like me, that sound fills your very soul with dread. The end of sleep; the beginning of responsibility, obligations, and (gasp) daylight. Awful stuff. Our routine consists of 3 steps.
    Step 1: Every morning we start out by whining at each other. This whining does not consist of words but of a sort of 'uuuuuuuuaaaaann' sound that we alternate making towards each other. At this point, this sound is the only sound that we are really mentally capable of making; words are beyond us. Sometimes, towards the end of this step we will whine simultaneously to see who can whine the loudest. Winning the loudest whiner contest can put the loudest whiner in a good mood. 
    Step 2: This step has 3 options, which vary depending on mood.
       2a. If we are both in bad moods: We alternate snapping 'no' at each other for no real reason except to say no. We say no loudly and emphatically, just to be sure that the other one knows that we really mean it. Since both my daughter and I dearly love to say no, for any reason whatsoever, sometimes this part of the routine can turn our bad mood into a good mood. 
      2b: If one of us  is in a good mood but the other isn't: The one in a good mood will break into song. The song has either has no real words or the words make absolutely no sense. The person in a bad mood will order the singer to 'Shut up and stop making that racket,'  or some variation thereof. Everyone should keep in mind, good mood or not, this is still early in our routine and while at this point we may be able to form words, we are not able to string them together into logical sentences that anyone will understand. We are unable of communication at this time, even if we do seem to be communicating with each other on some level.  To be blunt, if I did not grow you in my womb, I am unable to communicate with you until about an hour after waking. The kiddo is a little more capable of communication at this point than I am, but not by much, and she mumbles, so good luck with that. 
     2c. On the rare occasion that we are both in a good mood: usually I will sing some stupid song that makes no sense while the kiddo laughs hysterically and suggests words when I get stuck. Again, these songs never make any sense, and neither one of us has what could be called a 'singing voice.' Frankly, I can make your ears bleed. After the song has ended, we may start snapping 'no' at each other, despite being in a good mood, because we just love to say no. In this case, however, we will not use a grumpy, emphatic no but a playful, snappish no accented with giggles. 

   Step 3.  My daughter will then go eat breakfast while I search for some sort of caffeine (anything will do) and sit in front of the computer until she needs me to fix her hair, which then proceeds to look like no one has even brushed it 5 minutes after I have fixed it. This is because she rolls all over the couch and rubs the back of her head on everything, making for extreme static. This never fails and there is no use fighting the process. She is gonna have that hair looking like bed hair no matter what I do.

   After this step we are safe to approach. However, it should be noted that this daily routine  is important to us and should never be interrupted by someone trying to converse with us. This could lead to injury, permanent disability, or even death by smart-ass sarcasm so extreme that the system goes into shock and tries to shut down in a type of 'you can't see me' line of defense. And while my daughter is not quite as smart-assy as me, she does have this glare-of-death. Not recommended.