A day in the life of Princess von Wrecking House

My two little girls just say and do the darndest things. Princess Sassy Fras, is my 5-year old who sasses me even when she wakes up in the middle of the night and is half asleep. I swear she's going to start her period next week.  Princess von Wrecking House is the 2-year old sidekick to Princess Sassy F.  Princess von WH has got to be the slickest thing since Houdini. Give her a rubber ball and a spoon and she'll find a way to create a disaster zone so messy you'd think cars had collided. They are both the sweetest children with kind hearts, bright minds, and are filled to the brim with spunk. I like it that way. Here's to hoping (and praying) their strong-willed personalities keep them from succumbing to peer pressure in their adolescent years. I know their hearts will be broken like everyone's, but I'm pretty sure nobody will walk over Princess Sassy F or Princess von WH. Ain't nobody putting my babies in a corner!

So, here's a funny story to introduce you to one of my two two pint-sized cohorts- Princess von WH. Recently as I was multi-tasking (the definition has changed so much from career days to mommyhood and is a-whole-nother post in itself).  This particular day I was preparing dinner and talking to a girlfriend on the phone. This friend lives just down the street and in the end it would have been better to walk down the block to carry on our conversation than the afternoon-altering disaster that ensued.

I noticed Princess von WH putting a DVD into the player. She's two. She doesn't know how to work the technology in my house (or so I thought). I walked over to help her and remind her that DVDs are for mommies and daddies to handle.  Four DVDs have white, oily fingerprints smeared along the edges.  She has gotten into a once full tube of Desitin.  Wonderful.   

How she reaches these things is beyond me, but her friend, Mr. Stool, undoubtedly helps her every time. Put the stool away you say? I've tried. Princess Sassy F needs it from time to time, gets him out, and forgets to put it back in the closet.

In addition to the Desitin, she has swiped a few wipes, and a diaper. She found her favorite baby, placed her on the coffee table, and smeared Desitin on her from her boobies to her toesies- putting the majority on her girl parts (at least she knows where the Desitin belongs). My guess is she had so much fun diapering that she then just made it a Desitin smearing assignment all over the coffee table, on her arms, and face.

It may have well as been finger paint to her. She looked like an Indian ready for battle with the war paint on her face. She was so proud to show me how well she'd pampered her baby.

My guess is it took her all of two minutes to create a mess that took me hours to clean. Our living room smelled like a diaper rash for days. Good times...

The Party Game

Since I currently don't have a "real" job (that would be one that doesn't involve my own children and pays money), I sometimes pretend I'm a party planner.  It's not too far off base.  I can remember as college graduation neared, my friends and I discussed plans for our future.  Some were flying to Chicago and Manhattan for corporate PR job interviews.  Some would go on to pursue Masters and Doctorate degrees in Advertising/PR.  Some had already decided to go back to school for something completely different- architecture and interior design.  Me?  I said that I would work for myself planning events. Secretly, I've always wanted to own a salon, too.  I know, it's completely random.

Often, when I'm driving down the street and my kids are watching Madagascar or Finding Nemo for the 4,567th time, I play a game with myself about party planning. I come up with a random theme and challenge myself to pair it with just the right fabrics, paper, food, and decor to make it exquisite. I give myself extra points if the party comes together on a shoe string budget. My favorites are the ones that look like a million bucks with dollar store finds (even if the parties only exist in my mind). My client would be tickled at the bargains I find for her!  I combine old with some new, country with tres sophisticate, vintage with some modern. I'm so tickled with my end results. In my mind, all the guests are happy, too.

I also love to dream up reasons for parties.  There's the wife and children who want to welcome home their Dad/husband who will return from time overseas after a tour of duty. There's the daughter who wants to celebrate her mother's 50 birthday with a "Pink Poodle Party."  There's a treasure hunt for Kindergarteners in the park in the fall for no reason at all other than to have a good time with their new classmates. 

I recently began assisting a party planner friend at weddings. This is a whole new kind of party planning experience for me.  I put on my pumps and work my tail off and have THE best time doing it! I feel like Cinderella at the ball- ahhhhh- my own little fairytale. I love to hear the stories about the couples- where they're from and how they met. I wait in eager anticipation to see the dresses and the flowers, taste the food, feel the emotion, judge the cake, and care for the bride. I haven't experienced a difficult bride yet- stay tuned- my opinion could change.

Then there's the cake. Ahhh, the cake. I love cake more than Buddy (Mr. Fabulous Fat Fanny) loves football, more than pigs love mud, and more than women love shoes. My favorite part of any celebration is the cake. I love to look at it, cut it, serve it, eat it, critique it, and make it. I love cake.

During my career in advertising/PR, I had many chances to plan corporate parties, grand opening galas, and community-related events.  Oh sure, that was fun, but nothing like parties that include human emotion.  Sharing a bride's last few minutes before she and her father walk down the aisle is incredible.

Who knows? Maybe I knew myself better in college than I thought I did.  Maybe, just maybe, this Fabulous Fat Fanny could have a career in baking or party-planning.