Like a hole in the head

I have never really liked the phrase. You know, "I need a (insert something here) like I need a hole in my head." It always makes me laugh because of something that someone said this one time at Band Camp (yes, I really went to band camp, AND I tell band camp stories AND I did all of this before American Pie even came out, thank you very much). Our very diminutive band director sat down with the Flag Corps and cracked open a cold diet coke and said, "I know, I know. I need a Diet Coke like I need a hole in my head." Does that ever happen to you? Someone says something at a seemingly insignificant moment, and you remember it forever. Something that is not even that meaningful. And then someone tells you something really poignant and then you cannot remember it for the life of you. I guess that is one of those things about life, huh?

Anywho. I have always liked Barbie. And you? I had this friend in elementary school. Her name was Tracey. And the entire basement of her house was like a Barbie Fairy Tale Land. I am not kidding. It was a finished basement and there was nothing in it except her Barbie Stuff. No furniture. Just Barbie. She had it all. Dream houses, Corvettes, shoes for every outfit, oh, and she even had those teeny pink hangers to hang the clothes on. And she actually hung all the clothes up on the teeny pink hangers. It was like little girl heaven! So the fact that Jessa enjoys Barbies is not all that surprising. She even had a Barbie birthday party once. The cake was an actual Barbie. Oh, wow, I wish she could have seen Tracey's basement. Jessa would love it.

Another thing you need to know is that I have a family member who does not think that it is OK to let little girls strip Barbies naked and put them in the bathtub. This poor soul only had boys, so it is hard for this person to really even imagine a little girl playing with dolls, you know? Well, lucky for Jessa, I have no such hang-ups about naked Barbies being all over the house. And for some reason, these naked gals seem to congregate in MY bathtub. And it is a running joke throughout my family about the person I am talking about who does not approve of naked Barbies.

So the other night, Jessa and Spencer were enjoying a lovely bath. There is always a great deal of laughing, giggling, and playing in the tub. I was in and out of the bathroom, putting away laundry in my room and tidying up the bathroom.

One time I walked back into the bathroom and I found this:

Wanna see it from another angle?

Well, OK.
Here it is. And I could not even get them all in one picture!

The line was too long.

My first thought was that a scene like this would absolutely send a certain family member of mine right over the edge.

My second thought was that Jessa Lynn needs a new Barbie like, you guessed it, a hole in the head!

I e-mailed the picture to May and cracked me up with what she had to say back:

Seeing the one of the two babies in the tub made me wonder about something...Do you think Jessa might like a Barbie doll? Most little girls, by the time they're her age, have one. I just feel like she might be missing out on something, you know? Maybe I'll get her one before I come back to Scott. What do you think?

Sorry this post is sort of rambling. I am feeling pretty rambly tonight.

I am not really sure what the point I was trying to make was, but I will say this:

If you are ever in need of a naked, but very clean Barbie, give us a call.

The hunt for Barbie

My house is still full of boxes. It is somewhat discouraging because I feel like I have unpacked and organized so much, yet there is still so much to be done. I am trying, but now that we are living here, it is harder. Like I still have to fix breakfast and lunch and take out the trash and wash clothes. Boy was I spoiled staying with Momma and Daddy. . .

So the kids have their moments when they are content to play together with the things that have already been unpacked. These moments allow me to focus and unpack and get excited about the new house. Then there are the moments that they want something, in this case, it was Barbies. Jessa had been asking me to unpack Barbies for DAYS. Now, the "play room" is currently a "box room." We had a lot of the boxes put in there because there is no real furniture AND no one needed to sleep in there. So I would agree to open 1 box here and 1 box there to see if we could find things. I am not unreasonable. These kids have more toys that FAO Schwarz, and they have more than enough to occupy them. I have unpacked coloring books, crayons, books, stuffed animals, trains, and many other things. Plus their toy boxes were moved FULL of toys, so please do not feel too bad for Jessa.

There are a couple of reasons why opening boxes searching for Barbies willy nilly is not a good idea. First, if I open it and it is not the right box, I am not about to tape it back. This means that when they are bored, they can scatter the contents of said box all over the house. I prefer to open them when I am ready to put things in their proper place. As much as boxes drive me crazy, box contents scattered everywhere is WORSE.

Second, the boxes are hard to figure out. Here is the way they are labeled:

There are like 20 boxes all labeled with one word:

I knew the Barbies were in a case, so that helped me figure out the size of the boxes to concentrate on. I would let her pick one labeled toys, and we'd give it a shot. This went on for a couple of days.

So yesterday, Jessa was having a rough day. Every little thing would set her off. It was rainy and dark, so we were all sort of feeling blah. But I was making so much progress in the kitchen that I did not want to unpack MORE toys yet. Well, after her third hysterical melt down over nothing, I told her I would find her Barbies.

After about 10 boxes, lots of moving, climbing, and lifting, I found the confounded Barbies. She was SO happy and spent the rest of the afternoon dressing and bathing and fixing Barbie hair. Spencer was even playing with her (she shared a few with him).

I was happy that they were happily playing the rest of the afternoon, never mind the carnage that is the "box/play room:"