This is a cartoon by my 8 year old (the Color Princess), called “The Love Bar”, starring no-name characters from the My Little Pony universe.
- Boy pony is drinking a bottle of wine at the bar. Hot girl pony walks in.
- Boy pony hits her with a “Hey babe” but knocks over his wine in the process.
- Girl pony walks out in disgust.
Remember the CP is 8 years old. Dee and I are in serious trouble with this one.
More of Rollin’ Metal - this time with instruments. Also, a more intimate venue. Good stuff, instant classic.
Here’s the newest Metal band on the scene. They may not play any actual instruments and their lyrics still need some work, but they’ve got an energy you just can’t deny.
(Ignore the living room mess and the fact that the drummer isn’t wearing any pants. Both are fairly common occurrences at Casa de Bedlam.)
Monday Morning Haiku
My girls grow quickly.
With long office days, I’ve lost
more than just an hour.
The CP decided to make Bendaroo versions of the Bean’s Veggietales plush toys that she got for Christmas.
Why don’t we call it “yesterNIGHT”?
-via the Color Princess
The CP has been having some problems in school this year. She’s still brilliant, but she’s disrupted others in the class at times, refused to do certain assignments (especially those that involved creative writing/drawing with/without a subject prompt), and it’s been so bad on certain days that the guidance counselor and her pediatrician finally referred her to see a behavioral therapist. [Yes, she’s only 6 and is only in first grade, but it’s past the point where the teacher can just chalk her up to being a difficult kid in class and still maintain some semblance of control when she does have an “incident”.]
After a couple of play therapy sessions, the therapist (who isn’t qualified to make a diagnosis of her own) told my wife today that based on the signs she’s seeing, it could possibly be a mild case of Asperger’s Syndrome. She’s referring us to a psychologist practice in the area who can actually make a diagnosis.
My wife is understandably freaked out right now. She’s worried about the CP being pulled from normal classes, and what it means in terms of long-term development and well-being for her. I’m worried too, but not nearly to the extent that Dee is - after all, I see a lot of myself in my daughter and her behaviors and although I would not self-diagnose myself with AS, I used to (and still do) display many of the characteristics that make up “typical” AS case, and I managed to get through school ok. In my mind, getting a formal diagnosis could only help us out, as then we could lean on the decades of recent research and practices to find out what will work best to help the CP cope with things and ensure she stays integrated with her fellow students and classes the best she can.
Still, this is scary. If anyone has any good resources they could recommend for my wife and I to check out, I would appreciate it. I’m still waiting until we hear from a qualified medical professional, but the more we find out about now, the better things should be in the long run. Right?
Whereas the ever-stoic Color Princess tried the lemon and without evoking even a hint of pucker-face, handed it back to her mother with a curt “I don’t like that.”
The Magic Pen - An Illustrated Tale by the Color Princess
My 6-year old loves to draw and color, and once her Kindergarten class got into storyboarding and writing stories, she started writing stories on her own outside of class. I found this one penned in her “Drawing Journal” the other day and thought it was too cute not to share.
(She said she messed up and so she wrapped up the story early. I think it’s perfect.)
One guess where she gets it
My wife was out with the kids the other day, when the topic of birthdays came up. I think after the Color Princess had said something about being 6 years old, a clerk continued the conversation by asking if she knew how many birthdays she had had. The CP thought for a second, and then responded, “Seven.”
My wife interjected, “No, if you’re 6 years old, you’ve only had 6 birthdays, not 7.”
To which my smartass of a daughter quickly replied, “Not-UH, Mommy. Because I had a birthday THE DAY I WAS BORN.”
Yep, she’s a chip off of the ol’ block.
Prepare for cuteness in the form of my Color Princess, from when I interviewed her on the day before her birthday about what age she considers “old”.
Oh yeah, and if there’s one part of me that I’m growing increasingly self-conscious about in my “old-age”, it’s my voice. Hearing it on this clip makes me cringe. I’m not quite so nasal sounding, in my head.