3rd Painting

Here's what I've been up to lately. I finished the Madonna and Child, which I adapted from Raphael's originial from the Sistine Chapel. This one is displayed in the Friedman kitchen, on a chair, in the corner.

The Friday Feature

Well, some of you may have noticed the new feature on the sidebar and some of you may be more like me. That is, you have the observational skills of a blind cave fish. However, since most people find my website by googling phrases such as:
"Asshole Mommy"
"Poop Molecules"
"Limoncello Decorative Bottles" I like this one because they are probably hoping the search will lead them to a Martha Stewart website, but instead BAM!, here you are at my crappy blog.
"Hermit Crab Legs Falling Off"
"I hate spiders"
"Garfield's Halloween Adventure F Bomb"
"Using a hair strand for flossing teeth?"

and my personal favorite, "How to get Hooker Blood out of Carpet" Psssst....use a ShamWow.

And, that's just in the last week. So, to assist all of you freaks out there who unwittingly stumble across this blog in the pursuit of such noble knowledge, there is a new feature on the sidebar with links to the most searched posts.

Now go out there and shine, little stars!

After a Little Questioning...

It turns out 'The Fairy House' isn't as demonic as I originally thought. What a relief.

You see this charming fellow? It isn't Satan after all, it's just a guy in a scary mask and a waist-down bull costume. He's just trying to scare her as a joke. Ha. Ha. Ha?
The thing going across his chest isn't a saw, it's his arm. And he's got a bull tail going up. See? Whew. I'm so glad it's all resolved...except for that knife he's holding in his hand aiming at the crying girl fairy.



On to the next page:

It's not a severed head, it's just the bull costume. That clears it all up, right?

Thank goodness. The next talk we have will be about jokes. What's "Funny, Ha Ha" and what's "Funny, you're worrying Mommy, please don't kill me in my sleep, for the love of God."

As Sayde says, "You're freaking me out," kid.

The Fairy House

by Sayde Friedman, 6 years old

The cover:


Aww, this is going to be cute, I can tell. Just look at that happy little fairy, the butterfly and the flower. How sweet and precious!









Page 1:


Wait a second, that dude is freaky. Is he holding a saw?
She's crying! He has cloved hooves!
Oh my God. What the hell?



Page 2:


Phew, here comes the hero to rescue her. What the frig? Is he holding a severed head?
Oh dear.

Page 3:

And, they lived happily ever after and had a smiling baby. Well, she looks happy, the Dad looks kind of angry. I guess raging, head severing brutality can do that to a fairy.

Well, I hope all of you out there are enjoying your so called "normal " children.

Jerks.

Ain't No Woman Like the One I've Got

3 posts in 2 days? I clearly have way too much time on my hands this morning. The one perk about having a sick baby is that they sleep a lot. I'm an awful mother.

Anyhoo, just for the hell of it, I decided to google my own name to see what came up. Happily, I saw the first link was to my art website that I started earlier this year. I'm working on my third painting so far. Some are incomplete, all are for sale. Ahem...

But as I scrolled down the google search I came across this:

Click on it to look closer, because I am too dumb to figure out how to zoom it.

Just to clarify for those of you who don't know me well, I married this guy:

He's pretty much the opposite of small, pretty, and feminine. And he lacks the long smooth hair the other writer admires.

I would like to say however, that had I been born gay, I probably would go for the small pretty type too. And if I happened to be a gay penguin, I would prefer the short fuzzy, egg hatching type. Mazel Tov, little penguins.

Coloring America

This morning, Connor took out his crayons and drew a big circle on his paper. He told me he was coloring the United States of America. He chose a blue crayon and after a few squiggles, told me "This is North Carolina."

Next, he picked a red crayon and asked, "Mommy, what state is red?"

"Uhhh, Texas?" I said.

He busily began making red squiggles to make Texas.

Next, he picked a brown crayon. "Mommy, what state is brown?"

"New Jersey."

Disclaimer: I'm from Jersey. Only people from New Jersey can make fun of it. Don't try it or you might yourself sleeping with the fishes, capiche?

Happy Birthday, Ella Beans!

Well, two days late anyway.

You were sick on your 1st birthday, little one, and you spent 2 hours of it sitting at the doctors' office with fever and diarrhea. You didn't even get to eat cake on your birthday. But thanks to the pre-party we had a couple of weeks ago, we at least know you don't like cake...or ice cream.

Daddy wants a DNA test because he says you can't be mine, but I saw the way you lit up when I fed you a chocolate chip.

I've heard it said that nicknames are a sign of being loved. If that is true, you can consider yourself one of the most loved children in the world. Mommy loves you, Ella Beans, Ella Bella, Ella Bo Bella, Pookie Shama-tookie, Shamookie, Shamooka, Pookin-tot, Poquito Mosquito, Lovey, Love Bug, Itsy Bits, Chubsy Wubsie (who was a bear and had no hair), Monsterina Ballerina, Crankopolis. And Daddy loves you, Mrs 2 Teeths (now Mrs 4 teeths), Punkin Beans. And Sayde loves you, Ellie, Sonia. And Connor loves you, Nu Nu, Eensy Meensie.

I could say something here about all the changes that have taken place in our lives over the past year, but they all pale in comparison to you. Who knew someone so small could make a family feel so complete. And, while you may be short on crawling and walking skills, you are definitely not short on love and attention. Especially attention. More specifically, older sister and brotherly attention. In fact, you put up with quite a lot. Thanks for being such a good sport, Eensy Meensie.

Happy 1st Birthday, baby girl. Mommy loves you more than you can ever know.

2004 Honda Minivan? $30,000

Leaving it in a parking lot overnight only to come back and find it covered in bird shit? $5

That same day, having to literally tie on the rear top brake light with rope because somehow it fell off: Free.

Watching your coolness factor do a slip and slide down a rocky slope and then plummet off a cliff? Priceless.

Yes, I now drive a bird shit covered, held together by rope, minivan. Please don't start begging me for a ride, I can't make the whole world happy.