Mish Mash

It's been a while since I've let you all know about the craziness that is my life this summer. So now I'll let you know. Rest assured the boring writing parts will be interspersed with the cute picture parts. Here's one to get you started:
Better days: I want you all to know that my bad day did not continue past the car smashing, sandwich burning, sick child issues. I did miss the fancy French restaurant, but I got to watch about four kid movies instead. Good times. Lizzie's fever spiked in the early evening, so I was glad I stayed home. The next day, however, when I was grocery shopping, I heard the thunder and rain start outside and KNEW (you know, in the way I know things) that we were going to lose power and I needed to speed shop. As luck would have it (and I was much luckier on that day) I managed to get out of the check out line JUST as the power went out. The poor guy in line behind me might still be there for all I know. However, the storm was so bad that I had to stand in the vestibule for a good 15 minutes until it was safe for me to dash to my car, pushing a metal cart, holding a metal cane, running through an inch of rushing water under my feet. I knew my luck had changed for the better when I didn't die in the parking lot.

Time for a cute picture. This is Hannah and Lizzie on the new train ride at the Cape May County Zoo. Aunt Linda and Grandma Connie (who took this picture) took the girls to the zoo so Rob and I could have lunch together, when we were on vacation at the shore:
O Pioneer: I discovered this past Sunday that I would make a lousy pioneer woman. While that might not come as a surprise to anyone who knows of my pathological love of air conditioning, it turns out that I am also a deep lover of electricity, even the electricity in my oven, which I otherwise hate because it's not a gas oven.

This past Sunday we lost our power for more than 12 hours. I did my best to channel my inner Laura Ingalls Wilder and pretty much only came up with the plan that Pa should get out his fiddle and keep us occupied until the storm cleared and we could go back to picking vegetables from the garden. We don't have either a fiddle OR a garden, so instead I went to get a massage. Trust me, if Laura could have wangled a massage back there in the Little House, she'd have done the exact same thing.

Perhaps I was feeling a little guilty about leaving my powerless family, but when I returned I let Hannah and Lizzie watch Barbie Mariposa on the last of my laptop battery, effectively assuring that I would not be able to pass the dark, silence of the late evening playing solitaire or laptop pinball.

When the power finally came back on at midnight or so, I ended up sleeping in the nook because Lizzie (who had thought earlier that it was too dark to sleep in her own bed and wanted to sleep in my room, even though I wasn't there and it seemed just as dark to me) had taken over the entire bed and refused to move.

The nook (also our guest room) needs a clock. I know this now because I depended on my extremely (usually) dependable husband to wake me up at 7:45 when he left for work, to give me enough time to get the girls ready for their dental check-up. However, on THIS morning, because the power outage had interfered with his laundry cleaning he left for work at 8:10, causing me to have to rush everyone, including me, from sound sleep to the dentist chair in less than 20 minutes. We were late and Hannah was dressed like a homeless person (paisley pants that are way too short for her and a tie-dyed tee shirt) but we got there at 8:40 giving the most wonderful impression, I'm sure.

So now here's a picture. I didn't take this one either as I didn't go to the 4H Fair. Instead I was interviewing the lead singers from Maroon 5 and Counting Crows (they're bands, Aunt Brenda!) while everyone else was sweltering in the animal-scented heat that is always the 4H Fair. I love my job. Oh, and Rob, I cropped out the high white athletic socks you were wearing at the Fair. You're welcome:

A post to sink your teeth into: Once we were at the dentist things started to settle down. Hannah was in the chair getting her teeth cleaned about 10 minutes later. She has 20 teeth. And 27 cavities. :( She did great with the x-rays though (which is why we went to a children's dentist instead of our family dentist) and thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience (because she didn't have to pay for it.) Then Lizzie refused to wear the funky sunglasses they give to the kids to protect their eyes from flying tarter so we had to spend a good five minutes trying to talk her into it until I finally came up with the brilliant idea to wrap Dubba (her blanket) around her eyes. It worked for the cleaning, however the dentist told me that in 30 years he'd never seen anything like it. If nothing else, we Rasmussens are trend setters. When we got home and I asked Lizzie why she was so afraid to wear the sunglasses she said, "I wasn't afraid Mommy, they were just REALLY UGLY."

Lizzie has about 27 cavities, too, but hers weren't as deep as Hannah's. To be honest, the dentist was giving me a little attitude about the bad oral hygiene of my children, to which I simply replied (no not really, but I thought it!) ca ching, ca ching, ca ching. Seriously I'd think the dentist would be thrilled that his wife can now purchase that mink coat thanks to the bad brushing habits of my 5 year olds. Hannah had her first appointment for work on Wednesday and she loved every minute of it. They give the kids nitrous oxide to relax them, but apparently there is no such provision for the parent who has to sit there holding the other 5 year old on her lap while she complains that "Hannah looks like a big pig!"

I have dentist issues myself. And when I go to the dentist I pretend that I'm somewhere else (usually giving an interview to Oprah, if you must know) and hope that the time goes by quickly. Here, though, I had to pay attention to what was happening in case Hannah got scared. Which of course she didn't because she is the tough cookie of the bunch of us. She didn't even mind that when you are laying in the dentist chair, the wall hanging directly in your line of vision is a shadow box with a HUGE HAIRY TARANTULA in it. Tina, I know you're reading this and you'd have needed a valium to complete any dental work at all. As it was, I don't even mind spiders, but I found the thing sort of frightening. Especially when Hannah kept pointing it out. Over and over again.

Okay, now that you've put up with my stories, I'll give you TWO pictures of the girls. They are pictures taken during one of our photographer sessions (where I play the photographer and they play models):