Diary of a Mad Momma in a Minivan part five

[Jodi]

Somedays it's all I can do to keep from pulilng my hair out. But I prefer the hair look to the bald for myself. I wake up bright and early each morning wishing that someone had invented a coffee i.v so that it could just go straight to my veins. But I go about my morning preparing lunches, making breakfasts, picking out clothes, tieing laces, checking breath for clean teeth purposes, and that's just the beginning of what I know will turn out to be yet another long, exhausting day. I take two of my three girls to school in my "mad" minivan and pray I have not forgotten to check the mirror before leaving my house. When I return home for six hours I am faced with the Civil War part two: my three year old. Let me not mislead you, but I seriously think sometimes that if you put a group of three year olds like mine together and shipped them to Iraq the war would end within minutes after they have surrendered to us. Yes, she can be that scary. Yet there are days that I truly sit back and take note of the beauty she possesses. Her wild locks play shame to those who dare come before her and her firey blue eyes can stop evil in it's tracks. She prances around in her tiny shoes filled with a dose of dynamite and an attitude to match. She requires a daily painting of her nails and a crown upon her head on most days. She tells stories to her own tune and sings Taylor Swift. And today she amazed me, as she does on a daily basis. That's right. My little three year old spitfire Savannah is a princess who knows just what she wants. We were riding in the car today and one of those "stop you in your tracks" moments happened. Savannah says, "momma?". I reply, "yes?"
Savannah: "I need a real microphone. I am going to be like Taylor Swift." I reply, "okay that's great honey." Savannah: "and you can sit in the front row when I am on 'America's Got Talent'."

Ahh, the joy of parenting. Thank you Lord for my spitfire.