Pre-preteen

Everyone likes cruising around in Daddy's truck.  Not because it's awesome, but because it only seats five peeps total, so if all the kids go with one of the parents, someone gets to sit in the front seat (no airbags, of course).

I dragged all the kiddos with me to pick up a crib the other day, and, after getting ourselves some dollar menu nuggets and fries (thank you Wendys.  How would I feed me brood on-the-go without you?), we set off into Mesa.

Now, for the next part of the story, you have to know that I believe in that old saying, "Music calms the angry beast."  Meaning, I turn on music in the car.  I turn it up and, as long as I don't play any church music ("It's not Sunday Mom!") my kids stay quiet, they usually don't fight, and I avoid one of those headaches that start down in my neck.

I tell you all of this so you know why I didn't notice for a week that Adi had taken a series of photos on my phone.  of herself.  with chicken nuggets.  sitting next to me.

In all honesty, I blame the moments she sneaks up behind me when I'm perusing Facebook.  Or society.  Or the Disney Channel.   Anyone but me (honestly, can you see me doing this?).

These are only a selection of the photos she left me on my phone. 

I look at these and think *gasp*, "She's knocking on the preteen years, which means she's almost a teen,  which means my life is going to get drastically more difficult."

Which means I should probably get off the computer and go play with my little girl while she's still interested in hanging with me.