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My Baby Is Turning Hoochie

Ahh, the holidays! Time when all kids and hubbies start to dream of Santa’s toys.  And pie.  And the time when all moms start to dread Santa’s toys.  And pie.  Because she knows she will be the one finding, buying, wrapping said Santa’s toys and baking that stupid pie. Ahh, the holidays! Also a time where all good readers of blogs are waiting patiently for the writer of said blogs to get around to actually writing something.  But alas, the holidays win again. So I will resort to what all good bloggers do when they lack the time for proper fodder. Post pictures. Lots and lots of pictures!

Pictures you ask? I gotz them!

First a little history with this set. Before I start thinking about pie again.  My wonderful geeky/tennis pro husband has done something that every child who loves shiny things and loves to press buttons only can dream about.  He has pieced together with magic and some other various mind trickery methods an I-phone for our daughter. Made from spare parts from the several phones we’ve had and, ahem, screens I’ve we’ve cracked, yes world, believe it.  My 18 month old officially has her own I-phone.  Do we spoil or what?!  Beat that Grandma and Grandpa!  It really works too.  It doesn’t have reach out and touch someone phone capabilities, but when it’s on our own home network it can go online.  And let us not forget about e-mail. Since she was born she has had her own e-mail address. Set up by yours truly.  I mean, if she is going to be the star of my website she HAS to have her own address too right?  Mainly this was set up so she could slap out some fun letters to family members and occasionally respond to her various fan letters that she gets.  But every child star needs an outlet. Am I right?

But along with some fun technological capabilities that should be way beyond a child’s scope right now she also has at her little finger tips all the music on daddy’s I-pod play list.  She knows how to turn it on too.  Let me tell you this. It’s a really strange thing to see your little toddler toddling around with an I-phone in her hand.  She’s just doing what all toddlers do, checking out things, picking up this or that, testing limits.  Oh and lets not forget, stopping at various moments to bust a wiggle for a dance move.  It’s a riot for sure.

The trouble is, one day her little music maker started playing some rap music. I, being more of a classic Chili Peppers type of girl, of course couldn’t identify what exactly she was listening to but I do believe it was Satan chanting at her.  It had to be, because one minute my sweet, innocent, adorable, BABY is just listening to some music and the next ….this…Hoochie-1

She’s gone all Hoochie Mama on me!  Shirt flipped up, skirt tucked into her waist band showing off her butt. Belly all hangin’ out. Arms crossed, frowning at the world. “What cho’ lookin’ at man? I ain’t gotz nothin’ fo you fool.”


“I’z a hottie. I’z noz it.”  Meanwhile her mommas eyes are burning with tears. My little girl! What’s happened to my little girl.  She’s gone all…..Hoochie!


Ok, get a grip mom. And don’t rub it in baby doll!  You don’t even know what hot stuff is let alone have any of it to show off.  Quit it before momma is forced to dress you in a potato sack.


STOP IT! Stop shaking those baby hips!  You have no idea how you are aging me right now!  First it’s dressing like a Hoochie then it’s dancing like one.  What’s next?Cigar-baby

Wait! What just happened?  My cute baby just went from Hoochie to sittin’ around smokin’ stogies! I’m telling you. That’s what’s wrong with music these days. It can take the cutest baby and turn her into a exhibitionist with a smoking habit. Satan! Leave my daughter now!



And all cute again! Whew! That was a close call.  No more rap for you my dear until you’re 30.

Note–  I’m sure you’re wondering how her shirt get all Hoochie-fied. She shoved her arm up the bottom of it and then out the neck line, thus slipping it off her shoulder and revealing more than too much skinny baby belly.

Note about the note– I do feed my child well.  She’s just skinny and I’m just jealous.

Another note after the note about the note– How and why she kept pulling her skirt up and then shoving it down her waist line is a mystery I prefer not to solve. I will ask her when she is an old married woman. Until then I don’t want to know.

Oh, and one more note after the note after the note about the note– The stogie is a giant pretzel. What? Did you think I was going to let me my kid light up this early on? Naw!  Redneck Hoochies have to be at least 5 years old to smoke and must have a solid Mountain Dew habit in place first.

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