New Horizons

Tuesday, June 26th, 2007 was my husband, Mike Moody's 40th birthday. We have both now moved up in our double digits. We kept his birthday quite simple and yet wonderful at the same time. We had Alex and Farrah stay at a friend's house so we could have the house and the evening to ourselves. This was very nice. For his birthday, I had been working with my brother, Jeff and his friend Mike, to put together a CD for him. I've always known about couples that put together CD compulations of music, but I did mine different. Mike loves it when I sing. So, for his birthday, I sang and recorded 5 different songs and had them put on a CD for him. It turned out great and he loved it. Yay! Well, turning 40 wasn't as big of a deal as he thought it would be. He didn't suddenly look in the mirror and see wrinkles and grey hair that wasn't there the night before. He didn't suddenly have arthritus in his hands. He didn't want to suddenly drive slower. In fact, I believe a good indication of how "old" he felt was put into perspective when we were in Las Vegas. When we were out at the pool, all the guys (and girls for that matter) that were in the early 20s were way out of shape compared to him. He looked out of place, meaning everyone else looked like they were hibernating for the winter. He has taken better care of himself than any of these kids. It was pretty neat. On top of that, he had been stopped more than one time to find out if he was fighting in the next night's UFC fights. Weirdos. When he was approached by a large number of people, it was 5:30 in the morning and we had been up drinking. Yes, that is Mike's way to prepare for the "Big Fight." Be sure to drink lots of booze and don't get any sleep right before. It was flattering for me when people would ask me as I'm sure it was flattering for him when they asked him. Old? No way. His spirit is more youthful than most guys I know and yet his wisdom and way of life is beyond his years. He is truly represents the meaning of "age is just a number."

On a side note, I am no longer working at my place of business anymore. Things haven't been the same since I came back from maternity leave. It's as if my leave was considered a long extended vacation and how dare I ever think of getting sick, being there for my daughter when she gets sick, take my daughter to the doctor for her various shots, arrive late because Farrah shit all over herself and me, or anything of that matter. Good ridence. This is a true blessing in disguise. I am looking forward to what my future holds. Mike and I had a good talk about what had happened and both feel that a big wind of change is in our lives. Awesome!

Dear Farrah (1/2 of a Year Old)

Oh my God, I can't believe it! We are six months away from your first birthday. So cool, and yet so scary. You turned 6 months old on June 18th. You're growing up so fast, but it is incredibly awesome to watch the changes you make each and every day. My only first experience with a "baby" was with training a puppy. So, it weirds me out when I can say a word, show you something, or even hand you something and you give me different facial or vocal reactions to it rather than just staring at me or waging your tail. There have been four major mile stones you have reached in this past month. One of which was rolling from front to back. You already knew how to roll back to front, but now since you can do both you roll all over the place. I put you on your back on the right side of the room facing a certain direction and the next moment I turn around you are on the other side of the room facing the other way and whining that you're tired. I'm always sure to blame you for your tiredness, because you clearly did it to yourself. Seriously, you didn't see me push you across the room, did you? I'm getting nervous and excited at the same time because I can see crawling or at least scooting in our very near future. You have found that there is mobility behind all this rolling. Now, you are starting to lie on your belly and your back and push off hard with your strong legs and feet. It's just a matter of time now. I suppose your Dad and I should consider baby-proofing the house.

The next thing that you did was take your solids correctly. I was so excited. The first food you had that you learned to eat right were pears. When I came at you with the spoon, you opened your mouth wide, I inserted the spoon, poured in the pears, and you closed your mouth around your bite, swirled it around, swallowed with little to no pears being spit out, and you opened your mouth for the next bite. Talk about a proud moment! I find it amazing how it's things as simple as these that can bring us such pride in ourselves for our children. I was cheering for you the whole time.

There was another moment that I have been completely and selfishly excited about. You can hold your own bottle! THANK YOU!!! The only thing you need to work on is the whole "holding the bottle up all the way" thing so you don't get gas from sucking down air. However, for the most part, you are able to feed yourself your own bottle. We have taken many pictures of this, because this new little independence of yours has helped me tremendously with my own independence. In the middle of the night, if you're hungry, I can simply reach over and hand you your bottle, you will grab it, eat, and eventually fall asleep. All this while I am dosing off again. Yay! Sleep.

Finally, there is another thing that you have done that I know I have mentioned from time to time, but this time was different. You laugh at and with us! I have been playing "peek-a-boo" with you and this makes you laugh hard and make your very loud inhaling sound of glee. On Father's Day, your Dad was holding you up so you could see me, but I kept hiding behind things and popping up. I knew you loved this because every time I would pop up, you would have your huge gummy grin on your face and let out the sweetest laughter.

Well, Beautiful, we are half way to your first birthday. As the days have passed by, I've become a little more overwhelmed everyday by what is to come. There is so much that I look forward to while at the same time I don't know if my heart can handle yet one more of your personal triumphs. You're too much! You're growing up and very eager to do so. I get excited every time you learn something new because I get so incredibly proud of you I can hardly stand it. Your smile and laughter make my heart dance around inside of me which tickles my soul and makes me return the smile and laughter, in the end making it feel never ending for both of us. Everything that is you, is pure joy and pure happiness. Your Dad and I have never known such a happy person in all our lives. Even when you feel your worst, you are your best.

I love you and will love you forever and ever and ever.

Mama

Aren't Weekends Fun?

Not always. Let me start by warning you, this could be long and I'll do my best to keep it to the point. First, Farrah wrapped up her little stomach flu on Thursday of last week and finished up with the "aftermath" of it last night. However, she decided to pass it on to her mommy and daddy just for shits and giggles. Or at least just for shits. I was lucky enough to only get the back end torture for an afternoon, followed by putting my face in a toilet dry heaving at 3 in the morning. Lovely. Thanks, sweetie. I had already been incredibly uncomfortable physically with the achiness of the flu all day Thursday and Friday. Now, I had "proof" that I wasn't 100%. Also, Friday night, out of the blue, BAM! a sore throat. What? Usually, when I get a sore throat, it is just a small tickle indicating that a nasty cold was on its way. Nope. This was no ordinary sore throat. This one ultimately kicked my tonsil's ass(es). Saturday, I was worthless. Mike and I sat on our couch surrounded by blankets, thermometers, aspirin, Advil, Tums, Pepto, and tons of ice water. But to no avail. Nothing wanted to work. My throat kept getting worse and worse and my glands kept swelling. We had to ask Alex to pick up diapers for Farrah and breakfast for the next morning (Father's Day) because neither of us was stepping foot outside. I couldn't eat ANYTHING. The only thing that felt good was ice cold water. Everything else, including saliva, felt like knives. It was awful. Well, I was up all night in pain. WTF?!! I had already not been getting any rest because Farrah was sick, now me?! Screw this! I woke up, threw on some sweats and tennis shoes and told Mike I was off to the ER. It was 6 in the morning, I knew nothing terribly exciting had probably happened yet, so I knew I'd get in right away. I did. As soon as the doctor saw me, I had to whisper (because I could hardly speak) that I thought it was probably Strep Throat. He took one look in my throat and immediately said, "Whoa. Sooo, do you want Vicodon or Percacet?" No joke. Skipped over the whole Hospital strength Ibuprofen or even Tylenol 3. He went right for the big stuff. It was not good. He knew I hadn't eaten in about 4 days, so he even gave me an anti-nausea pill so I wouldn't throw up the meds. So, once I got back from the hospital, we celebrated Father's Day while I was completely drugged up. Mike received a few wonderful cards, Cinnabons for breakfast, and some great (funny, I might add) t-shirts. He also earned some extra couch time for the whole day. Being sick = no fun.

Baby of the Living Dead

We're tired. So very, very tired. Little Farrah thought it would be super cool to start forcing her teeth through her gums around the same time she decided to start pushing massive amounts of snot out of her face at the same time she decided to get very hot and produce fevers at the same time I decided to start her on real solids. Whew! Yes, that's right: teething, a nasty cold, and some peach induced diarrhea. Fabulous. It has truly been the perfect storm. There was one night in particular that stands out in my mind when Mike and I were ready to go to bed around 11:00 at night. However, Farrah said, "Ya know what? My mouth kinda hurts and I can't breath real well, so I thought it would be a cool thing for ALL of us to stay up until, let's say...3:30 in the morning while I scream. What do ya say?" I say, kill me now. Sunday was a shitty day for me. I honestly thought I was losing my mind. I had a few break downs, but nothing unmanageable. That night, Farrah decided it was time to start breathing better again, stop fevering, and try to get some sleep. Yay! It wasn't a lot, but it was much better than what we've been dealing with. We're going to start making some very necessary changes here very soon for her and our sleeping habits. I'm actually very excited about the upcoming changes. I think they will make all the difference in the world for the whole family. Okay, I'm going to stop typing now so I can go take a little power nap and recharge for another round.

Douche Bag

The Hoff.



So I thought I'd add these links for you to enjoy some great music videos. Go ahead and open them. You know you want to. It's pure awesomeness.

www.startribune.com/a1595

www.youtube.com/v/pgX-hiQdfFw




Enjoy having that image ingrained in your brain all day.

A New Day

Yeeeeeah. So, remember when I said it wasn't PMS yesterday? Wrong. Sorry, world, for wanting to blow you up. I had an amazing experience yesterday. After what had happened (which by the way, I had every right to be angry because what had happened to me was uncalled for and out of line. I was just sensitive to the situation, but I digress), I experienced a moment that took all the frustration, anger, and sadness away. It was Farrah's smile. Something so simple, so pure, so innocent, and so unconditionally wonderful reminded me of what really matters. (Tearing up) Mike had talked me off the ledge which helped tremendously, and it was Farrah's bright smile that lightened my heart. She hasn't been tainted by the world and society, so as far as she knows, all is wonderful. And it is. It is wonderful. I couldn't believe that something as simple as my daughter's wonderful grin could take away all the day's badness and wrap me up in a warm cuddly gooey hug of joy. What a fantastic thing. I now have two anti-depressants in my life...my husband and my daughter.

One of Those Days

Do you ever have a day when you would love to kill people around you if you wouldn't have to go to prison? Yeeeeeeah, that's my day today. I know it's unhealthy sometimes to complain, but holy shit, it really isn't safe to be around me today. I am on the vurge of tears I'm so freakin' done with this day. I cannot stand it when people tell me to do something (like at work) and then jump down my throat claiming "I NEVER SAID THAT!!!" Bullshit. Accountability is a good thing. If I screw up on something, I have no problem admitting fault, apologising, and even offering whatever I can to make the situation right. People that want to think that they're perfect and would rather pass the buck on the people that have helped them time and time again are idiots and assholes. I am leaving work early today so that I don't break down in front of everyone, but it was one of those situations where if I could, I probably would take the rest of the goddamn week off. I know I need to blow this off and let it roll off my shoulders, but it hurt my feelings and it felt like the person yelling at me wanted to make me look like a fool so that they wouldn't. Whatever dude. I'm not one to make executive decisions that often at work, so I probably did WHAT I WAS TOLD TO DO. One might mistake my sensitivity to PMS, only, I don't get that and never have. It is very rare for me to get hormonal and think I should punch people's faces in. Everyone is reading that they should stay clear of me and I think they are wise. Okay. I think I'm done bitching and who knows, I might end up erasing this after I've cooled my jets a bit.