A Little Test

There is something I'd like for all of you out there to try. You know the movie, E.T. In the movie, there is a scene where Drew Barrymore discovers ET in the closet and screams at the top of her lungs. You know this scene. Well, if you happen to have it on either video or DVD, go to that scene and play it. When you do play it, be sure to have the surround sound up as loud as you can handle. Then, after watching that scene, rewind it and play it again, then again, and again, and again. Then take a break for about 5 minutes. Then play it again, and then again. Yeeeeeeah. Are you feeling my pain yet? My darling little petite Farrah has the lungs of a freakin' banshee. That scream that comes from young Drew Barrymore is nothing like that of Farrah. Hers sounds like it is coming out of a 4 or 5 year old little girl, but you can at least ask the 4 or 5 year old little girl to stop screaming. Farrah, on the other hand, thinks this is funny. And when you say "no" she keeps on going, because she's only 6 and a half months old and doesn't understand a word that is coming out of your mouth. No to her means, "please share this noise that makes my ears bleed with us some more." Thanks! That has been a little difficult to tolerate. It's cute for the first minute because she discovered how loud she can make her voice go and it's always fun to watch her make these new discoveries. However, when it's time for bed, time for a nap, or just plain quiet time, the screaming is no longer cute. That is usually when we have to finally send her to her room and close the door behind us. That way she can get it out of her system and we won't start crying from going insane.

She has also made an awesome discovery that her dad and I thoroughly enjoy listening to. Talking. She moves her tongue and mouth around and is making real baby talking sounds. She is heading in the direction of communication. It is entirely different from the talking we've experienced thus far. She will babble on and on and you can babble right back. She is learning to take her turn to talk. Mike and I could listen to this for hours because it's so damn precious that it helps us forget that only minutes ago she was screaming as if the boogie man jumped out from under her bed and was trying to take her down with him. We know our daughter will be okay if ever confronted with an unpleasant situation. Either she'll talk her way out of it, or simply cause their heads to explode with the sheer pitch of her vocal chords.

A WHOLE DECADE!!!

Saturday, June 30th, was Mike's and my 10 year anniversary. We met at his 30th birthday party on June 28th, hung out on June 29th, and went on our first date June 30th. We celebrate this date because of how incredibly long we've been together. We are very proud of how long we've been together. We have a very strong relationship that I can't help but brag about. Stop gagging. The best moments of my whole life have been spent with Mike. I love that. Some of the worst moments of my life have also been spent with Mike (not because of him, mind you). I love that, too. If not for Mike, I would've had a very difficult time getting through those times. He is an amazing man. I knew it the moment I met him.

I was 20 years old when I met Mike. I had an on again - off again boyfriend back in Alaska who I had told that I was going to start dating other men because he couldn't decide if he wanted to be in a relationship or not. I was also hanging out with a guy from time to time (the on again-off again boyfriend knew about him). No, I wasn't being bad. In any case, I met him on the night of his 30th birthday party. I didn't feel like going out that night, but I was told to go by my friends. When I arrived, I happened to sit right next to him. I immediately took notice of him because he was wearing glasses (I love glasses). Not only that, but he looked like a bad boy too, with his white tee shirt, jeans, and cigarette (I know, bad). Sophisticated with the glasses and a bad boy with the smokes. He was sexy. He and I hit it off immediately, and I knew we had a connection. Throughout that night, we continued to talk until the sun came up...literally. Any thoughts of old boyfriends and new ones went straight out the window. They were completely insignificant to this person I had just met. I had known the moment I left his house, I wanted to be with him. The next day I waited for his phone call. When I got it, my youthfulness came out. As soon as I got off the phone with him, I jumped up and down like a little girl. You'd think I had just won the lotto (I guess in a way I did). We hung out again that night and decided to make plans for an actual "date" for the next night which was a Sunday.

Date night consisted of us going to the Ponderosa Tavern with a bunch of his friends. I, of course, didn't have ID, but he knew the bartender. He told her not to give me any shit because I was going to be the next Mrs. Moody. Funny thing, he asked me if that weirded me out and it really didn't. It actually made me feel good and I was comfortable with the thought. We sat at a table away from al of his friends and talked. At the end of the night when it was time to say goodbye, he asked my permission for a kiss. I said yes, and we did. Ever since that night, we have never been apart except for a few hockey tournaments, business trips, or golf weekends. After our first date, I knew I wanted to be with him forever and ever. We chose to take things very slow in the upcoming years with buying a house, getting married, and of course, having a baby. Everything in due time, and it all worked out perfectly.

I am completely happy. My life is more than I thought I could have, but all that I've ever wanted. It is that way because of my husband, Mike. He is an amazing human being who has brought pure joy to my heart and to my life. To this day, Mike and I talk on the phone at least 4-5 times a day. If we can't be together all the time then we'll talk on the phone to feel close.

To Mike:

Honey, I love you with all of my heart. You are my favorite person and I couldn't imagine my life without you in it. You are my soul mate. There is no other for me. The connection between us is cosmic. This is not our first time being married. I know we've been together many lifetimes before and every time, we find each other. Like I've said before, the best decision I've ever made in my life was to go to that party. I'm so very glad I did. But you know what? We'd still have found one another eventually because we're supposed to be together.

Change (In more ways than one)

Have you ever changed a tire? Have you ever changed a tire while the car was driving down the freeway going 65 miles an hour? That's a little what it is like changing Farrah's diaper. I feel like I have to wrestle her down just to get the crap off her butt. She tightens up her legs while stretching and twisting her body so she can get to the Winnie the Pooh lamp on her changing table. It is always quite the event with her.

Well, I am not working right now. Which is to say I am not out at a 9 to 5 job getting paid. I am currently playing the role of "stay at home mom" and loving it. It has forced me to throw myself into being domestic. I'm not very good at it, but I think I'm starting to get the hang of it. I've been given an opportunity to spend more time with my daughter and get some things around the house taken care of that have been on the back burner (including Titan who, by the way, was given the best bath of his life today by yours truly). I am back to cooking dinners again. That has not been high on my priority list lately because the task of putting together a big dinner after a long day at work followed by the gym was not appealing. In any case, that is what is going on for the time being. We'll see what happens next. In the meantime, I will enjoy this little break and spend some very important time with Farrah and get some chores done.

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.

Can I Get a Witness?

On Tuesday, May 22nd, Farrah allowed her father and I to witness a first of hers. While Mike and I talked, Farrah was lying on her back playing with her dangly toys. From time to time she would be squirmy and push her body back and forth. While I was in mid sentence, Mike yelled, "Oh my god SHE DID IT!" as my eyes went to her. She had rolled over her first time in front of both of us! As soon as she did, we both cheered really loud and clapped our hands and that put a big smile on her face. Neither of us missed it! One of the things that has really bothered me about working full time and having her in daycare is missing any of her milestones. The look on her face was pure pride. She sat there on her hands and belly, wobbling back and forth and finally started to grunt. I had to help her back onto her back. Last night, she did it again, and again, I cheered loudly for her, putting another huge smile on her face.

Yesterday, I got to spend all day with her because I had to stay home with a bad case of allergy-itis. The pollen in the air is kicking my ass. Itchy eyes, itchy nose, itchy forehead, sinus head ache, sneezing, coughing, everything. It sucks. Also, I was exhausted from the night before. Mike and I stayed up for HOURS just talking. It was great. While we were up, I studied Farrah's sleeping habits. I used to think that if she started to wail in the middle of the night, it was because she was hungry. However, she was starting to do that only a little after an hour from eating last. Impossible for her to be hungry. I put her in her crib and the first time she cried, I went into her room, picked her up, held her and rocked her back to sleep. A couple hours later she did it again, and I did the same thing. Finally, she was ligitmately hungry, but it had been 5-6 hours since she last ate. I've come to the realization that she simply wants to cuddle. Not just cuddle, but be held as close to you as possible. How sweet. I don't have a rocking chair, so rocking her back and forth with just my body is very tiring. So, I will be borrowing my mom's rocking chair to put in Farrah's room for a while. Hopefully, that will help with the gradual transition of her sleeping with us to sleeping in her crib.

Dear Farrah: Part 5

Oh my gosh, you're 5 months old today! We've noticed that you are growing like a weed. You look like you're twice as long as you were when you were born. Which makes sense since you're clearly twice the weight. The car seat keeps getting heavier and heavier and I am beginning to grunt when I have to place you in the car and when I have to get you out.

Lately, I've been missing you like crazy. Part of it, I'm sure is postpartum, but a huge part of it is that I don't feel like I get to see you as much as I'd like to. My schedule, unfortunately, has made it very hard to see you more. Your Dad and I have been working on solutions to fix that, though. I have been feeling that you might think that Melissa is your mom because you see her more than me. This thought makes me cry. And then when I come to see you on my lunch break you turn to me and smile and talk with me, and the sadness melts away until I have to leave you again. As your father always says, "A solution will present itself." It will present itself for us in this situation. I don't know what it will be or when it will be, but I'm looking forward to fixing my schedule enough that this sadness goes away for me.

As I always write, you are very talkative. Not only do you talk, you shout. You want to make sure the house shakes when you speak. Everyone must know that Farrah is in the room and to open their ears and hear what you have to say. When you get excited about what you're yelling about, you start to cough. You strain your vocal chords to the point of tickling them. I always laugh at you when you do this. I also get nervous of what this could mean in the future. Are you going to be one of those little girls that screams and yells at the top of her voice if she doesn't get her way? Good God, I hope not. Actually, I know you won't because it will be your Dad and I raising you and we won't allow that behavior to come from our precious angel.

You have very busy hands and feet. We are now to the point where we cannot leave beer bottle caps, quarters, and little magnets in your crib. You grab everything and everything finds its way to your mouth. You put your blankets in your mouth, your toys in your mouth, my knuckles in your mouth, your feet in your mouth, the bottom of your shirt or dress gets pulled all the way up to land in your mouth, and if all else fails, your fist is in your mouth. Then there's the feet. You have, what I call, frog legs. You kick your right leg out while the left gets pulled back in. Then you kick your left leg out while the right gets pulled back in. This goes on back and forth for a long time. I even video taped it because you looked like you were dancing. When you do this while lying down with me, you usually kick me in the stomach. If you're lying on your back up against my legs, you kick me square in the boob. This has hurt lately because I've been working out so hard at the gym and my muscles are sore right where you get me.

One thing I've noticed about you has started to get me worried about what our future with you will look like. First of all, your father, Grandma Rita, Uncle Steve and oldest brother, Alex, all seem to suffer from some hunger-assholism problem. If they don't eat right when their bodies say it's time to eat, they are HORRIBLE to be around. They suddenly grow horns out of their heads and a long pointy tail squirms its way out of their asses. What I've noticed about you freaks me out a bit. When you get hungry, you scream and cry. That's it. There's no warning. I'd hope that you'd whimper just a little and warn me that I have exactly 2 minutes to get your meal ready before all hell breaks loose. Nope. Hell arrives the moment you get that first hunger pain in your belly. To be fair, you do warn me if we are on our way home from the gym. You whimper and whine and then freak out. However, in the middle of the night when you really should attempt to keep it down, you flip.

Although, I don't want you to grow up too fast, one thing that I am definately looking forward to is when you will learn to hold your bottle completely on your own. You're trying, and kudos to you for that. If you can just grip those tiny fingers around the bottle and hold it up so you're not completely sucking in air, it would make life so much easier. As it stands, I have to stay up with you for the 20+ minutes that you are eating at 2 in the morning.

Which brings me to food. You tried cereal for the first time in your life. Cereal, meaning a solid food. By Cereal, I mean rice cereal. And by rice cereal, I mean soggy, mushy, bland blah cereal, not rice crispys or fruity pebbles. You seemed to take it okay, but then you had difficulty pooping. We have since cut back completely until next month on giving you cereal again because we don't think your digestive system is quite mature enough for that. We have also started adding Karo Syrup to some of your bottles to help your digestive system. It works wonders. Almost no more gas pains!

Laughing. You are doing this a lot now. You have only belted out a good hardy laugh a handful of times, but you're learning. You also know when it's perfect timing to laugh. Like the time you peed right when I was taking your diaper off. That was hilarious. You clearly thought so, too. This was cool because you will probably have a sick and twisted sense of humor like your Mom and Dad.

You and I spent our first Mother's Day together this last Sunday. We had a lot of fun, and the time I got to spend with just you after the day finally wound down, was priceless. I enjoyed every minute of it. We just hung out watching tv, talking, playing, and napping. You are so incredibly cuddly. When we walk around together, you rest your head on my cheek. You're starting to hold on when we hold you, too. You are also pulling my hair and storing keepsake strands of it in between your fingers, toes, and last night, your neck. You were fine, just irritated that it wouldn't release itself. Speaking of hair...you're losing yours! We were looking at pictures of you and you are losing all that dark hair. Now, I honestly don't know what color hair you'll have. If I had to guess, I'd say a light brown. Your eyes are starting to take on color, too. They have a tinge of grey, blue, and green. You could go in any direction with this, too. You do have the black outer ring around your iris like I do. I love that.

Well, Farrah, another whole month has gone by and I have loved every single moment of it. You are such a perfect addition to our family. You are truly a happy baby. You are constantly full of smiles. Today is a Friday, and this is my favorite day. It means I get to spend hours upon hours with you and suck it all in. I love you, Kitten, and can't wait to see what you do next month.

Love,

Mama

Anniversary

It has been a year, now, that Alex came back to our lives. What a big life change that was for all of us. More life changes to come. Happy Reunion Anniversary, Buddy.

My Day

Sunday was Mumsy's Day. It was my first with Farrah and Alex and it was awesome. The stepboys, Nick and Alex, gave me a wonderful card full of touching sentiment, my daughter gave me a card along with a book, and my darling husband gave me a great card along with some cute clothes. Later, we went to brunch. I had spent quite some time pulling that little event together which ended up including 15 of us. By the time we were seated, I was nauseas. 6 of us were crammed in a booth along with the baby, purses, diaper bag, car seat, and gift bags. Barf. My anxiety built up to the point of starvation. I'll have a piece of toast and a glass of water, please. $20? Okay. I felt real bad about that. At brunch, you get charged per head, not the amount of food you eat. Oops. It was great seeing everyone, though. I hadn't seen my parents in 2 months! They hadn't seen their granddaughter in 2 months! I was excited for them to see how much she's changed. I also hadn't seen my brother and sister-in-law in a long time. They just came back from Mexico. Farrah was passed around like a bad cold. Everyone, including complete strangers, wanted to hold her. She was so great. Never fussed. She was just checking everything and everyone out around her. When we got home and it was just me, Mike, and Farrah, it was very relaxing and wonderful. I decided to use the rest of the afternoon cuddling with my little girl. It ended up being a perfect day. Thanks, family.

The Best Sound in the World is...

...the sound of my daughter's laughter when I change her diaper and she pees as I'm removing it and I try to quickly catch the mess in the nick of time. She did this to me last night when we had company over and she full-on laughed out loud at me when I yelped at what she was doing. The laughter and the smile that accompanied it was as if to say, "Ah, mom, I think it's funny when you time these things right when I'm ready to add to the pile. Little do you know, I've been holding it so I can surprise you. Can't wait 'til next time. Bet you won't be able to get the diaper down fast enough, though. He, he."

Things (Have I Already Used That Title?)

Besides Mike's bodybuilding competition, other things were going on this weekend. We had several friends and their kids join us at the show. It was awesome having all that support. Unfortunately, both the Zurchers and the Moodys had sickly babies. Tanner more so than Farrah. Farrah was struggling with, yet, another freakin' cold. Tanner was getting over having a double ear infection, a rash, and suddenly was dealing with spiking fevers and puffy swollen red eyes. Poor guy. And through all of that, he was still a perfect gentleman. Farrah just sounded like she was a pig because of all the snot in her nose and like she was gargling when she'd cry because of all the snot in her throat. Ewww. Saturday, after having lunch following the prejudging, we all decided to head back to the hotel and hit the pool. Mike couldn't get in because he still had his tanning color on his skin and had to wait until after the evening show to remove it. He had suggested that I let Farrah go in the pool with me. What?!! She doesn't have a suit. What if she shits in her diaper while in the pool? Is chlorine okay this young? Okay. I stripped her down and was very giddy about doing this with her. Mike was, too. The pool water was cold and I thought for sure she'd freak out the moment her toes hit the water, but no. She just kicked around. I bounced her up and down in the water and had her lie on her back in the water. That wasn't her favorite position, but she loved being dipped (not under water). Afterward, I removed her diaper and wrapped her up in a towel. I joined our friends in the hot tub. I sat on the first step and had her sit on my lap facing everyone. No, she wasn't in the hot water. The steam coming up from the tub into her towel kept her warm. She was completely content this entire time and never once crapped herself or me.

Farrah also got to experience her very first diaper rash. I was sure she'd never get one because Melissa and I are so careful. In fact, she and I had just talked about it on Wednesday how well we've been doing keeping her butt and goods all protected from a nasty rash. We patted ourselves on the back a little too soon. Thursday, when we were at the gym, Farrah pooed a lot and I didn't get to it right away. By right away, I mean within 20 minutes of it happening. I will take the blame for this one and I feel horrible for it. Farrah's poop was suddenly extremely acidic. So acidic, it ate through her skin on her goods and tush. When I went to clean her up, she cried. She never cries. When I saw that, I thought I was going to cry right along side with her. So terrible. It has since cleared up significantly. There is just a little evidence remaining. Cool wash cloths and caked on diaper rash cream helped clear it up in under a week. Yay. Back on Wednesday, Farrah tried cereal for the first time. We taped the whole thing. I'm going to venture out and guess that is why her poop chewed through her skin. A slight change in diet can really affect people sometimes. Ouch.

Great Achievements

This weekend was spent in Spokane for the 2007 Empire Classic Bodybuilding Competition. Mike was a competitor. He had competed in the Emerald Cup the weekend before which prepared him for what to do for this last weekend's competition. The Emerald Cup is the largest amateur bodybuilding competition in Washington state and the Empire Classic is the second largest. Weigh-in was Saturday morning at 8am and the prejudging began at 10am. There was no time to mess around with weight. Mike had spent all of Friday night dehydrating and getting his weight down. We brought the scale to keep tabs on how he was doing. In order to stay in a competitive weight class, he needed to stay no more than 176 pounds. He ended up weighing in at 175 and was able to make Middle Weight. That was a VERY big deal. When we finished weighing in, we went to have breakfast and carb up. He had blueberry pancakes drenched in sugar. This was to help him bulk up and get very vascular. It worked. He was all painted up and oiled down, went to the back of the stage to lift weights and get the blood moving. He was ready to play. When he walked up on stage, I was there as always, screaming my head off. I'm very loud at the shows. I consider myself to be one of his groupies and his biggest fan. There were several of us shouting out commands and coaching him. He looked A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!! There were 9 competitors in his class and everyone looked awesome. It was a tough group. Finally, the judges had everyone step back and called out 5 numbers; one of which was number 58...Mike. This was to get a better look at the top guys. Mike was in the group of the top guys!!! He had to of felt amazing when he heard his number called because we were all screaming and freaking out. They finished their posing and finally came off stage. Mike met up with us and we all congratulated him. We were able to find out later from one of the judges how he did. Well, he did awesome. Gordon told us he got 3rd place! 3rd out of 9 amazing looking men. It was so awesome. We went out for lunch, went to the hotel pool and got ready for the evening show. I decided to get myself all dolled up and look a little naughty for my husband. I wanted him to see me when he was up on the stage and be excited to get off the stage. When the time came for the announcements of who placed what, there was that little bit of doubt. What if Gordon lied? What if he truly didn't know what place Mike got and he was just guessing? When Mike was up on stage with the rest of the top 4 from his group, they announced who got 5th. Whew, it wasn't Mike. Then I got sick to my stomach. What if Mike got 4th? Then they announced 4th place. Not Mike. Finally, they announced 3rd. MIKE MOOOOODYYYY!!! We were all flipping out. It was so awesome to see that trophy handed to him. It was a very proud moment. When he was walking back to his group of friends, he was congratulated several times on his way. It was wonderful to watch. All that hard work and time spent paid off. Congratulations, honey. I'm so proud of you and am looking forward to painting and oiling you down again. I love you.

The Well is Running Dry

Whoa is me. My body has decided it is time to stop breastfeeding. I had intended to continue breastfeeding until the end of May. Mike and I are going to Vegas at the end of June and I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to spend my vacation pumping. Due to the fact that I am back at work full time, it has caused the milk production to slow down significantly. On top of that, I had to get on stronger BC pills and that slowed it down even more. Farrah has pushed me away a couple times, too because she wants instant gratification. It hit me last night how sad this is for me. I was talking to Mike at 3 in the morning and just started to cry about it. It is the last thing that is just between me and Farrah that I can't get back. Once it's done, it's done. I'd say I have about a week left of this bonding experience with my daughter. Mike reminded me that there will be several things that I will have with Farrah that no one else will have. It's hard to picture it right now because she doesn't talk, but it helped a little. There is a sadness that goes along with losing the ability to be the one and only person who can provide that one thing the child needs. Anyone can get a bottle. I don't want this to sound selfish, but I can't help it. Part of me wants my body back and to have it all to myself, but the other part of me still wants to hold on to that last piece of my experience. When you are pregnant, that child is relying souly on you. It's the same thing with breastfeeding. Don't get me wrong, I have been giving Farrah formula for a while now, but that was because of going back to work. Keep in mind, it was extremely hard for me to do that, too. I felt like I was depriving her of something. Now that it will be completely taken away from her, it makes my heart hurt. Ugh. (Lump in throat)

On another note, Farrah shared a small milestone today. I had been helping her with her teething ring by showing her how to wrap her fingers around it so she could grip it. I would then raise it up to her mouth so she would understand the connection. Well, this morning when I was getting ready to leave for work I noticed she had both hands wraped around the ring and was sucking on her toy. She did this all by herself. She figured it out without anyone's help. I was very excited about it.

Dear Farrah: Month 4

Happy 4 month birthday, sweetie! Wow, I can hardly believe how big you're getting. A year ago today is also the day that your Dad and I found out we were having you. I still have a picture of the pregnancy test stick that says "pregnant." My, you have really reached some crazy milestones lately, too. You have found your laugh. Both your Dad and I have found ways to make you laugh out loud. All I had to do was laugh real hard at you and you joined in. Your smile gets bigger and bigger everyday, just like the rest of you.


Your clothes are starting to get snug. Some of your newborn clothes you can still wear, but not for much longer. Those snaps are starting to hang on for dear life. You seem to love music. Almost every time I put some music on in the car, you start chatting up a storm. It's as if you're either singing along, or you're trying to talk over it so you don't have to listen. Last night, your Dad and I almost flipped out with a huge new thing you did. I was feeding you your 8pm bottle and I decided to try to allow you to hold it on your own. And guess what? You did it!!! You held your bottle! You even tilted up so you'd have no problems drinking. Your Dad rushed over to see and we were both very proud of you. You're so smart. For your first Easter, you received a new chair called the Bumble. It helps support your front and back so that you can practice sitting up. You seem to really enjoy it, too. I know it's time to take you out of it when you start to grunt. That means your neck is getting tired.




One of your new things is actually an old thing of yours that went away for a while. Your tongue. You stick it out at us like you're making faces at us. One day you did this so much, I started laughing really hard at you, and you started to laugh with me, which made me laugh even more.

We've learned a little trick to get you to relax and ultimately fall asleep. When you get fussy and all else fails, I simply hold you against my chest and gently tap you on the back and rock back & forth. You make little noises like you're humming when I do this. When you're completely quiet, I know I've won. And, Farrah, you are definitely showing signs that you are such a girl. If you're not getting your way, you let out a very high pitch squeal which is your way of whining. And so it begins. You also kick your feet when you whine. If you were standing up, you'd be stomping your feet. I suppose this is something we get to look forward to. Bath time is a little different now. You kick the water and splash like crazy. I can no longer walk away from bath time with dry clothes. Those days are gone. Finally, you had your very first sleep over so Daddy and I could play. Thank you, honey. You kept right on your schedule at Melissa's just like you do at home. Bedtime around 10:30 - 11:00 with your last bottle and then you wake up exactly at 4:00 am for your first feeding followed by the next feeding around 8:30 - 9:00 am. It's wonderful that you are so predictable. Your Daddy and I love you so much and can't believe how fast you're growing and how big you're getting. I will apologize in advance for the several shots you will be receiving on Friday for your 4 month check up. On a final note, you have inspired me to start a project. When this project is completed, I will share it with everyone, and of course, you, my muse.

I love you, Face.

Mama

Recovering

Mike and I had arranged for Melissa to watch Farrah for an overnight on Saturday so he and I could stay out as late as we wanted. The day started by waking up early in the morning and taking care of things around the house. Around noon, Mike, Nick, Farrah, and I met up with Alex at the mall for lunch. We split up to find some fun clothes for the parties we were going to that evening. After shopping, we hustled home. Mike headed off to the gym for a last minute workout and I started to pull myself together. We got Farrah all packed up and took off to Melissa's. We dropped off both Nick and Farrah and we gave big kisses goodbye. When I hopped into Mike's truck I said, "Oh my god, it's just us!!!" We drove to Jen's 30th Birthday party in Silver Lake and got stuck in an awful traffic jam. Ugh, stressful. When we arrived, most of everyone there had already been getting the party going for a while. It was fun. The food was great and I loved seeing everyone. Jen was having a blast. Unfortunately, we had to leave to get to the next destination. When we arrived, several people had already been there for a while, too. Mike and I fixed ourselves a drink. Ahhh, a cocktail. I finally got to drink alcohol without the fear of being too tipsy to care for Farrah. I had also already planned what the next day would be like so I wouldn't pass any booze onto her. I intended to drink a lot and have fun. I figured I'd let 24 hours pass before breast feeding her again. Well, in the end, Mike and I never ended up going to bed. We stayed up ALL NIGHT long and into the morning. So long, that we looked at the clock and said, "Holy shit, we need to get Farrah." Those that stayed at our friends house stayed up the whole night, too. I haven't pulled an all-nighter in years. So, we picked up Farrah. Don't worry, we were beyond sober. The unfortunate thing was she wanted to be awake. I wanted to sleep. Her naps were teasers. She would sleep for approximately 20 minutes at a time. She was up until it was time for all of us to go to bed. I couldn't put her down too early or it would screw up her schedule. So, I was basically up from 8 in the morning on Saturday until 11 at night on Sunday. Yikes. Monday, I "cleansed" to get all the bad stuff out of my body. Not only was I exhausted, I was starving. 'Tis the price you pay when you want to have fun and you have a baby. Check out the evidence of a good time that was had:








Clearly, it has been a while since I partied my ass off.

Mmmmm

Today, as a matter of fact, 10 minutes ago, I experienced something that all parents at one time or another have the privilege to experience. After a light lunch, Farrah and I decided to play. She was lying on her back on my bed and I was bending over to kiss her on each cheek. I would go down kiss her about 5 times real fast while making "mommy" sounds and then I'd go to the next cheek doing the same thing. She was even lucky enough to get the loves on the forehead. I had done this about 5 or 6 times when I finally reached the left cheek again and suddenly tasted something. Yes, my daughter had spit up from all the fun directly into my mouth. Ewwwwww. The astonishing thing was that I did not follow suit and spit up myself. I simply grabbed the burp cloth and wiped my tongue down and wiped her mouth. I actually laughed at this. Anyway, I hope none of you were eating when you read this. Kinda gross, huh? I'm going to go play with her again. Hopefully she got it all out the first time.

He knows what to say

I have been working my ass off at the gym and eating well lately. It has helped that Mike has been getting ready for a body building competition because when he has to eat clean, the rest of us have to, too. He has been very supportive in me getting back to the 'old me' and it has been nice. The other day when he and I were leaving the gym together, he told me that he had been checking me out while we were there. How great is that? The man I've been with for almost 10 years is checking me out! Sometimes it's little comments like that, that can increase the marital flame. Thank you, Mike.

On another note, my sister-in-law posted a blog that I thought was supper awesome and in it she posted the site for a YouTube cartoon. Well, with the dieting that Mike and I have been doing, a friend shared this one with me. For those who diet, it is perfect. It's super funny and weird, too. I laughed my ass off. Check it out:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWXUi8fOJA4 - 91k

P.S. If you want to see Evie's Blog it's eviegraham.blogspot.com

Happy Fertility Day!

Mike and I learned that Easter was originally a day that was to celebrate fertility. That is where the Bunny came from (because they do it a lot) and why there are decorated eggs. No, the Bunny doesn't lay the eggs. The Cadburry Egg commercials, however, used to freak me out when it showed the Bunny "clucking" and then hopping away after laying an egg. What the hell?!! I didn't know they could communicate that way nor that they could push that out of their body. Delicious. Anyway, we celebrated Easter or Fertility Day, whichever you prefer, with a wonderful meatloaf, scalloped potatos, and sweet carrots. No ham. Already had that on Saturday. Well, here are some overly obsessive pictures of my daughter's first Fertility Day.

Birthdays

So, today is Nick's 13th Birthday!!! I can hardly believe it. What a huge milestone for that kid. I honestly wasn't sure he'd make it this far before his mom, his dad, or even I ended up killing him. Way to go, buddy. You have managed to survive yet another year. I'm an ass for not mentioning it earlier, but my other stepson, Alex, just turned 18. What a big year for both boys. One is an official teenager and one is an official adult. Freakin' crazy. Happy Birthday Nick & Alex. Here are the boys.

Gross Inspections

You know you've entered into the true role of motherhood when you find yourself picking the nose of your child or lifting her high over your head to smell her butt to see if she crapped herself. Things I'd see other moms do and cringe when I'd see it. Who wants to touch another human beings boogers and smell another person's poop? ME! THAT's WHO!!! That's all I felt like saying.

Decompress

Mike and I have a second home in East Wenatchee. It is our "Decompression House." It is where we go to do nothing at all, but forget about all the bullshit that awaits for our return back on the west side of the mountains. We have our big screen TV there, but no cable. There is no internet access and no phone lines. It sounds like it would be completely boring...until you look out at our back yard. We have the most amazing view of the city. The back yard goes on forever and ever. I am inviting my friends and family to go there when they would like. You just need to make sure it's not a weekend that we plan on going there. There are board games there, and the TV has a stereo and DVD player hooked up to it. All you have to do is bring your movies and music and you're all set. We invite people to enjoy a little piece and quiet away from everything. It feels like you're in a cabin, only you're in a quaint neighborhood. The weather is always beautiful and there is always a nice breeze. We hope to install a pool, but we're not sure when that will happen. There are still priorities that take precidence back in Arlington.

We went to Wenatchee this last weekend. I loved it. Sometimes we'd watch a movie and other times we'd sit there reading. A lot of times, we simply slept and caught up on some much needed rest. It was Farrah's first time at the house. We left the play pen for future visits so we don't have to cart it around with us everytime. Being there allowed for us to spend more one on one time with her. When we're at home on the weekends, it's so easy to get caught up in having to do chores and run errands that you forget to take time for family. That's what this weekend was for. Family time, and we all loved it. We also brought Titan with us. We don't usually allow people to bring their pets due to the risk of other pets peeing on the carpet which has happened. We didn't want to leave Titan at home so we packed him in his crate for the 2 and a half hour drive through pouring down rain. It was a white knuckle drive until we reached Leavenworth. After that it wasn't too bad. When we arrived, Titan barely had a mist on him. We walked him around the property and the next day took him off leash in the back field. He was in Doggie Heaven. The tough thing for him was his nerves. He was so nervous, he chose not to eat. Since he didn't eat, he didn't poop. He held it until we pulled in to our house in Arlington to relieve the pressure. It was so great over there and we all enjoyed ourselves. Can't wait to go back!

Progress

As many, or all of you know, Mike's uncle, Bill, had a massive stroke back in January. He has been staying at a rehab facility in Everett for about a month and a half now and is getting ready to be transferred to stay in Arizona with his daughter. We are really hoping the change of scenary will do him good, as well as a nice climate change. Farrah and I have been visiting him at least once a week to check on his progress and to simply say hi. He loves seeing her. It really seems to brighten up his day. Every time I go there, it seems like there's a change for the better. The first time I saw a big change that I thought was great, was when he used the word, "shit." This was very significant, because of Bill's inability to communicate. For a while there, he could only say a handful of words, mainly yes and no. Now, when he tries to tell us something and gets stuck, he simply says, "shit" and that's all we need to hear to understand his frustration. It's a very good release for him. Last week, however, was probably the biggest break through. Farrah and I were sitting next to him and I was bouncing her on my knee and she was smiling very big at Bill. The whole time, Bill would coo at her and make noises. He heard me saying little things to her and suddenly, Bill formed a whole sentence!!! He said, "Look at that face." Can you believe it?!!! I just about fell out of my chair. I flipped out and said, "Holy shit, Bill! Did you just hear what you said?!!!" He shrugged it off and said, "yeah, but." That's all he got out. I asked him if he felt like the words just came out on their own, and he said yes. I reminded him that even if they just slipped out, they were the correct words to use in that moment. It was awesome. Well, lastnight we stopped by to see him again. Someone had helped him to the bathroom, but he managed to take care of business, get himself back in his wheelchair, open the bathroom door, and wheel himself out of his room to the hallway to meet me and Farrah. I was so impressed. We wheeled back to his room and got to his bed. He started to unfold his bed sheet and I asked if he wanted me to go ahead and do it. Yes. I thought maybe he wanted to use the sheet to go over him when he got into bed. He said, "No, make..." MAKE! New word! He pointed to the bed and said, "make." He asked me to make the bed. Done! Then there was the heavy blanket. It was very hot in the room so I assumed that he would want the blanket at the foot of his bed. I asked him and he said, "No, put..." and pointed up and down the bed. "Do you want me to lay the blanet out so it can cover you?" "Yes." YAY!!! We were fully communicating. To some, this may seem so trivial, but it was extremely exciting. With as little communicating as we can get out of him, it's so great when we can get something. I asked if he remembered saying, "Look at that face" and he did. He didn't shrug it off this time. He's noticing his own progress which is so important. I think it helps give him some hope that there will be some independence and communication at the end off this rough road. We can't wait to get Bill back. And I'm pretty confident that we will.

Dear Farrah Part 3

Holy cow, you're 3 months old today!!! You have your second cold and this one is not as friendly as the last one. You're so congested. When you breath, you sound like a pig. I've been using the little suction bulb on you, and at first you don't mind, but then as I start getting a rhythm going, you start to cry. This, of course, makes me feel like crap because I made you cry. However, I guess you got even with me by passing your virus onto me. Thanks for that. I've been propping you up to allow the mucus to flow out of your face rather than out your ass. Yeah, about that...you pooped snot. Twice. I thought for sure there was something terribly wrong with what I was seeing in your diaper, so I called the doctor. He said it was a common thing since babies don't know to blow their noses, they just swallow the snot. It's kinda gross, but makes perfectly good sense. You've been sleeping A LOT due to not feeling well. And that makes me feel bad for you. However, like the last time you were under the weather, you still give your dad and I that bright smile that says "everything's okay even when I feel like crap."

One of the neat things about you being 3 months old are the fun clothes I get to start putting you in. I haven't been able to put you in some of your "outfits" until recently. You are just now fitting in the 0-3 months clothes. You're so tiny that you still fit in your newborn clothes. Not for too much longer, though. This month you've worn two dresses and three pairs of pants. That's quite the change from your usual onesies and pajamas. We did have one weird moment when we put you in a dress and took you out to a restaurant with us. I figured we were finally going to go out for a nice dinner and figured I'd put you in a pretty red dress your Grandma Jan bought you. In my mind, I assumed this would also help people decipher whether you were a boy or a girl. The first person who looked in your carrier asked us, "How old is he? How big was he when he was born?" Your father responded with, "Well, HE is a SHE" and he continued to answer her questions from there. This was weird to us, because everything about you screams, GIRL.



Yesterday, I went through your room and started to "nest" again. I have hated how I organized things when you were on your way here. Since I had figured how I liked things to be, I had to rearrange your clothes. In doing so, I came across a whole bunch of clothes you can no longer wear. Those items would be any and all of your preemie clothes. Not only that, but the hats and clothes the hospital provided. Since your dad and I are sentimental idiots and don't feel comfortable throwing anything away that has anything connected to you, we will be saving those items. That means, when you read this when you're older, you will know exactly what I'm writing about because you will actually get to see them.

Every week your talking skills get stronger and stronger. Also, you've started to learn how to scream. It's actually a cross between a scream and a squeal. It usually starts before a cry and sometimes before you begin whining and then talking. You move your tongue around and try to tell me about your day. Not only does your mouth move, but you have several facial expressions to accompany your story and make it more complete and believable. You are able to lift your left eye brow while leaving the right one in a relaxed position. This is something that I can do and your father can do. This is your "I'm planning something evil and I'll be sure to leave it for you in my diaper" look.



Your new best friends are Left Hand and Right Hand. They constantly take up residence in your mouth. It seems that you've started to learn that they actually serve a purpose. When I give you your pacifier, your hands quickly head straight for the mouth and assist in keeping it in place. You have just recently started doing the same with your bottle. You aren't strong enough to hold it in place, but you seem to be quite aware that you can certainly help balance it.

You have discovered TV. Don't worry, it will not become your babysitter. You seem to really enjoy baby Einstein. And then there's your smile. I can't help but talk about it all the time. Your smile is SO BIG. I LOVE IT!!! The way you smile is almost too much for me. When you first see me or your dad, you smile really big, turn your head to the side, and almost in a bashful manner, pull your hands up to your face and hide. After that it's just constant ear to ear grinning. You already have some amazing smile lines around your eyes. That's a good sign. Smile lines are much more flattering that frown lines. However, you do frown sometimes, too. It's almost an expression of deep thought. Could be pooping, though. Well, you're starting to make a creaking door sound which means I need to head over and prevent the inevitable screaming. I can hardly believe you are already a quarter of a year old. Crazy.

I love you, Face.

Mama

It's sad...

Well, it has come time for me to make a very difficult decision. It's something that I hope I can get a little help with, too. I need to find a better home for Titan. He is not getting the attention he needs and deserves. I have become too overwhelmed with my new baby that my old baby has taken a back seat. While working full time, taking care of a newborn, and hitting the gym, my dog doesn't get to go for walks, go for drives, and the back yard suffers in not getting cleaned up. It's basically like taking care of two kids and it is very hard. I know there are several people out there that have probably managed to make it work, but I don't have things set up for him to be able to play like I know he'd like to. For this, I feel like shit because I absolutely love that dog, but I love him enough to know that he's not happy and he deserves to be because he's such a great dog. I'm hoping that those that read this might know someone who would like to have a good family dog. He's a very good dog. He went through puppy classes and knows the basic commands (sit, stay, down, come or wait). He's been socialized with other dogs and the groomers love him because he's one of the easiest large dogs to bathe because he's so cooperative. Titan needs a home with a yard large enough to run around in (fenced), a loving family, someone to walk him, and just give him their heart. He is not an aggressive dog so if someone is looking for a bad ass killer, Titan is not it. If any of you out there can help me with this, I'd really appreciate it. Please remember that this is a very difficult thing for me and I already feel like shit about it. It has made me feel a little like a failure as a dog owner and mommy of Titan. This is a decision that I've been fighting for quite sometime and saw coming when I was 7 months pregnant. Please help if you can.

Thank you.

Photo Nazi

Last month, Farrah had her newborn baby pictures taken. She is very photogenic and quite the little model. It was a fun experience and I was lucky enough to have used a photographer that had a digital camera so I could get a sneak peek at what the pictures would look like. Well, for the past couple weeks, the person who sells the pictures has been trying to schedule a time to meet up with me to place my order. We finally touched base last night and scheduled a meeting today from 12:30 to 1:30 with the hopes that maybe Mike could attend.

I rushed out of work and made it home at exactly12:30 with my daughter. It was her lunch time as well as mine, so I fed her while I waited. I waited, and then waited some more. I called her twice and she didn't answer her phone. At 1:00, she finally arrived. I was a little irritated, needless to say, since I don't like to go over my lunch break time too much and I was now left with 30 minutes. I knew I would just have to arrive later at work to realistically do this.

The lady went over the deals with me and shared how great their pictures were. And they were, but the prices weren't. I felt I was buying photos with little pieces of gold inserted into the paper. The package that had the works which included a framed 10 x 25 photo (or something like that), a 20 x somthing, all the photos in 5 x 7, all the photos in wallet size, a CD, and some other stuff. That was $800!!! WTF?! She went down the list and everything she said went in one ear and out the other. I just stopped listening. Like hell if I was going to spend that kind of money. The cheapest package: 3 - 5 x 7s and 1- 8 x 10 and that was $175. When she was finished, I told her that there was no way that I was pulling out my checkbook to pay for any of this. I needed to speak to my husband about it and see what we could do. They didn't offer anything where you could simply order the individual items you wanted; you had to purchase a package. She kept saying I thought your husband was going to be here. You said he would be here. In fact, I never did say that at all. I told her he would try to be here.

She didn't have any brochures and told me that she wasn't able to come out again and this would be the only time we could purchase. I was pissed off. I told her I thought the prices were outragious and I didn't think that there were any good deals in what she was offering. She then stated that if I wanted to go have photos done at Walmart to get a better deal, that was always an option but I wouldn't get near the quality. I said I'm not looking at buying crap either, I simply felt she needed to have it set up differently so people didn't feel like they had to buy on the spot. Had I known that was how it was going to be, I would have gone a different direction for our pictures. She then told me I probably should've asked her how the sales pitch would go when I was on the phone with her in the first place. Our friendly, yet not friendly bantering went back and forth for a good ten minutes while she packed her stuff to leave.

Finally, she took a deep breath and made me an offer that made a whole lot more sense than the BS she was trying to sell. She basically tied in one of the middle packages that are usually $500 and sold it to me at the $200 price. I'm not stupid. I know her packing her stuff to leave was part of her act to get me to break and ultimately have her finally give me the true offer. I believe they set it up to see if there are idiots there that would pay these horrible prices thinking this is the best they can get and that they're stuck losing their newborn's pictures if they don't. That's what pissed me off. I was ready to open the door and send her on her way without any pictures of Farrah, but it would've killed me. It's not like I could go back a month and get those shots again. She was already bigger than she was then.

The company was called "Growing Family". Do NOT buy from them. They are in the business of extortion. They hire people who don't have children to basically hold the photos of your babies hostage for an outragious ransom. If the sales people did have children of their own, they would be considered the devil. Shame on that company for putting several families through hell to get the pictures of their kids. They know we love our children like crazy so it makes us weak when it comes to spending money. Most of us have just written big checks for hospital bills, formula, diapers, and doctor appointments. Bastards.

Stuff

I haven't written in quite a while. I suppose there hasn't been a whole lot going on lately that I felt compelled to share with everyone. It seems that every time I write something, it's usually about Farrah, but I can't help it. She's still new and the "newness" hasn't quite worn off yet. Anyone who knows me, knows when I have someone special in my life that I am completely obsessed about, I usually talk about them all...the...time. For example, Mike. People at my work probably think I consider him my Lord because of how often I talk about him. Every person at every place I've ever worked at for the past 10 years, knows all there is to know about Mike Moody. I guess it's a pride thing. I'm proud of my relationship with my husband. He's my best friend and we have an awesome bond. Our relationship is unique and special. The other reason that I share about my husband and daughter so much is to make me feel less away from them. If I talk about them often, then I don't feel like I only get to see them for a small percentage of the day. It helps me miss them less.

Okay, now to talk about some things I've been up to. I've been hitting the gym religiously for the past few weeks and working my ass off. I've been altering my eating habits a bit to make sure that I keep a healthier life style and give Farrah more nutrients and my butt less fat. Mike plans to train me next month and part of me is excited about it while the rest of me is nervous. I really don't want to be pushed to the point of almost puking at the gym. It would be pretty embarrassing. I visit Bill and my parents as often as I can. It's very difficult to get out sometimes because it seems like there just isn't enough time in a day. It looks as though Uncle Bill will be transferred to Arizona to live with his daughter who is able to give him the constant care that he needs that, unfortunately, none of us have the ability at this time to do all that needs to be done for him. We will miss him while he's gone but we intend to make trips out there to see him. The goal is to get him back home to live on his own. Hopefully, that can be achieved in the next 6 months. I'm looking forward to daylight savings time so I can get out more. It just seems harder to do much of anything when it's dark. Well, anyway, this has been a pretty boring entry so I think I'll end it now while I'm ahead.

Crying Over Spilt Milk (and everything else)

Farrah is a cry baby. Not more than the average baby, but not necessarily less either. Sometimes I watch her when she cries and wonder what life would be like if I acted like her. For instance, if the pacifier she has been sucking on for a mere 10 seconds falls out of her mouth (mind you, she did it to herself by pushing it out with her tongue), the waterworks begin. Not only are the tears streaming but there is howling that goes along with it. She stops almost instantly once I put it back in her mouth, just to start up again when she pushes it back out. Picture, if you will, me at work. I've typed up a contract and just finished printing it. I go to grab the paper and it suddenly, without warning, falls out of my grip and sadly drops to the floor below about three inches from my hand. First, my vision gets blurred by tears starting to form, followed by shallow breaths. Suddenly, I begin to scream and cry while kicking my feet around and throwing my arms up in the air and waving them around. A kind co-worker quickly comes to my aid and picks up this sad piece of paper off the floor and gently hands it to me. I stop my crying and smile. Unfortuately, as I take the paper and go to put in on my desk, it slips from my grip and the tantrum once again begins. If I honestly thought I could get away with that, I would probably do it everyday and more likely than not, thoroughly enjoy it. However, I'm pretty sure after the first tantrum, I would be asked to leave the premises immediately. Babies, on the other hand, get away with this well into their toddler days. And we as parents, keep falling into their trap. As Mike refers to it, a baby's shrieks are like nails along a chalk board. Her cries make me sad and crazy all at once. Last night, we had a very interesting cry. Farrah was lying in her co-sleeper sucking away on her pacifier perfectly content when all of the sudden, I sneezed. Her eyes were big with surprise, but no reaction. Whew. Then out of the blue, another sneeze. This time, Farrah's eyes closed tight and her pouty mouth was wide open with no sound coming out. Oh, God, here it comes. I scared the shit out of her with my second explosive sneeze. The scream-cry followed the long drawn out silent-cry. I quickly picked her up and tried to console her by bouncing her around, telling her it was okay, that I was sorry, and giving her a couple shhhhs. Again, what if I behaved this way in my daily life? You know when you're outside on a walk and someone honks their horn? You get startled, right? Would you sit there and scream bloody-murder? Probably not. I know I sound terrible making fun of her, but mind you, every time she even lets out a slight whimper, it tugs hard at my heart strings. That is why when she has spit her pacifier out for the 20th time in a matter of 10 minutes, crying each time, I will always rush to her rescue and put that silly piece of plastic and rubber back in her mouth to keep her happy. She has figured me out. And even though it can make getting ready in the morning very difficult, I'm happy if she's happy.

Good God, NO!!!

Yesterday, I stayed home and took care of myself and the baby because of our nasty little colds. Pretty much the whole day, I chose not to watch any TV and just take it easy and get plenty of rest. Towards the end of the day I decided to put on a movie with our nifty little "On Demand" feature. One of the movies that was available was, "Clambake." Sounds filthy doesn't it? It's not. It's an Elvis Presley movie. I figured I'd put a cheesy movie on in the background while I did the dishes and worked on the computer for a while. Something a little innocent for my daughter to gaze at. Well, it didn't take long for my gag reflexes to start kicking in. I knew there was a reason I didn't exist during those days. I would've jumped off the closest bridge had that been the type of entertainment I'd have to live with.

Here are the scenes that I watched:

Elvis and some dude were driving down the road; Elvis on a motorcycle and the dude in a sports car. They were singing about how it's great to have money and how it's great to not have it. Okay, I get the point, but must it go on for 5 minutes? That's a long time for two men to be singing to each other while on the road.

Another scene was at the actual Clambake. Elvis started singing about the Clambake party he was at and out of the blue he grabbed an electric guitar and started to play. The weird thing was that the electric guitar played piano music. Is that what electric guitars sounded like back then?

There was also a scene with Elvis and a bunch of kids at a playground. He was singing a song about confidence. This horrible event went on for a good 10 minutes. 10 MINUTES!!! To drag the song out even more, he slowly spelt the word, "confidence." He'd say the letter 'C' and talk about it and then sing, 'confidence'. Then everyone ran around playing cowboys and indians. Not very PC if you ask me.

Finally, Elvis was in a boat shop putting a lacquer finish on a boat. His buddy walked into the shop and Elvis got mad and said, "You were supposed to be here two hours ago to help me get ready for the big race!" "Hey, man" his pal said, "I told you I'd be here for you and here I am!" Suddenly, two girls rush in wearing bikinis and they start dancing real hard. So hard, I was waiting for their noses to start bleeding. They were shimmying all over the place and doing the mashed potato and the twist up and down the stairs until they reached Elvis's boat. Suddenly, 4 more women walked in through some upper back doorway and start dancing seriously hard down the stairs. The whole time, Elvis was bopping his head.

I'm pretty sure, if I ever walked into some place in a bikini and started dancing and there was no music in the room (because you know they dubbed the music in later while in the editing room), I'd be locked away. I'd also probably get that bloody nose I was talking about.

In any case, it sounds like I watched the whole movie, which I did not. It was on in the back ground, but anytime music started I felt compelled to take a peak. Bad decision on my part. Oh, Elvis.

Dear Farrah #2

I was too lazy to write anything on Sunday for your two month Birthday. Does that make me a bad mother? I'm going to say no, because I chose to spend as much time with you as possible. Writing about it just slipped my mind. Okay, so some little milestones you've made lately...you smile when you recognize me and your father. When you do recognize us, you greet us with a big warm smile. You smile at us very big and your dimples come to life. In fact, I've noticed that you don't only have one dimple on both cheeks, but you have two on both cheeks. The big deep dimples are in the middle of each cheek and you have two little ones at the corners of your lips. Too cute. You had pictures taken by a photographer last week. Can hardly wait to see those. You are currently suffering through your first cold. On Friday, the 16th, your Grandma Rita watched you for the first time. According to her, you were well behaved, but that's because you slept most of the time. You find your voice more and more each day. You talk A LOT. A couple days ago, you actually said, "Goo Goo." Funny. You had your first taste of Daycare with Melissa yesterday. I was depressed for a while about it, but I knew you were in good hands. The wonderful thing was when I came to pick you up, you recognized me as soon as you saw me and said hello with a smile and those fabulous dimples. It was worth being away just to see that smile. Everyday, I repeat, "Mama" to you so you can start associating words and their identities. I know it will be a while before you say them, but it's smart to start early.

I love you, Sweet Face.

Mama

Sickly

So, it finally happened. I managed to thwart off catching a cold and/or the flu for over a year, and BAM! I caught a cold from one of the many sick bastards around me yesterday. (Mike, it may not have been from you. I'll blame it on Nick) Since I have a cold, that means that Farrah does, too. Crap. Luckily, her cold isn't too bad. I just hope she doesn't have the same sore throat that I have. One good thing, though. I tend to get rid of a cold or flu very quickly. I jump on the drugs and vitamins immediately and get plenty of rest. I also tend to use the whole mind over matter trick and the ailment escapes me within a day or two. Which is good considering I just started up at work again yesterday. I'm sure they're thinking I'm faking it so I could squeeze in another day with the baby.

Farrah's first cold. So cute, and yet so sad. She sneezes, it seems, every half hour to hour. She also periodically coughs. Nothing chesty though. I had called her doctor yesterday to see if I should switch her check up appointment scheduled for Friday to today, but they said she sounded like she was okay. I agree. I think it's worse for me because she's getting all the virus killing potion from my boobs. When Farrah sneezes or coughs, it sounds so adorable. Is that wrong of me to think that way? They're such petite noises, they're precious. She doesn't appear to be uncomfortable because she smiles after she releases the explosions out of her face. I will put a picture of "Sick Farrah" here to document her first ailment. Are you convinced she's under the weather? Yeah...her red nose and red eyes give it away.

Whaaa...

My constant all day long one on one time with Farrah is going to be coming to an unfortunate end. It is time for me to go back to work. I hate it. I love my job and the people I get to work with, but the idea of being pulled away from her and potentially missing any of her "firsts" breaks my heart. This week I will be working part time to try to integrade back into the work force and the following week I will be full time. : ( I get a sick and sad pain in my stomach when I think about it. I hope that there will be a way for me to eventually work from home from time to time. I know I told people at work that I wouldn't become that overly obsessive mother who had pictures of her kid all over the place, but I think I lied. In order for me to survive separation, I will have pictures of her everywhere. EVERYWHERE. I will put her on my screensaver, I'll make a Farrah calendar, I will make a Farrah collage, Farrah video to play on my computer, Farrah everything. It will feel weird not to have her in front of me at all times. I have to make up for it somehow.

Most Popular Girls at the Party

The Seattle Home Show started today. Mike's booth is all set up and the guys are ready for a big year for 2007. I love going to the Home Show and being a part of the "Family Business." Farrah and I decided that we would go and visit her dad and check things out. I got her all dressed up and cute for her dad. She wore a little white long sleeved onesie with ruffles on the back. She also wore socks and a head band. She never wears head bands, but I thought I'd make a special exception. When we arrived at Quest Field, it began. It seemed like we were approached by anyone and everyone. The guy operating the elevator, the people on the elevator, the people checking tickets, and all the vendors until I reached Mike's booth. Then Mike took her out of her stroller and we walked around to show her to people we know. We, of course, got all the ooohs and ahhhs from our friends. There were several that didn't even know that we were expecting and so they were very surprised.

Later, I had to take her to be fed and to change her. I had to have been stopped 10 different times my first trip to the restroom by people who either recognized me and complete strangers to ask me about her. At the booth, we were asked so many times by people passing by about her. The comments constantly made were: "How old is she? Oh, I have a (insert relation and age here). The time goes by so fast. Remember these times, because they'll be gone before you know it. I can hardly remember when (insert name and/or relation here) was that little." Ahh. I'm so glad that I have a camera to capture as much as we do. I keep hearing about how it will go by before a blink of an eye. On that note, I will insert pictures that help capture a couple of sweet and funny memories from yesterday.

I took several pictures while changing her because she always smiles and laughs when she gets changed. I captured a wonderful picture of her smiling. After that, she decided to get fussy and then full on pissed off. I chose to take a picture of me making fun of her crying. I know I'm mean, but I think it's funny. She'll thank me for it when she's older.

Doing My Part

I just finished writing to the Washington State Department of Transportation. Tonight, there was yet another fatality on I-5 by our house. There has now been, I believe 5 fatalities in the last 3-4 years. That is ridiculous. The last time there was a fatality, I wrote to the DOT and they quickly responded. Mind you, they did not send out a mass email to me and everyone else who wrote. The woman who responded wrote to me and mentioned my personal concerns. I was glad at the time that I had written. Now, I have written again and I hope I get a response again. Only this time, I hope they respond with the right answer. The right answer is to put up concrete barriers rather than those stupid cables that are supposed to stop a vehicle going 60+ mph from crossing over to oncoming traffic. Anyone else who lives in this area, please send a message to the DOT that white knuckle driving through Marysville on I-5 is unacceptable.

Tonight, I crawled through traffic from Everett all the way to Arlington. That drive is usually a 40 minute commute. Tonight it was 2 hours. Keep in mind, I had an 8 week old baby in the back screaming that she wanted some boobie that I could not provide. I thought it would be dangerous to pull to the side of the freeway and feed her. So, I periodically got to hear her scream at me. I felt horrible. I constantly had to remove my seatbelt, keep one hand on the steering wheel, and stretch and reach for her pacifier and stick it back in her mouth. Luckily we weren't driving any faster than one of those dogs whose back legs were paralized, pulling himself on a makeshift doggie wheel chair. Does that sentence make sense? I read it about 5 times and I think I put down what I wanted to say, but quite honestly I'm so exhausted from that drive, someone speaking jibberish would make sense to me. The entire drive was pretty miserable, but what can you do? Now, I remember why I hardly ever head South.

Hil-Larry-Us

The other day, I was filming my daughter. It's a little new obsessive habbit I have, that and taking pictures of the same pose 20 times. She was sitting in her swing, or lying there, and I wanted to film her sticking out her tongue. The moment she was born, her tongue was out of her mouth. She constantly sticks it out. It's as if she is saying, "mmla, mmla, mmla" over and over. Can you picture what I'm saying? In any case, it's funny. So, to try and document her doing this, I put her in her swing and hit record. The video is about 2 minutes long (I wish I could post it on this blog for you to see). For the first minute and 45 seconds she is just lying there making various noises and faces to match. Her tongue sticks out every once in a while. Then the climax. She makes a frowny face, turns red, and you hear the explosion in her pants. Immediately following the loud noise, the expression on her face turns from relief to pure disgust. The look of horror of what she just did is very apparent. It's as if she is saying, "Oh my frickin' God, did I just do that?!!! I'm the most disgusting person on the planet and I can't believe how bad I smell!!!" Serious. If you have access to MySpace, check out my site and look for the video. You WILL laugh. If you don't, then you don't have a sense of humor. If you can't get to my MySpace, email me at kathyemoody@earthlink.net or kmoody@platinumpnw.com and ask me to send it to you. It's quite the masterpiece of filming.

Another fun moment...Farrah's bowels have become explosive. Really. There have been a couple of times when there has been a small amount of baby poo around the edges of her diapers at her legs and some on her back. It hasn't been too bad, thank god. Only enough to make a small stain. Well, the other day I was playing with her. She was sitting on my lap facing me while I bounced her up and down and had a "baby talk" conversation with her. Suddenly, she grunted and pooped. No big deal, right? It wasn't until 5 minutes later that I realized what had happened. I needed to take her upstairs to change her. I picked her up and my legs felt wet. That's because they were. Wet with poop and pee. This wasn't your typical blow-out situation. I just happened to use a different diaper earlier because I thought she was big enough to finally use Huggies Preemies for giant babies. Does that make sense? It doesn't make sense to me either. They are made for preemies. Preemies. Aren't preemies small? These diapers are made for a 15-20 pound baby. I put these ridiculously large diapers on Farrah and she was brewing up an explosion in her intestines. It was the perfect storm. So, you'd think the first thing I would do is quickly take her upstairs and clean her up and clean myself up. Of course, the first thing that I did was call Mike. I sat there with Farrah in my arms and her shit on my lap to tell her dad how funny it was. Usually, when you think of the term "Blow Out" it is a positive thing. You know, like a "Blow Out" sale. It makes me think of a huge opportunity to buy furniture or a car. No, baby blow outs aren't usually a positive thing. The only opportunity there is the opportunity to use that new bottle of stain remover that you've been keeping on stand by for the past few weeks.

Uncle Bill

I know it's been a long time since I last wrote, but there has been a lot going on. Recently, Mike's uncle Bill had a massive stroke. It has been devastating for the family. Bill was one of Mike's best men at our wedding. They have a very close bond and are best friends. We've had family fly in and friends fly in to give Bill support. We have high hopes for a speedy recovery and appreciate any good thoughts and prayers for Bill.