Ugggg

I am at home right now while the rest of the family is off to Great Grandma Eve's Birthday party. Last night, the stomach flu that has whipped through the gym landed in my gut. On four separate occasions, I had the joy of violently vomiting into my disgusting toilet. It certainly put a perspective as to how dirty my bathroom was. I believe looking, really looking at my toilet bowl probably helped expedite the process of hurling. Every time I put something on my stomach, I regretted it later. Sometimes your favorite foods can become your enemy. After each episode, my body hurt SO BAD. Every bone, tendon, muscle, and all of my skin hurts. My freakin' cheek bones hurt! So, Farrah and her Dad left to go to the birthday party while I have chosen to hang back so not to be the ass hole that gets everyone sick. I intend to stop typing and pull myself upstairs into my bed and get some much needed rest. I honestly wouldn't mind if the flu moved from my stomach down to my intestines. It would give one end of my body a bit of a break.

No Immunity

I just puked my brains out. Thanks, Farrah.

Puke

Farrah now has a touch of the stomach flu. I went to wake her up this morning to find her in a pile of barf. She stood up, reached for me and started to cry. It was heartbreaking and smelly all at the same time. There is, indeed, a difference between spit up and barf, fo' sho'. I picked her up and bathed her while her Dad put her bedding in the wash. Scrubbing the barf out of her hair was quite the task. Not only was I having to pick out pieces of last night's dinner, I had to massage the shampoo in her hair until I could get the smell out, only that never happened. Her hair was super stinky. Her spirits were up and she was her usual self. I figured she must have eaten something that didn't agree with her. Wrong assumption. She spent time with me at work and was just tired and not hungry. I decided to take her home and pick up some lunch on the way. When we were literally one block from my house when she started to cry. A couple seconds later, "AGGHHHH"! She barfed all over herself while she shed some tears. It was so sad to watch her this way. My car instantly filled up with vomit stench. Mike met me at home and helped clean things up. What a trooper! She was all cleaned up and herself again. I pumped her full of Pedialite and am getting ready to serve her some chicken broth. She doesn't have much of an appetite, but I don't blame her. So, there it is. Farrah has had two stinky days in a row. Don't worry I called the doctor and she'll be just fine.

Turd

I was warned that it could happen. I have been told horror stories time and time again. I don't think they truly prepared me for the event that I was presented with today. Lately, I have been getting up early to get ready for the day and if I'm lucky, Farrah is still asleep when I put that final coat of mascara on. However, there are the days when she is awake with me and decides to hang out in the bathroom with me. So, to help keep her occupied while I put on my make up and do my hair, I let her have some fun in the bath tub. Well, today I was doing my thing and noticed her just standing there. My rule is that she needs to be sitting in the tub. I told her twice to sit and she wouldn't do it and she just stared at me and smiled. So, I picked her up and made her sit in her bubble bath. When I did this, she started to whine. She picked up one of her toys in the bath water to show to me. At least I thought it was a toy. The water was so bubbly I didn't notice what it was until it surfaced. I squealed, "PUT THAT DOWN!!!" which made her start to cry. Now I knew why she was so upset. When I made her sit down in the tub, I was actually making her sit down in what she was trying to avoid in the first place. Her shit. My daughter crapped in the bath. My daughter does not like to be dirty. And unfortunately, my daughter doesn't give many warning signs when she's gotta go. She picked up a giant "Farrah turd" to show me as her way of saying, "Look Mom, the reason I was standing up and ignoring your requests is because you decided to remove my diaper and place me in here approximately 5 minutes too soon. So, here is what happens when I don't have a way to communicate with you that I was prairie dogging. Poop is what happens." I placed her on her towel while I drained the crappy tub. However, while I was trying to take care of that, she wasn't quite done. She's so freakin' quiet!!! I cleaned her up...again. I scoured the tub and started a new bath. She was so tired of bath time by the time she was a clean, she whined and whined until I put her down for her nap. It must have been horribly exhausting for her; pooping and all.

911 Junkie

The last couple of days, I've called the authorities twice. The first time was because a Semi-Truck driver was driving very aggressively on the freeway, making me feel incredibly unsafe. He was tailgating people and leaving only enough room about the size of a bicycle between him and the other car. Should he have to have stopped, he would've driven over the top of the car. Today, I had to call because as I was getting onto the freeway, there was a seagull on the side of the road just sitting there, clearly with a broken leg or wing. It was distracting in so many ways. First, it was just sad because it looked helpless. Second, it seemed like it was just waiting to be hit. And third, it had friends flying above it waiting for something to happen so they could swoop down and eat him. Just a little disturbing. In any case, there I was dialing away. At least I don't call them on Thanksgiving looking for a good stuffing recipe.

Language Arts

Last night I watched a couple Harry Potter movies and made a decision as it pertains to my daughter. British children have the best accents. Therefore, I will be raising my daughter to have a British accent. As I work on this with her, please don't give her a hard time as she might feel weird for not sounding like everyone else, but she'll appreciate it as she gets older. I can just picture her in school when kids come up to her intrigued about where she comes from, but she'll just tell them she's from Arlington, WA. Her first words will be: Mum (for Mommy), Ded (for Daddy), Ello (for Hello or Hi). British Farrah will be sooooo cute.

Tally Ho!

Funk

I am in a funk of a mood. I believe my hormones are toying with me which, ultimately, ends up making the rest of the world suffer. I called my doctor on Monday about my "pills" and mentioned how it can sometimes make me a bit moody (kinda funny, huh?) and I tend to get horrible raging migraines. Well, it has also made my skin look better than it ever has...ever. Because of that, my doctor decided changing my pills was not an option as I have changed so many times, I have probably tried them all at least twice in my life. I have to toughen up when I get my headaches and just keep telling Mike "nothing is wrong" when he asks. I guess if I just stare in the mirror and admire my new skin, the pain pulsating through my head and eyes and my need to want to kick mud in the faces of those I love should dissipate. Mind you, I am not knocking my doctor for suggesting we leave well enough alone, because she has worked with me and my pill situation for 10 years. Enough is enough.

On a side note, I'd like send a shout out to my husband and daughter who always know when I'm not myself and know to give me hugs and kisses at the right time. However, the squeezing of my boob isn't going to get the effect my husband is looking for when I'm in one of these moods. He usually gets the rolling of my eyes or some name calling like, "raper." My boobies should be considered off limits whenever he sees the scowl on my face.

Barf

I have a migraine right now. It usually likes to stop by once a month and say a friendly hello with a feeling of a 10 inch nail stabbing me in my right eye. Light makes me want to throw up, sound makes me want to throw up, and the sour cream and onion potato chips Mike is eating in bed right now are making me want to throw up. Thank you for putting them aside, honey.

Also, I'm watching The Daily Show and they are giving a little bit of a recap of the Caucus elections. Umm...it, too, is making me want to barf a little. Politics are so lame sometimes. I have a favorite, and it seems that all the rest of the politicians love him so much that they are stealing his words. When he says it, I feel alive, when they say it, I want to stick my head in the toilet and wait to see the sequel of what I ate earlier. Also, sorry if some of you love him out there, but Guiliani drops 9-11 every chance he gets, and that too, makes me choke on bile. I know it is shitty to talk politics, but there it is.

Gonna get off the computer now, so the brightness of the screen will stop hurting me.

Peace out, bitches.

A New Year

I am looking forward to an amazing and prosperous 2008. Other than the loves of my life, 2007 has been a tumultuous year. For the most part, things for Mike and I have always come easy (and I don't necessarily mean material things). In the last year, there have been many things that have been extremely difficult for us where we would constantly get to a point of not knowing whether we'd make it or not (emotionally). I have experienced one break down after another. I have wanted to run with my family as far away from the badness as we could possibly get. However, there has always been that small glimmer of hope in the distance. It has always been the feeling and the knowing that everything always seems to work out, no matter how bad it seems to get.

Mike and I are firm believers in "Everything happens for a reason" and "Everything is perfect and as it should be." It's hard to trust that everything will work out as it should, when it feels like it just keeps piling up more and more everyday. But... we started to trust the inevitable. Everything does work out as it should and it all happens for a reason. Things that we thought were falling apart have been pieced back together better than we could have imagined. Things that we felt could ruin us, are perfectly manageable. Where we thought there'd be some horrific challenges ahead of us in certain battles, we are finding it easing and less stressful. We are back to accepting our lives in a positive manner rather than looking at things with a "woe-is-me" attitude. We've started to laugh at the things that we have found stressful before, and are finding that to be much better. We have decided to put some of the things that have consumed and disrupted our 2007 off until 2008. Everything that we have on our plates right now, we feel will be corrected and better once 2008 rolls around. 2007 was the year of bad news and stress. 2008 will be the year to set it all straight. I am excited for our lives to not only get easier and better, but under control yet again. Bring on the new year, as we are ready and excited for it!

When Animals Attack

Last night, Mike and I went to a bar with some friends to celebrate a birthday. It was a lot of fun. We decided it was my turn to get to drink and not be responsible for the transportation of the Moodys. So, there I was having some delicious Washington Apples. Over time, more and more people started to arrive. More and more men started to arrive. Why is it that guys seem to think if they touch you, grab you, or say overly forward comments to you, they think you'll drop the guy you came with and will go home with them? I believe that's probably why they're single in the first place. Well one guy walked in and started to head towards me as I was walking back to the bar for another Washington Apple. He decided to grab me around the waist, in front of Mike, mind you. Without a second thought, my drunken little muscles managed to shove the guy off me as I said, "Uh, No thanks!" I laughed hard at the fact that I was able to get this fairly big guy off of me before he could finish his off color sentence. Mike thinks that I pushed myself off of him, but I prefer my version of the story much better. Either way, I won. Probably the worst part of it though, was the guy was heading for our table of friends. He was part of our clan and we had never met him before! Our friends at the table looked at Mike and said he looked like he was about to kill someone when that happened. The guy who sat down at our table felt horrible. He said, "Of course I decide to hit on the wife of the biggest guy at the table." He apologized and bought Mike a beer. That's about all I remember about that night. I am still recouping from my beverages and it is 2:30 PM. Pretty sad.

Good Intentions

We had our family Xmas party on the 22nd. I was in charge of throwing it. I had volunteered about 5 years ago to throw it at our house, but have had several parties since then and have discovered that our house isn't quite equipped for that kind of crowd. Our family consists of several adults, several children, and several children-like adults. The design of our house isn't open enough to hold all those bodies for dinner, mingling, and gift giving. So, this year, I threw it at my parents' clubhouse. In any case, when you are the one to throw the xmas party, you are the one bringing the Ham and in charge of bringing any extra goodies, while dictating what everyone else will bring to the potluck. Well, to add a little something-something to the holiday spirit, I figured I'd make some spiced apple cider. Who doesn't love that? Apparently, a lot of people don't. I bought 3 gallons of apple juice and 2 large packets of mulling spice. I cooked the cider for a good 3 hours and my house smelt like Christmas. We loved it. I packed it up and brought it to the party and anticipated that at least 2.5 gallons would be consumed, leaving me with 1/2 a gallon for Xmas Eve and Xmas day. Ummm, no. My Grandma and I were the only ones drinking it. The ONLY ONES!!! I watched my Grandma pour some and force people to drink it. "Drink it!! It's delicious! Kathy made it!" She was a great fan. I was left with the 2.5 gallons that I had hoped would be gone. So, I've been working on finishing it all off all by myself. I think next year I'll just bring a 2 liter of Coke.

Dear Farrah Part 12, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Well, sweetie, today is your birthday! I just finished reading about your delivery on this blog site and relived and enjoyed every wonderful moment. It's incredible seeing how much one year can do. You went from being so fragile that if someone didn't hold you just right, you could be injured, to you now trying to run and crawl up stairs. Your throaty cries have turned into conversations with me and Daddy and asking for us by name. You have gone from a breast to a spoon. You have gone from a swaddler to pants, t-shirts, and tennis shoes. You have gone from wearing hats to keep your precious head warm, to attempting to comb your beautiful golden blonde hair all by yourself. You are amazing.

On Saturday, December 15th, we celebrated your birthday with close relatives and friends. And Farrah, you have A LOT of friends. Our house was busting out the seams. It was very stressful and I figured I'd never do that again, however, you're such a social butterfly it may not be able to be helped. So, I will start preparing earlier, like July, for you upcoming event. At your party, you received a number of little gifts including clothes galore, balls that pop up out of a machine, finger puppets, and even a hand-me-down piggy bank given to you by your Uncle Steve. So neat. You had your "princess cake" which had 4 different Disney princesses on it with a big "Happy 1st Birthday Farrah" on it. You got to have your very own cake that the rest of us didn't get to eat. It was for you to dive into and enjoy. But you didn't so much. You are not a fan of filth. You poked at the cake a few times, but didn't exactly dive in. You did get messy, though.

After your sugar high started to wear off, you kinda became a bit of a nightmare. You see, I don't exactly give you many sweets. This was quite the treat for you. When it was finally obvious that you needed to go to bed, you decided to cry for no less than an hour. Not just whining, but sobbing. You were SO TIRED. You were over stimulated by all the people in your home and the massive amount of sugar pulsating through your veins. It was a bit much for little you. Eventually, you put yourself to sleep, but not without a few aftershock cries here and there while you slept.

On your actual birthday, Gramma and Grampa came over to celebrate with Great Gramma V. We sat around and had stroganoff and you joined us. It was your first big person meal. And on your birthday, no less! YOU LOVED STROGANOFF!! You are definitely my daughter. I loves me some stroganoff. After dinner, we went down stairs to watch hospital videos of when I was in labor and after you were born. It was so great to watch it. We all got to relive it a little. You were so tiny. You watched the video, too. Especially, if you heard yourself cry. It was fun.

Farrah, you are beyond anything I could have ever wished for. You are a delight each and every day. Even though I get the privilege of spending all day with you, if I haven't played with you as much as I see fit, I feel like I haven't seen you all day. Is that weird? You are becoming more and more affectionate. You run to us. When I peak in to visit you at the gym's daycare, you start to cry just a little when I walk away. What?!! You want to be with me that bad? But your friends are in there! And yet, it's me you'd rather be with. Your dad and I will hang on to that for as long as you will give it. For I know, it's just a matter of time that you might be asking to be left alone with your peeps. We'll see about that. You are a hugger and a kisser. When you hug us, you let out a song-like sigh, "ahhhhh..." You chuckle about everything. I don't want to be selfish, but I think your laughs are somewhat similar to mine. You have a wonderful smile. I've always admired people, women in particular, that have smiles that can light up a room. Yours does! You don't just smile with your face, but your whole body and soul. There's a radiance about you that I just can't explain. I am beyond in complete love with you every day, all day.

It was a year ago that your Daddy and I brought you into our lives. And what a wondorous experience it has been. We love you so very much, Farrah. You are our best thing.

With all my heart,

Mama

Here are the pictures

Here is the bloody scene...

Santa

Farrah met Jolly Old Saint Nicholas yesterday. Unfortunately, the line was so incredibly long that by the time we made it all around (picture the line for Santa in the movie, A Christmas Story), she was exhausted and had a wet diaper. We saw several young families and many babies that were also having their first Santa experience. It was too cute. There was a family of 5 little girls wearing the same green jump suit. They were adorable. Many little girls were wearing the best dresses they had in their closet. So was our little girl. Mike and I had picked out a dress for her to wear for her pictures with Santa and for Christmas. It was our first time putting her in it, and we couldn't get over how perfect it was for her. It was a chocolate brown and a dark burgundy red. I went so far as to put a little mouse in her hair to get her curls to curl up. When we were at the middle of the line, Farrah was very restless. I let her walk around the mall near the line while Mike held our spot. This made her happy until I made her change directions. She was bored out of her mind. I know she was thinking, "There had better be something wonderful at the end of this or all hell is going to break loose." As we neared Mr. Clause, she was extremely fussy. We saw three families take their kids up together for a group photo and watched the youngest in the middle shriek in fear and discontent. It was funny for a moment, knowing that family was going to get some hysterical pictures, but then I thought about Farrah. What if she got scared of him? What if she freaked out and was scared to death? My heart ultimately started breaking for this poor little boy. After the parents tortured the child for a good two minutes they finally rescued him, the cheerleaders were next, and then Farrah. I placed her on Santa's lap and she just stared at him. Then she just stared at me and then just stared at her dad. No expression. None what-so-ever. She could have cared less. She didn't cry, she didn't whine, she didn't smile, she did nothing. Even as the girls behind the camera made funny noises to get her attention. Nothing. She just wasn't impressed. I think it's because she isn't quite aware that he sees her when she's sleeping, knows when she's awake, and knows if she's been bad or good. I'm sure her reaction will be a bit different when she realizes the power he has. Her picture turned out amazing regardless. When we were done, I reminded Santa of me sitting on his lap last year with a pregnant belly full of this little girl. I, of course, expected him to know who I was, but I don't think he did. It was super cool getting to experience that with Farrah and Mike. It's amazing watching your child experience something that will be a tradition for years to come but for the very first time. It was pretty cool.

Thursday, Bloody Thursday

Thursday night, Farrah had her first big spill. She was walking around as usual and fell forward as usual. Only this time, she started to wail. This, too is not a first. She has hit her head on numerous occasions and has recovered successfully. I quickly ran to comfort my child when suddenly Mike told me she was bleeding. Being the liar that he likes to be to scare the shit out of me, I didn't believe him until I looked at her. Blood was filling up inside her mouth and pouring out onto her shirt and pants. "WHAT DO I DO? WHAT HAPPENED?! SHOULD I TAKE HER TO THE DOCTOR?!!!" This was my way of overreacting. Forgive me for freaking out at the site of blood coming out of my kid for the first time. Pretty intence moment. I took paper towels and drowned them in cold water for her to suck on. She momentarily stopped crying as the cold helped sooth her pain, but she went right back to the screaming. One paper towel after another and a washcloth until she started to relax and we started to relax. This is what happened to her...

Farrah is currently teething like nobody's business. She has 3 teeth trying to push their way through at the same time. The tough ones have been her two uppers. Well, she was walking around the family room, tripped and bit down hard. Usually, when we experience tripping or falling and our mouths shut hard, our bottom teeth are stopped by our upper teeth. Her bottom teeth were not stopped. In fact, they just kept on going. They cut through the already sore and inflamed gums that were working on helping her two front teeth make an appearance. Her little gums were bruised and sore, but she survived her first BIG spill...so did I.

I'll post pictures shortly, so be sure to check back to take a look.

Scooby-Doo, Where are you!

On Sunday, we decided to decorate the tree for Xmas. When doing so, photos were taken. After the decorating took place, we noticed spots on our photos. They were "orbs." Ya know, ghosts. They were in so many of the pictures, it was weird. Some of the ornaments I have on my tree are about 100 years old. We figured it was some great great grand parents or great great aunts that were popping in to say hello. Well, after that creepy discovery, a couple nights later we heard noises coming from Farrah's room. No big deal, because it was the house creaking, right? Right. Except, Mike said he heard what sounded like foot steps, too. Mind you, Mike doesn't hear too good. But, has the ability to hear what we don't want to. Great. Last night was the topper. We had put Farrah to bed and had settled in for the night ourselves, when we heard our door make a noise as if there was a breeze of some sort outside. You know when you're in a room and someone opens a door somewhere else and the air that has changed in the room makes another door near by move because of suction? That's what our door did. It was as if the air outside our room pushed our door. Yuck. Mike opened the door and poked his head out to look downstairs to see if someone was in our house or if we could hear anything else that was weird. Just more creaking sounds. Well, Mike and I had watched the show, "Hauntings" and every time something creepy would happen, the family would huddle together all freaked out. But guess who was missing. The family baby. The baby always gets left to fend for itself against the ghosts and quite frankly, I wasn't about to make Farrah take on such a task. So, being the person that I am, I quickly woke her up and put her in bed with us while Mike propped up our laundry basket up against the door. He said, "I don't want to be surprised." He was our hero.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep well. Not because of creepy noises (which by the way, I heard it again in the middle of the night while Mike and Farrah slept), but because Farrah didn't want to sleep with us. She wanted to be in her own bed and I wouldn't let her. Hopefully, there will be no noises to concern us so we can all catch up on some MUCH needed rest.

45 Minute Rule

Well, our little girl is walking all over the place. This has made it so that Daddy had to go to "Babyproof" town. There are gates everywhere around our house and there are zip tie things around all of our cabinets. Her socks are now getting a little dirty, too. With Farrah running all over the kitchen now, she has made little discoveries. Like cookies she tossed on the floor almost an hour earlier. "Mmmm, this looks like it would taste better down here than up in that seat. Yum! I was right!" Sorry, as far as I'm concerned, there is no such thing as a 5 second rule when you have a little one who finds treats on the floor. What should I do, take it away from her? The kid is clearly hungry and must eat. I'm not one to interrupt snack time. Besides, it's not like she's picking it up off the floor of a sewage plant. I would step in at that point. I'm a good mother.

Dear Farrah Part 11

Farrah,

Yesterday you turned 11 months old! We are coming up on a milestone. One more month and you'll be a whole year old. I can't believe how fast the time has gone by. Everyone says cherish these times because it goes by so quickly and it's gone before you know it. Wow, were they right. The beauty is, I've been very good at cherishing every moment.

You are full-on walking. Your dad and I labeled November 10th as the day you really started to choose your feet over your knees. If you want to get from point A to point B, it's done on your feet unless you're really tired. You've learned that being on your feet makes you just a little bit taller. But you're so petite! It's almost funny seeing you walk around because it just looks wrong. You do, of course, still crawl. Especially if you need to get somewhere in a hurry. You've discovered that when you attempt to move your feet quickly, it almost always lands you on your butt. I have discovered that the purpose of a diaper is not only to protect your clothes and my carpet from a tragic mess, but rather a cushion for those hard landings.

Daddy and Mommy bought you a couple new toys recently. A "Tickle-me-Elmo" and a baby doll. The "Tickle-me-Elmo" was from your dad. It gets you all excited. You start to quietly talk to Elmo when he starts laughing and jumping around everywhere. I have thought a couple of times that he might actually scare you a little. You get so entrigued, though, that any fear you have is pushed aside to see what he'll do next. Your dolly you seem to love, too. When I ask you where your baby is, you look around the room until you spot her. I have sat with you and said repeatedly, "Baby, baby, baby." I say it very slow and clear. The first time you heard this, you responded with an amazing, "Bebe." HOLY CRAP!!! After that, I made it clear to the household that we are not to swear anymore around you as you are a smart cookie and will probably drop an F-bomb if we're not careful. And I'd really rather you not.

You want to know what everything is. Since you can't verbally communicate just yet, you point at anything and everything. Mostly, you point at lights, food, and bottles. The other night you were sleeping in my arms and suddenly woke up and you started to cry a little. I didn't want to just assume you wanted a bottle so I didn't give it to you. You sat up, looked at my night stand, pointed at your bottle and gently whined. You win! Bottle, it is.

Dancing and singing are your thing. Anytime there's music on, you either bobb your head front and back or bend your knees to the rythym. Your songs usually consist of a high note followed by a low note. The lyrics are usually "Doi - doi", "Da - da", or "Ma - ma." Remember, it's only in those two notes. However, last night you decided to turn your slow relaxing melody into a jazz piece. You were scatting a bunch of Mamas. It was like, "Mamamamamamamamamamama." Super cool.

You learned how to laugh, or should I say FAKE laugh? You make a popping laughter sound. Everything to you is funny. EVERYTHING. You let out a good, "ha ha ha ha" anytime there is something on TV that might strike you as being somewhat entertaining. I had the news on last night or the night before and there was something a little sad on TV. At the right moment where someone should say, "Oh that's awful," you let out your laughter. You most certainly are your parents' daughter. Where others might read this and think it's terrible, I just laughed at it.

You have two favorite TV shows. Your number one favorite (which I'm so glad for) is Mister Rogers Neighborhood. I love that you love this show. When the piano music starts up on the show, you stop whatever it is that you're doing to look at the TV. As soon as Mister Rogers walks through the door and starts to sing, you bounce up and down with a big smile on your face. I've watched you while the show is on, and you seem to love him. He just has a quietness and gentleness about him that seems to make you feel comfortable. We also watch some Sesame Street from time to time. We don't watch it as often, though. Sometimes it's just too busy for you. You love it whenever there is music on. Again, you stop what you're doing to see what the song is about and you dance along. You also stop if you hear Elmo. He is certainly your favorite character. I'm so glad you love to watch the same stuff that I watched when I was growing up. You don't seem that interested in cartoons so you almost never watch them. Puppets are your thing. Daddy and I got you the box set of the Muppet Show. You've only seen one episode, but, boy did you love it! We'll watch again soon, I promise.

Farrah, you have learned how to show us that you love us. Last weekend, your Daddy asked you for a kiss. He was lying on the floor at your level and you crawled right up to his face and kissed him on the mouth. You had only done this once with me a couple weeks ago, but never again after that. You kissed your Daddy two more times after that. It was so sweet. You also show your way of hugging. You don't squeeze us. When I pick you up and hold you, you rest your head on my shoulder for a few seconds. You're not showing that you're tired because you immediately get up to go play. The best of the best was last night, though. I was sitting on the floor with you and your dad. I had my back turned to you as you played with Alex. Then all of a sudden, you were leaning your body and face against me. Your dad said it almost brought him to tears how completely sweet and genuine it was. After that, I grabbed you and I got a great big sloppy kiss out of you. You are beyond awesome.

You went to your first baby shower. You got to meet your cousin Kaitlyn. You and I got her some pajamas and some onesies. Hopefully, you'll get to grow up seeing her from time to time. You also got to meet your cousin Grant. You annoyed him because you're at that age where you start getting into everything even when you're asked to stop. Plus, you're a girl. A lot of the ladies from our big family were meeting you for the first time, while others were seeing you for a second time. We've been so busy with life, I haven't been able to get you out much past your Grandma and Grandpa's house. You'll get to see everyone soon for our Christmas party next month.

One last little thing. I noticed something about you today that was different. You have another tooth. I just noticed it today. Not only am I just noticing this, but it has been there for some time, as it looks like it is almost all the way in!! Have I been that self absorbed?!! Mind you, it is an upper tooth and is hidden quite well behind your lips. I did, however, notice that the twin of that tooth is getting ready to poke through. In all fairness, you don't whine unless you're tired. I'm not exactly given any clues, except perhaps the enormous amounts of drool. I'll pay better attention in the future. Keep in mind, your eyes are the number one thing I look at and they're quite hipnotic. It's not my fault. ; )

Oh, Miss Farrah, I can't get over you. I want you to know how very important and special you are to me and your Daddy. You have this special something that pulls us out of any gloomy feelings we could be having. You rescue us with just a smile. You being in our lives has been beyond necessary. You're a constant reminder of how truly precious life and love really are. You have our hearts wrapped around your tiny fingers.

I love you always and forever...

Mama

Going GREEN-ish

Last week, NBC put on every one of their programs something that had to do with saving the planet. Well, our household paid attention and decided to participate. We are becoming recycling fools. We rince out EVERYTHING. If it looks like it could be recycled, it probably can be, so in the recycle bin it goes. We've kept our thermostat down a degree to save that extra 10% a month. We're using candles instead of the plug in smell-swells. That's also because we're afraid they're going to come out with some announcement that says, "Um, yeah, those things that you'd plug into your walls that made your house smell so fantastic? Um, you now all have 2 months to live because your brain is liquifying." I just don't want to be a part of that mess. I'm remembering to turn off my computer and to go around and unplug miscellaneous appliances. Mind you, we're not experts at all of this yet and I'm sure we'll forget from time to time. However, I had a breakthrough yesterday. I had tried to dump the leftover pasta that was in a plastic container. When doing so, the container slipped out of my hands and fell into the grody garbage. I started to walk away saying, screw it, when I had an awful pit in my stomach. I dug out the container, cleaned it, and finished my recycling task. Guilt can go a long way to save the earth. Mike and I have also invested in a Biodiesel company. We're very excited about all the progress they're making and all the new technology our company is developing. Next step: get rid of our gas guzzling vehicles and purchase biodiesel rigs. Good news. Toureg has come out with a biodiesel model. When we can, we'll be getting it.

Go Earth!

Film Critic

A few nights ago, I was going through what has been one of many restless and insomniac-ee nights. I have since sought out help and, whew, what help I have received! In any case, the other night around 4 in the morning, I gave up TRYING to get to sleep and took a trip downstairs to watch some TV. We have crappy comcast which includes the OnDemand feature. I chose to watch an old family favorite movie of mine from my early childhood: Sgt. Peppers (starring George Burns, Peter Frampton, and the Bee Gees). When I was very young, I LOVED this movie. Well, as I started to watch it, I had to ask myself what exactly I loved about it because it was about the worst piece of shit movie I've ever seen in my life. Mind you, I love the music and just might go out there and buy the soundtrack. However, it took me about 20 minutes to watch that hour and a half long movie because of the wonderful invention of "fast forward". There were several times I would roll my eyes and wonder what the hell the writer was thinking. Take some Beatles songs, listen to them, assume there is a story there, and make a movie out of it. Bad idea. I recommend watching it, though, only for the sheer pleasure of witnessing a true train wreck of a movie with some awesome music.

Okay, now for a movie that some of you weirdos out there actually enjoy. Spiderman 3. Whore-able!!! Mike and I watched it the other night and I kept quiet throughout almost half the movie. Finally, right in the middlle I belted out a loud laugh. I couldn't take it anymore. What the f**K was I watching?!!! Did Toby McGuire tell the director, "I just gotta DANCE!!" so he stuck it in there? Since when is it fun to watch a movie become some bizzarre attempt at a music video? I threw up in my mouth a little right at the beginning when Mary Jane was singing in her musical. Ugh!!! It took everything I had to stomach watching 1 and 2. Now, I was torturing myself with this stinky pile. Then Mike shared that there was going to be a 4 and 5. Good God, help us. You, know, I think there are people out there that convince themselves to their very core that they actually like these shitty movies. I'm sorry for them. Ick. Unfortunately, I will have to watch the next two Spidermans. How can I not? Who knows, there could be something cool that happens that I don't want to miss. I'll just prepare myself with a good cocktail before I turn it on and have a long list of excuses to get up and walk away. Wow, those movies jumped the shark the second Peter was bitten by the spider.