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.

Gratitude

So, Mike and I have had a tough 2007 and we have decided to make a huge shift. Mind you, Mike and I aren't having a tough time; it is outside circumstances. In any case, Mike found a book and it had a project in it that has you make a list of 100 things you're grateful for. What could this hurt? I feel like we've been so busy bitching about life that we've forgotten how great life really is. I came to this conclusion when I started to write out my list. I paused, not stopped, at number 76 just to type this out. I have a huge grease board on my wall that used to be filled with some of the stresses that we are dealing with as a means to focus on getting it taken care of. Ultimately, it would just piss me off the moment I walked into the room, and therefore the tasks were not getting done. So, I typed what was on my board, saved it, and tucked it away. I know where it is, but it's not staring me in the face. As I started writing out the things I am grateful for, it just poured out like crazy. One thing after another and another. I wasn't just talking about my relationship with my family, but stuff like Christmas Carols, the ability to play the piano, and finishing Culinary Arts. All of those things make me feel good. It feels much better to remember the good in life, because it actually makes the bad not so over powering. Clearly, I have a lot to be grateful for and I believe I can push past the 100. I just thought I would share this experience so that others would consider doing the same. Now, when I walk into my office I will be confronted by the joys in my life and will look forward to what the day has to bring. Yay for good stuff!

Red vs. Blue

Mike, there seems to have been some confusion as to who is who on Sesame Street. Elmo is red and Grover is blue. You are going to confuse your daughter if you continue to mistake Elmo for Grover. It might help if you sit down and stomach watching a few episodes from time to time. It will become clearer to you that way. I understand the mix-up. Elmo replaced Grover at a time that you were no longer watching. It was a huge blow as far as I'm concerned. Grover was my favorite and along comes this helium sounding red thing that has some sort of laughing disorder. Elmo talks like he's a gangsta sometimes, too. I don't want Farrah saying, "wassup?" or "you da man" EVER!!! And yet that is what she is going to learn. But, I digress. While subconsciously you might be rejecting Elmo, we must accept that he is here to stay as your daughter seems to be a fan. Just as a frame of reference, I have included these photos. Remember, blue is Grover, and red is Elmo. You're welcome.

Dear Farrah: Part Nine and Ten

Oh, Farrah, I'm so sorry that I missed your ninth and am late on your tenth. However, when you are older I will explain the circumstances and you will understand. I refuse, however, to throw it into this. So, I decided to clump in two months worth of progress into this entry. I had to. I honestly couldn't pin point when everything started to happen.



1. Using two words and understanding them: You say DaDa!!! when your daddy walks in the room. You don't just say it, you shout it. You also say MaMa when you need me. Dada, I've discovered also means "playtime." Mama also means "feeding time." As a matter of fact, this morning you yelled "Mommy!" Your dad and I laughed hard at that.

2. Standing: At the nine month mark you started to not only stand on your own and balance, but use couches, benches, and legs of people to begin the process of walking. It was usually a side to side movement.

3. Walking (or at least giving it 100% effort): You have been practicing your walking by hanging on to your Daddy's and Mommy's hands to get you around. It started out with both hands and worked its way to just one. You've also been using your Cowcycle to push and walk behind. You actually started that just two nights ago. As a matter of fact, this morning, you were upset with me and standing about 2 feet away. This just wasn't close enough so, all on your own you took one step forward and didn't fall down. At least not for another 10-15 seconds. It was your first REAL step!

4. Your Cowcycle: Your Aunt Donna and Uncle Joe bought you a darling spotted cow on wheels. As mentioned before, you've been using it as a walker, but you are also riding it. The first time we put you on it, you wouldn't shut up. You squealed and growled with excitement. We didn't exactly know what the growling meant, but we figured it was a good thing. You also started a weird thing that is all Farrah. Squinting your eyes.

5. Squinting your eyes: Yeah, you squint your eyes about stuff. Not because the sun is out or because you're trying to peer into something. If I hand you something to eat, you squint as if to physically prepare yourself for what you are about to do. Either that or you have horrible vision problems and you can't see what is 6 inches from your face. You also squint hard if you've been crying. This is how you get those big juicy tears out of your eyeballs and quickly onto your cheeks so as to make your dad and I feel even worse for whatever you're crying about in the first place. By learning that, you now squint very hard when you're fake crying. You seem to think that the phony crying and real crying both produce tears. You're confused for now and we think it is funny, which is why you see us laugh hysterically when you're trying to make us feel sorry for you. You've met your match with me, Farrah. C'mon, I used to fake being dead and make my cousin cry. You can't fool a pro.

6. Crawl running: That basically translates into crawling very fast so that I have to actually exert effort to keep up with you.




7. 007: You know how to escape from our baby prison we built for you. We purchased one of those very long and bendy gates and you've learned how to push and kick and knock it to the side so you can crawl out of the living room and hunt for something unsafe to put in your mouth.

8. Teeth: You have two of them. And you use them too. On us!!! Luckily, we're pretty quick to pull away when you think toe chewing sounds like a fun past time. The biting isn't near as bad as the face scratching. Holy crap, girl, you've drawn blood. It seems like I trim your nails constantly. It's as if someone is pumping some sort of super vitamin into your bottle so that they grow back over night. I joke with your dad telling him that I cut your nails at a point and that is why it feels like you are stabbing us.

9. Clapping: You clap when you're happy. You clap when you're excited. You clap when an audience on TV is clapping so that you don't feel like the only who isn't clapping. You clearly like to cheer people and events on. We need to let your Aunt Evie know! Also when you're excited, you kick. When you're lying down, you pick your legs up and drop them down hard. You do this over and over and over. You are capable of making the floor shake when you do this. When you do it the most is when we throw a blanket over your face. When we quickly take it off (mind you, we're playing peek-a-boo, not see how long Farrah can hold her breath), you have a huge smile on your face and you are laughing hard. It has to be your favorite game.

10. Eating for reals: You are eating finger foods and you seem to really enjoy it. The food really seems to enjoy you, too. It particularly enjoys sitting on your face, in between your fingers, up your nose, on your clothes and in your hair. Honestly, I'm not sure if any of it is making its way to your stomach or not. The stinky evidence in the diaper says, "Yes!" You love Mum Mums. When I show you the packet, your eyes get big and your feet all over the place as if you aren't aware that you are strapped in to your high chair and you think that you are running to me for your treat. You have yogurt in the morning. You were very excited about the transition from boring cereal to exciting flavorful yogurt. You tell me you're bored of whatever you're eating by spitting it out at me. It gets in my hair on my clothes, on my eyelashes, all over. Although I might jump up and let out a nice "Ugh!" I know you're still having fun because you're smiling about it.

11. Clothes: Yeah, you're wearing the real thing now. The only time you're in a onsie is if I'm throwing it under a sweater. You're in people clothes! I've even placed your crazy feet into shoes. You only have one pair that fit. Which reminds me, I should probably look for some more to place on those feet so you don't look like some hobo baby when I take you out. At least you're keeping your socks on.

12. Announcements: You make your presence known...to EVERYONE. If we are in a restaurant, grocery store, mall, public bathroom, wherever, and not every person there has acknowledged your existance, you are sure to let them know you've arrived. You let out a constant yell, a high pitched scream, or anything that is considered loud. This is your baby way of making a grand entrance. You get this from your dad, only he doesn't do it so loudly. When he enters a room, people notice him, one way or another. You feel entitled to the same attention, only for you its one way, not another. People don't seem put off by this impolite behavior and actually embrace it. I apologise for you, but apparently for no reason. Cool. Scream away while it's still cute.

13. Nose picking: Um, yeah, you do this. Often. You stick a finger up a nostril and breath really hard out of the empty nostril. At times, and I know this is awful but I am documenting everything, you stick the finger that has been up your nose into your mouth. Ewww. We play a game where your finger heads towards your nose and I push it away and the finger comes back and I push it away again. This can go on forever until I realize that you are determined and I shouldn't fight that type of determination.



Oh, sweet, Farrah. I can't believe how fast time is flying by! I'm starting to map out your first birthday party already. It was this time last year that when I started to see Halloween decorations around the neighborhood, I knew we were getting close to the arrival of you. Once there is Halloween, then there is Thanksgiving, and of course Christmas. And since your due date was Dec. 26th, Christmas meant Farrah. The joy you've brought into our lives is amazing. The weight of the world that feels like has been placed on our shoulders gets lifted the moment your smile lights up the room. All the badness goes away, and your father and I are reminded of how beautiful life truly is. And it truly is, Farrah, with you in it. I know I've said it time and time again, but you are a magnetic force. People are drawn to you and it is the most amazing thing to witness. Complete strangers will stop what they are doing just to look into your eyes and catch a smile. Who, but you can bring such joy into strangers' lives too? I love you so much that it hurts. Every morning and every day with you feels like I just woke up and my stocking is full of everything I ever wanted. Santa Claus is real!!!

Thank you, Farrah, for being you. Wonderful.

I love you.
(Big sloppy kisses and bear hug)

Mama

Whew!

Okay. Yes, I am still alive as is the rest of my family. I thought I would throw this in before I started to make up for lost blog time for Farrah. My computer situation has changed as well as the amount of free time I have to peck at my keyboard. More importantly, I lost my password to this site. Can you believe it?!! So, sorry to all of you out there that may (or may not) look forward to what I have to say about stuff. Life has been a bit busy lately, to say the least, and I feel a nice little shift in the universe to start allowing me some freedom. With that being said, I will now begin my blog about Farrah.

Totally Being a Baby About It

So, in my last posting I had mentioned that Farrah is teething and all she is doing is drooling and chewing on stuff. Well, she has shifted gears and is now crying and whining about it. She has two bottom teeth coming in and one in particular that is heading for the finish line. It's actually quite awful to watch. She's really uncomfortable and it's sad when you're doing all that you know to do, and it just won't work. Last night, she fell right asleep when I put her to bed but only for about 30 minutes. Then she was up crying, and crying very hard ( you know the cry when they can hardly catch their breath? Terrible). I had to get her and let her lie down with her dad and I to help her feel comforted. Later around midnight, she started up again. She cried so hard it broke my heart. I quickly ran into her room, scooped her up, and held her in my arms in our bed until she started to drift off again. It's all I know I can really do besides give her Tylenol, ice, teething tablets, etc; just snuggle and love the hell out of her. In anycase, it's been a tough couple of days for her.

On another note, I decided to explain myself and why I haven't been writing lately. Well, what had started out as your basic Shit Storm turned into a catagory 5 Shit Hurricane that managed to blow through the Moody house with full force. We have, luckily, made it out with little damage and just a few bumps and bruises. The last two months, we have been weathering storms. I am just tired and drained from talking and bitching about all of it. Mainly, because I am quite aware that the more I complain about it, the more poo I will get. Which brings me to something that I have been trying to focus my attention on. I have been reading The Secret. I have already seen the movie, but the book adds more details that further explain techniques and different approaches. From that, I learned that it probably wouldn't be that great of an idea for me to share all my problems with the world and simply work on making it all better, which is what I've been doing. So, wish the Moodys luck in making the badness go away and bringing the good stuff in.

Dear Farrah: Part 8

You turned 8 months old on Saturday. Yay! Well, it's pretty official. Looks like you're probably going to be a blond. We thought for sure because you came out with jet black hair on your head, that you would continue to grow jet black hair. Nope. Your hair is a very light brownish blond with golden highlights. Your hairline is perfect. It actually comes together in a sort of Eddie Munster way. It's starting to grow a lot, too. You have, what we call, wings hanging over your ears. Every once in a while I have to take your hair and tuck it behind your ears so you don't look like you're ready to fly off somewhere. You're also starting to show signs of messy hair. If someone has been playing with you a lot or you've been rolling all over town, your hair starts to stick up in places and needs to be combed or smoothed out. Your body hasn't quite decided what color your eyes are going to be though. I can tell there will definately be green in there. But as it stands, they are a greyish, brownish, green with a hint of blue.



You are teething. As a matter of fact, I took a peek inside your mouth and noticed two puffy spots where your two front bottom teeth are coming in. Your teething isn't too bad, though. Not so much of a grumpy whiny type of teething as much as a drooling like crazy, chewing on everything you can grab including your parents' fingers and knuckles, and constantly sticking your tongue out, type of teething. However, don't get me wrong. You do whine. Not too often, but a little more often in the last few days than usual. You have gotten into the habit of requiring one on one time with your Mom and Dad before bedtime. If I simply take you upstairs to go to bed and get you all set up with your bottle, heart beat sounds, music, and dim lighting, you look at me as if I just told you I killed your kitten. Then you start to wail and cry so hard that it breaks my heart. Of course, as any good mother would do, I bow down to your demands of being removed from the evil crib and taken into the sanctuary which is your Mom and Dad's bedroom. At that point, Mommy and Daddy lie with you while you relax and drink your bottle. As soon as all is right with the world and the planets are perfectly aligned, I pick you up and carry you back to your room. I do the whole routine all over again, only this time you lay back and suck on your bottle and drift away. Although at times in can be a little inconvenient to play this little game, it is truly heart warming that you need that time with us.



You are scooting and rolling around everywhere. You are very hard to keep up with. I had realized that I was not prepared for you to be mobile at all. I had to grab one of the safety gates that we used for the dogs. It's all I had. I also had to dig through some of my baby shower gifts and find the outlet covers because you are actually able to reach the bottom ones. Whew! You're safe now. I think the reason that it takes me so long to be prepared with you is it is hard to believe you're growing up so fast. I can hardly keep up with you. You aren't quite crawling yet, but you are giving it your best efforts. We've watched you take 2-3 crawling steps, but then you give up and start rolling and scooting again. It's okay, Honey, when you're ready, we'll be ready to watch and cheer you on.

You showed signs of getting bored this past month, so your Dad and I bought you a new jumperoo. It hangs in the doorway of our kitchen so you can hang out with us while we're in there cleaning or cooking. You always know how to let me know when you're interested in playing in it or not simply by letting out a whine and cry the second I start to place one foot through one of the holes. If you do want to play in it, you stand in it leaning to one side (usually your left) so you bounce on one foot while kicking the other one as if you're counting like a horse. It's quite entertaining. If you do decide to get both feet into the action and start to catch some air, we love to watch it and the look on your face is priceless. You're having so much fun. There has been one down side to this new apparatus. The door way is only so wide and your seat moves around all over and sometimes your hand gets jammed in between the tray of the seat and the doorway. This of course makes you look at me as if saying, "What the Hell just happened? Whatever it was hurt this little hand of mine that I am now holding up for you to see." You cry about it and I come to you with a big magical kiss to make the badness go away. And it always does in a matter of seconds with you. You are one tough kid. I love that about you. I'm not raising a wuss. In fact, there have been several times that you have bumped your head or bit down too hard on my long fingernails that it hurt you, but seriously it only took you a few seconds to shake it off and be on your next adventure.

You are eating a lot now. You don't seem to be a big fan of breakfast, though. You got that gene from me and my side of the family. Makes us a little sick to our stomachs to eat breakfast. I have tried again and again to give you cereal on its own, sweetened with Karo syrup, flavored with fruits, etc. Nothing works. I've even skipped the cereal all together and tried giving you fruit. Nope. Not interested. So, you get an extra bottle in the morning with a little more formula in it. You have become very predictable with your schedule, too. After your morning bottle, you want to hang out and play. Usually, you enjoy chilling in your "sit 'n spin" toy and watching Sesame Street. You LOVE Elmo. Who knew? Sesame Street is one of the only things I let you watch. I am starting to allow "It's a Big Big World", too. I just don't want you to get too used to being planted in front of the TV. Not my kid. After watching your show, we play for a while with your toys. After you've been up and awake for about an hour and a half to two hours, I fix another bottle for you and put you down for your nap around 11 or 12.. Nap time usually lasts anywhere from 45 minutes to two hours. Depends on what your little body needs. Then it's lunch time, play time, another bottle, and another nap around 2 or 3. You're good after that. Dinner is usually around 6 or 7 (with desert) and you are ready to go to bed at 9.



Bathtime is different now. Now, you take a bath in MY bath tub. My tub is very big and has a seat in it. So, when it is bathtime, I make a bubble bath for you, put in your rubber ducky, and sit you down. I, then join you by having a seat and playing with you. I never make it out dry. You smack that water over and over. You LOVE water!!! You make sure that you smack that water hard enough to get some up to your mouth and you stick your tongue out over and over to catch as much as you can. It's hilarious. In fact, I bought you a little baby pool that fills up with water and squirts out excess water like a little sprinkler in your pool. You used it for the first time with your friend, Tanner, last week on Tuesday. Nancy and I put the two of you in there and you didn't want out even though after a good hour you were shivering. You never complained about being cold. You just wanted to play all day long in your pool. Tanner wasn't a big fan of it. It was too cold and the water kept spraying him in the face. When the water sprayed you in the face, you loved it because you could simply stick your tongue out and catch the water. Fun!



Finally, you shared a new little trick with me the day before your 8 month mark. I had been getting ready for the day and I put you in your co-sleeper to sit and hang out with me. When I turned around, you fell on your butt. Wait! I had you sitting on your butt. I wasn't sure quite what I had seen and even asked you what you had been doing. You were kind enough to share with me again what you had been doing. You grabbed the edge of the co-sleeper, pulled your self up, and stood there watching me. OH MY GOD!!! I was so excited. You're getting so strong and are using those little muscles of yours. Your Dad has been getting you to take little steps while hanging on to his fingers. It's fun to watch & a little frightening. Take your time, though. We're not in any hurry for you to grow up too fast. When people say, "Oh so and so was crawling or walking at that age" I could care less. You are my one and only, and I want to cherish this stage of your life for as long as I get to. Stay a baby as long as you are a baby.



As always, you are full of smiles and laughter. You and I communicate in our laughs. You make this laughing sound that sounds a bit like a vibrating cough. When you do, I make the same sound to you, and you make the same sound to me. We go back and forth for quite a while. We also sing with each other. You'll hold your note while I chime in. You sing about 7 or 8 notes with me. When you crawl up to your Dad's office, you see him and yell. It's like you're saying, "HEY!!!" It's awesome. You yell a lot, but it's just to tell us a story, tell us you're in the room, or to let me know that you're ready to get out of your crib and come join the party. But in between the yelling, singing, and talking, is always the laughter. Your brother, Alex, your Dad, and I can all get you to laugh one way or another. It's usually from a good tickle torture fight. You are very ticklish. This will come to our advantage as you get older, so beware.



You're a beautiful little girl, Farrah, and I can't seem to get over it. Everyday, your Dad and I talk about how amazing you are. Your beauty is in so many different levels and that's why it's so awesome. You can put complete strangers in a trance by the peace in your face, the kindness in your soul, and the joy in your heart. It's very evident to everyone that you are an incredible human being with endless potential. You are eight months old and already have so many friends. Everything about you screams happiness and people are just drawn to you. Nothing you do suprises me. You are great.



I love you more than you may know, Kitten.

Mama

Dear Farrah: Part 7

WOW!!! 7 months old. In the last month, you have made some amazing strides. I can hardly keep up with you. This is mainly because you are now officially mobile. And with that being said, my house is not ready for you to be mobile...still. As a matter of fact (and don't judge me), I looked away for a second and when I turned around, you were all wrapped up snuggly-like in the massive chord of your dad's amp for his guitar. It was as if it were a snake and it wrapped itself around you to give you a big boa constrictor hug. Yeeeeah, that's about the time I jumped and grabbed a whole bunch of that "could potentially hurt or mame the baby" stuff out of the main room. It is weird how they say, "Don't take your eyes off your baby for a second." or "Don't ever leave your baby unattended." and you think, yeah, whatever. This is because when you were first born, you didn't do anything, didn't go anywhere, didn't even know what your hands were for, and didn't have enough or any muscle strength to even turn your head all that well. Why on earth would I think you were capable of suddenly learning how to roll, and not only roll, but roll completely off a king size bed when you were put in the middle of it for just a second? Well, ever since you showed a single hint of wanting to even try to roll, I've been overly careful and taking that advice. I don't want to take any chances. Now, while I'm sitting watching a movie, it can literally be 10 seconds that go by and you have now made it clear across the room. The new fear of not being ready is that you have made your way behind the sofa which is right by the stairs leading to the basement. Even as I write this, I have gotten up several times to make sure you are still asleep and still where I left you. Whew!




Your upper body strength is improving a lot. You are holding your body up with your arms and are using those little biceps, triceps, pecs, and traps to pull your body forward as your legs push off allowing you to begin scooting which will ultimately lead to crawling. Mind you, I have seen you lift your butt up and sit on your knees with your hands on the floor already. I know it's just right around the corner and I'm a little freaked out. I have been picking you up and planting your butt on the floor and you have shown that you are ready, not only able to sit on your own, but to play while sitting. You do still fall to the side and sometimes to the back, but you have yet to cry about this. That's because I'm very careful to keep you in an area that is cushy so you don't bump your head. There's plenty of other opportunities to do that. Like the time yesterday when you were under the piano and rolled into one of the legs that had a little corner on it. Very little whining from that bump, though. That's because I'm not raising a whimp. You recieved a big hug and kiss from your mama and took that pain like a champ and moved on for the next rolling adventure. (However, I felt kinda bad that it looked like you got a scratch from the piano. Sorry, honey.)



You are eating solids. Lots of solids. Which we all know what that leads to: Lots more diapers. You seem to really enjoy the mac 'n cheese dinner, the turkey and rice, and the chicken and veggies. For a while, you were only being fed sweet things like fruits, carrots and squash. That's like asking for a problem in the future. I didn't want you to get too used to the "fun" foods without getting some other nutrients in your little body. We are trying the standard feeding of "meal first and desert afterwards". You seem to enjoy that. Wanna know what else you enjoy? Spitting your food out at me. Yay! It's always fun to get mashed up sweet potatos sprayed in my hair, on my face, on my arms & hands, and all over my clothes. Thanks, Farrah. Of course you laugh when this happens because you usually succeed in getting a loud squeal out of me. When you laugh, your mouth is full of whatever I just shoveled in there and your cheeks are a completely different color than the usual porceline white & pink. You are showing your independence by constantly grabbing for the spoon. It's as if you're already saying, "Mom! I can do this by my self! I know how! GEEZE!!!" Well, for your information, I have allowed you to go ahead and try it a few times by yourself, and you do quite well until you don't realize that there is a back to your throat which tends to stop the spoon. You do have quick reflexes though. You have started to figure out that you don't necessarily need to put the spoon in as far as it will go in order to get a little food.



You are still talking a lot. I know I write this in every entry, but it's different. You started off by saying,"Bababamoomoodamamamamama." That's right! There was a "mama" in there. Now you say, "Mamamamamamama" all the time. In fact, today you weren't saying much except for your usual long-winded, "Ahhhhh Ahhhhh Ahhhhh" so your dad was saying" Mama" over and over to you. I was amazed as I watched you lip the word "Mama". You didn't say it, but you were certainly paying attention. You're awesome. Not only do you talk, but you yell, you scream, you grunt and growl. The growling is funny to watch you do and hear you do. You're so aggressive about it.



You have been reaching up for us now. When I walk up to you and put my arms out, you stick your arms up ready to be held. Such a neat thing to feel needed. That's good considering it feels like you may not like us all that much when you constantly and violently try to scratch our skin off our skulls and pinch and pull hard at anything that looks like it might be painful. Although your father and I have worked hard on eliminating the f-bomb from our language (at least at home) you have managed to pull out a few from us when we grab our wound that you inflicted and see blood on our hands. That's right. You've drawn blood from your parents. Real nice.

You are very very busy. We had a crazy hot weekend in Wenatchee last week. I decided to just allow you to hang out in your diaper thinking that might be more comfortable for you. However, you had a better idea. Again, I looked away for literally just a second and the next thing you know, your diaper was in your hands now being used as a toy while the rest of you aired out. Your dad was sitting with you and he completely missed it until I informed him of your nakedness and potental messiness. Paper is now your favorite cheap toy. I just need to be careful not to allow you to give yourself nasty paper cuts.





It's weird. It's like you're a little person. You have such a personality now. Like whenever your Daddy walks in the door, the smile on your face is as if Jesus Christ himself walked in the room. I usually like to say your hero just walked in. Everything and everyone makes you laugh and smile. There's no mistaking you're an amazing human being with incredible potential. It's so exciting to watch the changes you make. It's almost as if it is on a daily basis. It's somewhat overwhelming, but so incredibly awesome at the same time. You have definately brought an amazing joy into our lives and I hope that we bring the same to yours.



I love you Farrah, and am looking forward to what this next month brings.

Always,

Mama (you can say it)

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.