Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Sugar Dumplin

You are 11 months old! How did that happen?

To be honest, Mommy has been too busy thinking about your quickly approaching 1 year celebration to even realize that you are now 11 months old!

10 months was a big deal. You went from single digits to doubles! And 12 months will be huge! But what's so special about 11 months?

You. The way you've started to wrinkle your nose when you laugh. The way you giggle so hard, you start snorting. The way you've turned into a big girl and don't like to take your bottle while on your back. You sit and drink it now. Like such a big girl.

You have a high chair, and you sit at the table now. You share dinner with Mommy, and breakfast with Daddy. And let me tell you little one, you do love your food. Let's hope you have the metabolism of your Daddy.

Your favorite is banana. You even ask for it. "nana, Nana, NANA!!!" At first, I thought you were actually asking for your Nana, until I realized that you say it around meal times. You even pointed to one in the grocery store and said "Nana!" just the other day. What a big girl!

Your still toothless grin melts my heart, and your morning wake up calls for "Momma" warm me to the core. You have a somewhat daring nature, venturing to stand up on Mommy and Daddy's bed, but still have no interest in even taking a solo step. But it will come in it's own time. We're not going to rush it.

Because soon, you will be a whole year old. Soon, you'll be running. Soon, you'll be full of words, and will share them with everyone around you.

But don't move too fast Ansley. Take your time, and treasure each moment. Mommy and Daddy aren't ready for you to turn down a cuddle, or keep your words to yourself. Because to us, you're still our little girl, no matter how big you get.

I love you booger.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Tiffany and the Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Yup. That was yesterday.

And what made it so bad, and worthy of such a title? Well, it really wasn't that much.

We were filming a webisode for work. A series of "Good Idea, Bad Idea" snipits.

Good idea: petting a cat. Bad idea: punting a cat.

I must first throw out the disclaimer that no animals were harmed during the filming. However, one educator was, and one pretty little girl is anxiously awaiting the return of her cat.

We were using my cat, er, Ansley's cat, as a prop. Very friendly. Totally on board with the good idea. However, when it came time for the "bad idea" portion and we decided to kick a stuffed cat through the uprights at a local football field, Cat was not on board.

We simply wanted to show him being dropped while being held. Kinda like he was about to be drop kicked. And since we don't have a football field in our back yard (much to the hub's dismay), my coworkers wanted to take Cat just down the street. Not very far.

His freaking out in the car should have been my first clue. He made noises that I've never heard him make. Once the car stopped just down the street from the house, Cat jumped out and took off.

I was able to round him up, and decided to walk him just up the street to the house. However, he was not too excited about that. At.All.

He clawed. He moaned.

Once we got to the main intersection, that was it. He tore me to shreds and jumped out of my arms.

And he still isn't home. I have puncture wounds on my shoulders, and scratches all over my arms and neck. I have the most painful cut in between my fingers, and even one in my ear. Yes, inside my ear.

I know I've had even worse days. But, not only am I covered in battle wounds, and not only is my daughter's favorite ball o'fluff not home, but there was another casualty. My shirt. A favorite Old Navy shirt. Shredded.

And, if that can't qualify as a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day, then I don't know what can.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

I need a spork, please...

So I can gouge my own eyes out.

4 days out of the week, I totally love my job. I'm making a difference. I'm encouraged. I encourage. I complete an assignment on time. I leave my mark. I laugh.

But, sometimes, there's that one day. That day where I'm frustrated. That day where I feel unappreciated and under-paid. That day that I go without a thank you. That day where if I'm checked in on one more time, I may possibly scream. And, seeing as how we do transvaginal ultrasounds, screaming would not be good for business.

But I can't help it. Sometimes, it is best just to keep doing things the way they've always been done, because it works. And if it works, why struggle to change it? And, sometimes, if we're given a task, expect it to be completed without checking in.

Because we are all adults. And we should treat each other that way. With respect. And the ability to have a personal picture on our computer. Because, doggonnit, some of us have cute babies that we miss during the day.

And we would rather be there with them. And a pint of Half Baked. Because it does make the whole world a better place to be.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

One down, a few to go

So, we went to look at that house a few days ago. That one that seemed WAY to good to be true.

You know, 30K cheaper and 800 more square feet. Newer construction. More land. Wrap-around porch AND dormer windows!! All that comes to mind when I think "dream house." With a few exceptions.

I don't know you, mister listing agent, but "3 bedrooms" means three rooms with closets! Not two rooms downstairs, plus a HUGE bonus room upstairs. Bonus room=awesome. Having to divide the room to make more bedrooms=stab me with a dull spoon.

Wood paneled toilet lids, not cool. Textured wallpaper in the ENTIRE house, tacky. Particle board cabinets, cheap.

You know, sometimes, old light fixtures look pretty cool. In this case, they just looked like a flashback from the 80s. And it wasn't even a good flashback.

Plus, when you mention to someone who built the house and they say "Are you sure you even want to look at it?" Pretty good hint that the builder isn't known in a positive light.

So, I guess that means one decision has been made. We're going to stay put. Which, ultimately, I think I wanted anyway. We may not have the largest of closets, and our doors may creak a little, but it's character. And you always seem to cheer for the character that's been around the longest.

Welcome home, Soyster family. Welcome home.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Some recent shots.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Creature of Habit

I cannot make decisions. Period.

When I'm getting ready for work in the mornings, rarely do I wear the first thing I put on. Unfortunately, I've found myself doing this with my child as well. However, I've learned that Ansley doesn't care if the skirt makes her thighs look fat, and, sometimes, it's better to let her go unmatching than hog tying her to change her clothes.

Probably the biggest decision I have is knowing what I want to eat. This is how a typical conversation between me and the hubs goes:

Me: "Hey, let's go out to dinner." Him: "Ok, what do you want?" Me: "Hmm. I don't know. What do you want?" Him: "You made the suggestion, so you obviously had something in mind." Me: "How about Moe's?" Him: "That sounds good." Me: "We don't have to go there. We can go somewhere different." Him: "Moe's is fine. Do you really want Moe's?" Me: "I don't know. I was kinda thinking I was in the mood for some chicken. How about Chick-Fil-A?" Him: "Ok, that's fine." Me: "No, let's just go to Moe's" Him: "Are you sure?" Me: "Yeah. Just go to O'Charlies."

When we were picking baby names, I flip flopped about 17 times.

And picking a movie, forget it.

I cannot make decisions. It's almost impossible for me to do so. And many times, I end up avoiding whatever decision needs to be made (minus having to pick out an outfit. Avoiding that decision would mean running around naked, and even though I've cranked out a baby and have had people I've never met help me use the bathroom, naked is out.).

Which is why when I'm faced with big decisions, I tend to stick with what is known. What is comfortable. What isn't a stretch.

Ok, not even big decisions. Little ones too. Like I rarely order something new from a restaurant. Because I know I like it. And I'm too worried I'm not going to like something else.

And if I find a shirt I like, I tend to go back and buy it in every color. Because it isn't a stretch for me in the mornings to decide what to wear. When Old Navy had the super soft rouched V-neck shirts, I had like seven of them.

I always get the same haircut. I spent most of my time at Walmart in the shampoo section trying to decide what kind I want to use, only to ultimately buy what I always do.

But now, we've got to make some decisions. And I can't just avoid them.

I've got to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life. I've got to decide if I want to try and sell our current house, and buy one that is cheaper, allowing us to save more money. And I can't decide.

And, I've got to decide what to do for Ansley's first birthday party. Zoo? Aquarium? Baseball game? Park? Nothing big because she won't remember it anyway?

And, I've got to decide when that first haircut should happen. Cause, that little side-sweep of her bangs is only going to work for so long.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Whew. May I please be myself now?

Dearest blog,
How I've missed you! I've missed our time together, our secret meetings during the work day. And I've certainly felt our separation.

You calm me, and listen to my emotional ramblings, and help me work through them before I even think about hashing out the roughest cuts with the hubs. You help me get-and keep- my perspective on the busy world around me.

You help me keep track of my kiddo, and remember the things that make me laugh. You're a photo album, and lead me on walks down memory lane.

Please don't take it personally. I just haven't been able to sit down and enjoy a cup of tea with you. For one, we spent a wonderful week on vacation. Secondly, our air conditioning took it's own vacation for a week, and when the temps bottoming out around 85, sitting in the room that doesn't have a ceiling fan isn't my idea of fun. Also, Ansley decided that because of the 2 aforementioned issues, she did not have to adjust accordingly. She didn't sleep well, often waking up as though she just showered, and wanted to be held but not really cause that just made her warmer.

But I want to get back with you. We have so much to catch up on. Like the vacation, and that week Satan allowed some of his homies to visit my house, in the form of a broken AC.

And I'll promise I'll be better about keeping our dates. But I've got to be honest. If the hubs is around, you've got to hit the road.