She Wanted ME!

This morning while getting ready for work, I heard Ansley stirring in her bed. Instead of running to grab her out of bed, I let her just play while I finished my hair.

Then came the begging. "MaMa? MAMA!"  I went in, swept her up in my arms, at which point she started grabbing for that blasted bear.  Once he was tucked safely under her arms, we made our way to my bedroom.

Paul, having worked late the night before, was still just a snoozing in bed. So, I put Ansley on the bed next to him and offered her the television remote to keep her company.

I changed, grabbed my stuff and started to leave. I kissed the hubs, gave the kiddo a kiss on the forehead and said "Bye bye Ansley!  Mommy's got to go."

Without hesitation, Ansley climbed over Paul, reaching for me and starting to cry. I picked her up, got a big hug, but told her I had to leave.

When I put her back down, she started crying and trying to follow.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't normally take satisfaction in my daughter crying. I don't like it when she cries. I don't like leaving her when she is crying.  But, these cries kinda made me smile inside, just a bit. She wanted me. She didn't want me to leave. And, considering she is probably the biggest Daddy's Girl I have evah seen, it was pretty spectacular.

Yeah, I feel like I've seen a double rainbow.

I let my child eat McDonald's

And, frankly, she liked it.  Of course, her favorite part was the French fries, so we paid special attention to that and only let her enjoy just a few.

It was her first Happy Meal. And, regardless of the fact that she will rarely *enjoy* another one, she had her first, and it was certainly a happy meal.

A first

This weekend was possibly the best ever.

Friday, despite the hubs picking up an extra shift (like he really needs to, working 6 days a week) on Friday, we were able to meet my sister and her hubs for dinner. And, I did something I swore I would never do.

Now before your mind starts wandering to places it shouldn't, I must say that it was completely G-rated, and in no way or fashion could have gotten us kicked out of Sears. I've simply said for many, MANY years that I was totally against this, but, I found myself right in the thick of it, enjoying every second of it on Friday night.

I looked at Christmas decorations. And it isn't even Halloween.

I know, awful, right?  I just couldn't help it. It was all twinkly and flashy, and so festive that I looked. And even talked about decorating. And even almost bought new decorations! And totally forgot that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday!!

After doing what should be illegal until the fourth Friday in November, we went home and had an awful night with Ansley.  Waking constantly, and not easily going back to sleep. Which, led to one of my fits of anxiousness, which, I may discuss later. Just know that once we got Ansley to sleep, Paul then had to work to get me calmed down.

Saturday was new and exciting, despite being exhausted from the night before. It was gorgeous outside, and our spontaneity from our dating days returned, and we decided to tailgate at the Tennessee/Alabama game, and eventually decided to stay for a most of the game.

Here are some pictures from our first UT game!

Ok, so I'm a total band geek and was most excited about the band. Nerd.

Ansley's first tailgate! and a super cute bow from her aunt.

I flippin' love.this.face.

Investigating. No teeth at this point, but it poked a shiny little top through the next day.

Rocky Top, you'll always be, home sweet home to me (even if you are having a horrible season).

 

Ok, so, a ton of pictures, I KNOW! I'm so sorry, but I couldn't pick just one.  So, if you don't want to look, just skip to the next post. Or, whatever. But you know you like it.

I'll have to put Sunday in a post of it's own. Because Saturday was just that awesome.

Steppin' Out

So, I'm jumping on another bandwagon. Because it is so much easier to follow a trend than start your own, right? I used to think of myself as a leader, but let's take a look:

Blog, not my idea. Just read some all the time, and decided to start one

McFatty Monday: Just a follower (and not a very good one at that)

And now, Steppin' Out. And I follow.

Anywho, this Steppin' Out thing. Mandy over at Harpers Happenings (great read, check it out. And her kiddo is super cute), along with some other of my top reads, have super cute clothes, and wanted to show them off. I'm totally on board with that. I like lusting over other people's cute clothes! I don't have any particularly cute clothes myself, but Ansley does, so I'm totally joining in!

So, here's what I got for you. Unfortunately, I'm normally the one behind the camera, so this means I'll have to make a better effort at being in front of the camera (which, I really don't like doing. AT.ALL.)

Me

Shirt, Old Navy, last year

Jeans, can't see, but also Old Navy, this year

Shoes, Chacos in need of repair

Ansley

Shirt, Old Navy

Jeans, Old Navy

Sparkly Pink tennis shoes, Walmart

Too cute not to have two photos.  Now that I'm on board, hopefully we'll get some better shots.  And, I promise, not all of our clothes are from Old Navy. Just a large percentage of them.

So, go check out Harpers Happenings, and, maybe take a step out of your own!

Just another Manic Monday

That's today.  Not McFatty. Because, honestly, it wasn't a week for working out, or eating good.  Because a dear little friend came for her monthly visit, and I decided I didn't care two hoots about working out last week. So, I didn't. And I'm totally ok with that. Because, sometimes, it just isn't a hill worth dying on.

We do have a competition going on here in our office though. We're walking. Across the state. Well, not literally across the state, but counting our steps. I'm no where close to finishing, but I'm in third, so I can live with that.

But, it's a new week, and, it's time to get back to the grind stone, which, I plan to do.

Overnight

A lot of things can happen overnight.

Like, you can go to bed living in a peaceful country, and wake up to your nation being attacked.

Or, you can settle in for a late night with a month left to go in your pregnancy, and wake up to your water breaking.

Or, you can go to bed with your baseball team winning, and wake up to realize that they were knocked out and won't make an appearance in the World Series.

Or, you can go to bed with a completely gummy baby, and wake up to one that has a tooth! And, I might add, a second one quickly behind.

That could possibly explain the torture that was the last few nights.

I think I'm going to miss the gummy grins though... But, at least Paul will stop practically chewing her food for her.  I'm over the whole baby bird thing.

Yay for Ansley!


disclaimer: Paul doesn't actually chew Ansley's food for her. Instead of cutting or tearing things, he bites it off for her. Still grosses me out though.

Uh oh.

I've discovered Twitter. Not that it needed discovering. It's been out there for awhile, and I've turned my nose at it.

Like I did to facebook.  I didn't have a facebook account, or even MySpace, until I was out of college. A few years. So I'm not even included in the same network as all my college friends.  But, whatev. My hubs still doesn't have a facebook. And says he never will. That is, until I need another friend for some other stupid game I manage to waste time with and create an account for him.

What was I talking about? Wasting time? Oh, right. Twitter. Yeah, so, I tweet. A few times already.

And I'm possibly addicted.

And it's not even that I'm particularly cool. Or have a large number of people that care to know what's going on AT.ALL.TIMES. Or even that I follow a lot of people.

But, honestly, it's fun. And possibly feels a little more personal than blogging. Maybe. I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know.

Maybe I should see that movie "The Social Network." Cause I'm all netted, and it may become a lot of work trying to keep up with everything. I suppose the answer is a better phone. Or, at least, legit internet at the house.

It's 4:51, and I'm SO glad it's Friday.

You're probably wondering what it's all about

These lectures on my innards (or, at least, my faith).

After cruising through college and really making my faith my own, it's time to be an adult. I have a child now that I'm supposed to train up in the way she should go, and hopefully she will never depart from the Lord.

When Ansley was teeny tiny (which, really, was only about a day. or two), we decided she would stay in the church service with us. She slept, didn't cry, and we felt (and still do) that our time of worship should be shared as a family.  As she got older, and would fuss, I took her out of the service, and we listened as I stood with her in the back. If she still fussed, we went out further.

Only recently, since about 10 months, did I take her to the nursery.

We get such little time together, that we like to spend what we do have together. So, Ansley gets her cup of Goldfish, a book, a few silent toys, and a chair of her own. And, normally, she's fine. But if she's laughing, or moving around a lot or just loud, I take her out.

I'm part of a young adult Bible study group (I feel that it is important to note here that by "Bible study," I mean watch a 15 minute DVD by Rob Bell and talk about it for about 10 minutes. Deluxe). Unfortunately, it meets during the week, and Paul is unable to attend, which leaves me to fly solo. Which, I'm fine with. I guess. I mean, I'm used to it by this point.

A few weeks ago, I get a text message from a dear friend.

"Speaking of getting under people's skin... I'm not sure how to say this but several people in group have been commenting on how hard it is to concentrate on the devotional dvd with Ansley between them and the tv. I really don't want to seem rude, but they elected me to see if you might mind scooting to the outside or the back of the room or maybe just trying to keep her still and quiet while the dvd is on. I know that's a difficult task with a one year old, but ansley is just too cute not to look at and we really need to be focusing on the message."

And this pissed me off. It wasn't even in a way that ruffled my Mommy-bird feathers.  First and foremost, aren't we adults? Could someone not say "Hey, Tiffany, I can't see around your crazy kid.  Do you mind moving her?" I would have taken that much better than the group talking about it for apparently a few weeks, nominating a good friend to say something about it, and sugarcoating it with "Ansley is just too cute not to look at..."

I know what you're thinking. But, honestly, I'm not the I-think-my-kid-is-perfect-and-never-in-the-way-and-if-she-ever-is-everyone-can-just-get-over-it-because-I-let-her-do-whatever-she-wants kinda momma. I never moved her because no one ever said anything. Period.

Secondly, as adults, shouldn't we be able to control our attention span for 15 minutes?? We apparently can't carry on a conversation based on the Bible, or even a book. Instead, we use the most attention grabbing form of media, and still can't keep from getting distracted. I've found myself in this place. Please don't get me wrong. But it's only been until recently that I said, "You know what, those little girls that do ballet in place while we sing during church? It's my problem that I'm distracted. Not that their parents are bad parents." And I control my attention.

And, there's more to the story. But I think it's best if I stop here. Because my fingers are kinda tired.

No stopping her now...

Ansley,
Wow! You are 13-months-old! 

You have not slowed down since we celebrated your birthday last month. You keep growing. And changing. And keeping me busy!

But I love it. I love every second of it. Ok, honestly, maybe I don't love EVERY second of keeping you out of the dog food, or from playing in your own diaper, but I do love you EVERY SECOND of the day!

You are opinionated. You let us know what you like. Mandarine oranges, bananas, goldfish crackers and puppies. And your smile, though still all gums, can seriously light up the room. You are so carefree and kind.  You have a deep laugh that can turn into a snort when you really get going. And, it gives me goosebumps. Because you are growing. Right before my eyes.

Since your birthday, you've learned more words, including "NO!" Mommy was hoping it would be awhile before you learned that one, and, thankfully, you have yet to tell me "no" when I ask you to do something. But, you like to tell the dogs no.

You've started walking. And, sometimes, you just walk around the room with  no goal in sight. You're walking, just because you can. Just because crawling is for babies, and that's not you anymore. And, it gives me goosebumps.

On Sunday, I put your hair in a ponytail!  Your baby hair, in a ponytail! Unreal. It made Mommy smile, but also a little sad. Because you are turning into a little girl. A cute, funny, full of your own personality, little girl!

And I'm ok with that. It's what I signed up for. Because one day, I want you to experience all that I have with you. Because it is just so sweet and special.

I want you to know that love for yourself. I want you to feel that same rush of emotions when you hold your own little child that I've felt each time I've held you. I can't put it into words. I can't explain it in a way you would understand. But I promise, when you hold your own child, you will understand exactly what I mean.

So, keep growing, because I want that for you. Just don't do it too quickly, little girl.  Mommy can't keep up.

I'm a winner!

Check it out, ya'll!  I won a super cute set of hair clips from my favorite hair clippy maker, Sweet Harper! 

I love her blog. It's full of great advice on being mommy to two kiddos, and she frequently offers some giveaways of her adorable hair clippies.

So, I only found out about the win yesterday, and as soon as they get here, I'll be sure to post some pics of the kiddo with the bits of cuteness in her hair!

Oh, and I started a Twitter. Why, you ask? Not because I'm really that much of an AW that I think everyone should know what I'm doing EVERY MINUTE OF THE DAY, but, honestly, because Blair is offering a sweet giveaway and you had to follow on Twitter.

I love free stuff.  I will also add, I am in no way being compensated by mentioning either of these giveaways. But, I promise. Both blogs are totally worth the read, even if free stuff isn't involved!

Let's go for a walk.

That's what I can say now, in my house. And it happens.

Because, I have a walker! Not one of those plastic and metal things to push in front of me, but a walker! Not a crawler, or a cruiser. But a full blown, take a walk from the living room through the dining room, past the kitchen and into the laundry room walker!

Thankfully, Ansley hasn't been like most toddlers I've heard about. You know, the ones that skip walking and seemingly go straight to running.  She is still a little uneasy and wobbly, but she loves walking. She gets such a huge grin on that chubby little round face.

Last night, I just watched her as she toddled around the house.  No particular goal in mind, just enjoying a little more independence.

And she is enjoying it to the brim.  Today, Ansley was in the bathroom while I got ready for work. I heard a few things being shuffled around in an ::gasp:: un-baby-proofed drawer, then she walked out as quickly as she came in (Yikes. So weird to say Ansley walked).  I heard a splash and knew something ended up in the dog's water bowl.

Paul walks in and hands me a compact of eyeshadow. Dripping wet (the eyeshadow, not the hubs, just in case you were confused). And I laughed. Because we've entered a new stage. And I love it.

However, in an effort to keep her within arm's reach, and to keep her blocks of ice (better known as feet) warm, I bought her some of "you know, those shoes for the house with the soft bottoms" (Paul, dear, they're called house shoes. Much easier than calling them "soft bottomed shoes for the house").

Ansley now sports these big, red, fuzzy ELMO slippers! Complete with googly eyes!  She isn't a big fan, but they are too stinkin' cute to just pass up, even if I'm not a regular on Sesame Street.

And, this new adventure we're on?  Love it.  It seems that I'm always saying "this is my favorite stage."  Even though she's moving from one to the next without looking back, it's still my favorite each time we get there.  And the best part? I'm being led by a little hand connected to a very curious little girl.

Heartbreaking

This post started out as something completely different. It was lighthearted and about how Ansley has started walking and how she is an absolute joy.

But, instead, I have been watching Teen Mom. Everybody has their guilty pleasures, right? Bon Bons, expensive shampoos, driving fast.  Well, mine is Teen Mom (ok, at least one of them. I do enjoy me some expensive shampoo, and, on occasion, driving fast).

My heart is seriously breaking right now. I don't understand how parents can act the way they do, not only toward each other, but toward their children. How can you justify using such foul language around a child that mimics everything you say? And saying "You make me do it" doesn't count. Own up to your actions. 

How can you justify treating someone like even less than dirt? And how, in return, does that person manage to hang around, being verbally and at times physically abused?  And how, with their lives plastered all over MTV, can these two allow this to go on? Why haven't people stepped in to assist?  This family is broken, possibly beyond repair, and we watch.  And I cry.

I cry because I know this isn't the only family out there like this. I cry because the child has no say in the matter, and is often times shoved to the back screaming while her mother sleeps in or cusses her fiance. It is completely unacceptable.

I know that I'm not the best parent. I know I get frustrated with Ansley, and with Paul. But I also know that we're the adults, and Ansley depends on us. Completely.

And I know that.  I guess that what make me the adult.

Has anyone seen my progress?

I can't find it anywhere!

It's Monday again. Again. AGAIN.

Firstly, I can't seem to understand how these days seem to escape me so stinkin' fast. The weekends are here and gone before I even realize it. I welcome the arrival of the weekends, but my body aches with the arrival of each new Monday.  Because it is the start of the week. And I'm supposed to track my progress with this whole "getting in shape thing." Blah.

So, here's the thing.  I've realized it's a bit difficult to track progress when you don't have a scale to check your weight every Monday (which, let's be honest.  Checking your weight on Mondays? It's like adding insult to injury. Seriously.  Here, ya go, get up early, start another week of work, AND keep this number in your mind all day. That should help you out. IF YOU WANT TO GOUGE YOUR EYES OUT WITH A SPORK).

The hubs and I have made a deal. 4 nights a week, we will work out with Jillian.  He's doing it to help keep me accountable.  Our plan is to do it for 2 months. 

One week down, and I'm still going.  Granted, I don't do all the arm stuff, because I think my arms look just fine Jillian, even if they are the only part of my body that everyone sees naked. It's sweater season, so I may get back to you around spring time, m'kay?

Have a noticed a difference? Well, my legs hurt, and I think I pulled a muscle last night, but, other than that, not really.  Except, I do feel a little better, even if I put on a pair of my favorite jeans and couldn't zip them this weekend.

I'm missing one important part. I know I am.  The part that doesn't eat chocolate chip cookies and chocolate milk for dinner.  But, the cookies were about to go bad, and I just couldn't toss them? Right?  So, I skipped dinner and had 2 cookies. Right after I met with Jillian.

And she yelled at me for not eating right.  But, my new pants still fit, so we're ok. For now.

You Little Pig

My daughter has decided she is better suited as a pig.

Not because she is fat. Not because she eats a lot (though that is true).

She has learned to snort. And she does it ALL.THE.TIME.  She crinkles her little nose, and starting laughing so hard, she snorts. Which makes her laugh more.

I'm just waiting for the milk to come out her nose.  If she's anything like her momma, it's bound to happen.

Not that I know about milk coming out of my nose.  Dr. Pepper is another story.

That change

So, I mentioned that youth group I started attending in high school, and that it changed my life.  That's for real.

I learned so much during that time, even if it took me to this point to realize it.  I made some great friends, but, more importantly, I learned that my faith wasn't just something I believed, but it was something I needed to live out, and share with others.

It became a relationship.

Which is what it should have been all along. But, I missed that.

I wasn't spoon fed.  I figured some things out on my own.  And, I even strayed. Not from the truth, but from some of the more legalistic things I was taught. Like using the KJV because that's what Jesus used.  Ok, so I was never taught that Jesus used the KJV, but I was taught that it was THE WORD OF GOD. And is was the only version that should be used.

I made some great friends. I depended some friendships that I already had. I learned to be a leader. I became passionate about my faith. And about truth.  It was real.

I didn't really see the struggles of the church.  All I knew was that our youth group was awesome, and at times we managed to bring 100 youth through the doors.  Looking back, maybe I can see some issues, and why some people may have struggled. 

We were clique-y. I was clique-y.  And, unfortunately, I feel that may have come at the exclusion of others. We got too big, too fast.  I didn't know everyone (not that knowing everyone is important, but at least introducing yourself is). The youth director never went below the service with other relationships.

The first time I think I started to realize that "church" had its issues was when that youth director left. He didn't leave under bad terms. He left to go back to school. The search committee listed their number one requirement as having a bachelor's degree.

And then, they hired someone who didn't. And, he had grown up in the church, and his family still attended.

And I was frustrated. So I withdrew to my community of believers at the Christian college I attended. And learned even more.

A lesson on faith, and the church. At least, my thoughts on the subjects

My faith is very important to me. At times, it seems that it got pushed to the back burner because I knew where I stood, and I was surrounded by people that knew that as well.

I made some dumb mistakes. SO DUMB. But, I am thankful for what they helped me to learn regarding my faith.

Every day, I'm touched by the miraculous work of the Lord. When I get to see a little baby's heartbeat on the screen, and get to rejoice with those who choose life, I am reminded of the huge God I serve.

But every once in awhile, I get so frustrated. I used to think I was getting frustrated with God, but, recently, I think I realized what the true root of it is. It's the church, and, subsequently, followers of Christ.

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT A POST TO GOSSIP, SPREAD LIES, AND TEAR APART THE CHURCH. IT ALSO ISN'T REALLY A POST ABOUT MOMMYHOOD, THOUGH, HONESTLY, I THINK MANY OF THESE REALIZATIONS WERE BROUGHT ABOUT BY BECOMING A MOTHER, AND FINALLY UNDERSTANDING WHAT IT REALLY MEANT FOR GOD TO SACRIFICE HIS ONLY SON ON MY BEHALF. IT'S A BIT OF A SOAP BOX, SO CONTINUE READING AT YOUR OWN RISK.

I grew up in a small, Southern Baptist church. Being the granddaughter of a preacher, and a daughter of parents who taught that faith was important even if it wasn't lived out all the time, it only made sense for me to accept what I was given.

And, I grew at that church. From Sunday School, to Children's Church, to even meeting my first crush, I loved that church. I can remember "walking to the alter," and being led through the Roman's Road by a lady that had really bad breath. Isn't that such a great conversion experience?

So, I accepted it. And I was dunked the next Sunday. And I sat and shivered with my wet hair and a smile through the rest of the service. Cause my Grandpa was proud.

Looking back on it now, I think I developed a very legalistic view of religion, and more importantly, faith. Don't get me wrong, I still believe there is only one way to enjoy eternal fellowship with the Lord, but I feel as though I was instructed to believe that the only way was to follow the rules set forth by the Southern Baptist Convention.

I'm not hating on baptists. Trust me, I'm not. They have their flaws just like every donomination. And there are some things from my time in that church that I treasure. Like singing old hymns. And understanding my brokenness. But, every church has it's problems. And that, more importantly, is what this is about. It's about man getting in the way of God's work. It's about the church being seen as something that sparkles and is just surface level.

I can remember seeing the piano player from church out in town, and seeing him smoking. Not because he was on fire, but because he had a cigarette that was. And, even today, so many years later, I can remember the judgments that flooded my mind.

That was 4th grade. We stopped attending that church about a year later. Fast forward to high school, when I started attending a youth group with a bunch of my friends. CHANGED.MY.LIFE.

I think I'll stop here for the time being, and turn this into a bit of a series. I have a feeling it can go on for a while, and in order for me to articulate my thoughts, it's best if I break it up.

So, to be continued...

Happy Fall, Ya'll!

A few goodies, for your viewing pleasure!

A very happy fall to you all, on this 90 degree day!

McFatty... and a side of fries.

So, it's Monday.

And it seems like my days of low self-image happen on a Monday. Because Sunday is church, and my church clothes don't fit. And that makes me sad.

I've slacked off. I was doin' good, meeting with Jillian about three times a week, and dancing with Kym and Dimitri about twice a week. But, then I made a mistake. I stepped on the scale.

And when I did that, I lost all motivation. Because, really, it wasn't that bad.

And when I saw that number that hasn't been around since I was in my first trimester, I thought "Wow. So, I really only want to shed 5 pounds. 8 if I'm really motivated. That's so easy! I don't need to work so hard!"

That's 5 pounds, ya'll! That's it! Isn't that like water weight or something? I can lose that in no time.

So, I slacked. I got out of my routine. I stopped hanging out with Jillian, and met with Ben and Jerry instead. Because, I mean, seriously, it's just 5 pounds.

And then Sunday came. And when I busted out my fall dress clothes, and they didn't fit, I started crying. Because it's more difficult than just 5 pounds. It's where those pounds have made themselves home. Like, my thighs. And butt. And then I have all this stretched out skin on my belly from being pregnant, and I'm not really sure what to do with it. If I could position is correctly, and add just the right kind of fabric, I could just pretend it's my fav fanny-pack that I wear all the time.

So, I thought of a solution. Since everyone says that it's always the most difficult to lose that last 10 pounds of baby weight, and it's even more difficult to go about your day when you aren't comfortable in the way you look in your clothes, I decided something had to be done.

So, I went shopping. And bought new clothes, just a size up.

And, honestly, I feel better. And motivated. Because I'm not concerned about those 5 pounds. Sure, I want them gone, but I'd rather just tone what I've got. Because if I lose too much weight, all these new, super cute clothes won't fit!

Take that, you remaining baby weight, er, Ben and Jerry's weight! I'll get you yet.

Off the Face of the Earth

Ok, so I know I dropped off the face of the earth for just a little bit.

But, ya'll, I've been busy!

We celebrated Ansley's first birthday. We welcomed a house full of family for a weekend. We visited a very special little man that made his way into the world.

And, we've had some frustrations. Ok, so maybe a lot of them.

I love my daughter. With every ounce of my being, I love her from head to toe. But, sometimes she gets the best of me and I want to crawl in bed and just cry. Because I can't take it.

Overall, Ansley is a very good baby, er, toddler. With the exception of a bout with reflux which we were able to make some lifestyle adjustments for, she has been easy. She never fussed between breastfeeding and bottle feeding, took a variety of bottles and pacifiers, preferred to be put to bed awake, and didn't freak out when we stopped the bottle a couple months ago. She's never fussed about eating different foods, and actually prefers peas, and as I discovered last night, broccoli.

The only difficulty: the routine and schedule. Not setting it, but functioning without it.

I've heard that babies really enjoy having a routine. This I discovered early on with Ansley. Dinner, bath, playtime/snuggle, bottle, bed. She turned into a pumpkin at 8:30. And if we didn't follow this, she was a terror. As we discovered this weekend.

We took a trip to visit that new little man. Two hours away (though, really, it turned into about a 4 hour trip after dinner, ice cream, gas, tire pressure, yada yada yada). She slept in the car, which was fine, because we hit the road close to pumpkin time. What happened next, I can't really explain.

She was happy. She visited with Gramma and Pap-Pap. She played. She laughed. She was so.stinkin'.cute. But the time came when Mommy and Daddy were ready to hit the hay. So after another short car ride, it was bed time.

She went down easily, and I went to shower and get myself ready for bed. The mistake came when I reached in the crib and covered her with a blanket. She hadn't been asleep, but was just chillin'.

The sirens went off. Normally, I would let her cry. But, as guests in the house, I didn't want to wake those just down the hall. So, I put her in bed with us. Disclaimer: I know this is frowned upon in most circles, but I loved having Ansley sleep in our bed with she was younger. I liked cuddling, since she is opposed to that regularly.

Anywho, she couldn't get comfortable. Toss, turn, flip, turn, roll, toss, turn, jump, flop, climb, turn, toss, climb, roll, b-i-n-g-o. Ok, well, she wasn't crying, so how bout a few toys until she fades? Bang, laugh, howl, hoot, laugh, yell, bang, Bang, BANG, laugh, flop, flip, turn, use mommy and daddy as jungle gyms.

Next step: rocking in the recliner. Nope. Ain't.Gonna.Do.It. Ok, back to the bed. She slept for about 2 hours, and the process started over. Seriously, I finally took a blanket and tried to sleep on the floor hoping she would settle down if she had more room. Yep. I caught about an hour cat nap while she played with the car keys and the headboard.

It's so easy to have a kind heart for your child when they are upset, or ultra tired, or hungry. I found it very difficult to be patient when she was in a good mood and playing.

But it was 4 in the morning!!!!

And I haven't made up for it. When you have an infant that wakes in the middle of the night to eat, your body has learned to function with minimal sleep. But when your child has been sleeping through the night since 4 months, you get very angry. Especially when coffee isn't part of your vocab and you are a very grumpy person without sleep.

So, the point of this post? Don't feel like a bad parent for finding, and sticking with, a schedule or a routine. Obviously, you don't want to starve your child because it isn't dinner, but, speaking from experience, they really like that routine.

And, you know what? I do too.

A Walking Book of Words

Ansley may not have any teeth. She may not be able to really walk. But her vocabulary is quickly expanding.

It seems like every day, we get a new word. And, they're not just random words either. She will point to something AND NAME IT.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm watching Adam in the Garden. Ansley will look at an object, turn her head, and I can actually see the wheels turning. Then, she'll name it, and be pleased with herself.

A few days ago, she was sitting in the floor of the bathroom while I was getting ready for work. I stopped to watch her as I was certain she was about to dump everything out of the magazine rack. Instead, she picked up a magazine, turned it over a few times, said "book" and put it back in the rack.

I didn't know what to do! And, it keeps happening.

We've had "Momma" and "Dada" for some time. And, not just the random babbles, but actually reaching for us and saying our names. Then, we added "dog." Granted, anything with fur is currently a dog, and when we try to correct her to say "cat," she just starts laughing. We added "book," "nana" (which, means both "banana" and "want), "Nan A," "Poppa," and "blue."

I know that if I had "My Baby Can Read," Ansley would already have the Declaration of Independence memorized, but, we're going on what we've got here. And, honestly, I think we're doing good.