You should already know this…

Dear Random-Father-Grocery-Shopping-At-Safeway-Tonight,

Please do not encourage your daughter to wash her hands off using the mister that’s spraying directly over the broccoli I’m planning on getting. Just because it’s water, doesn’t mean it’s meant for washing hands.

As for the rest of you…please tell me this was an isolated incident. My faith  in mankind is having serious issues in the area of public hygiene right now, and I need some assurance that I’m not the only one that thinks its gross to wash your hands off and shake them dry using the mister that turns on in the produce area.

It’s a cruel, dark world when I begin to question ever eating a sample again.

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retrospect

When my second brother ( I have 5) was about 2 or 3, he would repeatedly vocalize any action he was doing. You’d tell him to go hide for hide and go seek, and he’d put a couch cushion over his face and say “Hide, hide, hide, hide.” Not all the time, just often enough to make it a memory.

One day my dad took the first two boys with him to an estate sale to get some tools. He found a box of stuff, but didn’t want to carry it around while he looked, so he told Coloray and Trustin to guard the box for him so that no one else would take it. As soon as he left, Trustin hovered protectively over the tools and started saying “Guard, guard, guard…” so that everyone would know he was guarding the tools. Apparently Coloray got embarrassed and told him to stop. At which point, a man walked up and took the box of tools.

memories are important to write down; someday you will most likely forget them.

Once, Coloray and I had a conversation in which we both agreed that everyone goes through an ugly phase. For most people it is shortly after their adult teeth come in and they’re all gangly, big-toothed, and not old enough to be selfconcious enough to make sure they look ok. We were probably 13 and 11 when we had this conversation and we concluded that we were so relieved to have our “ugly years” behind us, but when I look back at our pictures from this age, we look every bit as awkward as we did in our “ugly phase.”

When my sister Angel was a little girl, she was convinced it was her destiny to be ballerina. I told her that every little girl feels this way, and that she’d grow out of it when she was as “mature” as me. She was very mad at me and pointed her tiny toes insistently as if their cuteness was proof of her destiny. She eventually grew out of it, which is good, because she’s way too short to be a ballerina.

Anyway, this post goes out to Trustin who will be 22 in a few short days. One more Trustin story.

When we lived in eastern washington, we had no running water or electricity. Plus, we lived “off the land” between farm animals and a huge garden. Needless to say, Jello was no everyday occurrence. Once for a special treat my parents got some jello from the store (or maybe someone gave it to us, I don’t remember which). Since we had no electricity and therefore no fridge, we decided to chill the Jello in a plastic milk carton. It was lime, I only remember because I was kind of cheated out of it, but I’m jumping ahead of myself. My mom and I poured the jello mix and water into the plastic jug. When it was done setting by chilling in the spring, we would cut the top half off the carton to serve it. I headed down the hill and tied the jug by the handle to a stick so it wouldn’t float away.

Four hours later, in eager anticipation Coloray and I headed down to the spring to get dessert. Too bad Trustin had been there first and had eaten it ALL when it was still soft enough to shake out the top opening. We didn’t think it was funny.

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Baby’s First Roly-Poly

or rolli-polli, or rolie-polie, or…whatever. I figure its a pretty non-technical name, so you don’t have to worry about getting it exact. It’s part of the fun of the english language really.

We were playing in the grass when I found one and then I held it for her and let it crawl up her arm. All she wanted to do was pinch it in her two fat little fingers, so finally we threw it across the yard.

Fun Fact: Violet has figured out how to open and close the CD drive on our desktop. Not cool. Initially she played with it because of the little green light, but now she knows that if she hits that button the tray opens. How very exciting. Also, sometimes I’ll be in the middle of something on my computer and she’ll turn off the power by hitting the power button one too many times.

Anyway, she’s upstairs sleeping right now..which is my cue to follow suit.

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random

Violet has a booster seat/highchair now, so she sits at the table with us during dinner. I made her some spinach/banana/rice cereal stuff.  Tonight we all held hands and prayed before the meal; AJ’s big hands, Violet’s tiny chubby hands, and my medium-sized hands. The first of many.

I bought paint today. So excited. The guest bathroom is going to be blueishy, Violets room is going to be winnie-the-poo-y, the hallways are going to be creamy goldish, and the master bath is going to be a lighter green version of our bedroom walls. Now I am looking for some glass tile pieces to glue to the mirrors for a faux frame.

Violet stayed in the nursery the whole time we were at MOPS today (Yay). Thats because I told them not to try changing her diaper and also there were new toys. When I came to get her, several of the babies were crying but she was just sitting there…playing with her new toy and watching them.

side note: is it wrong that it totally makes my day to see people I know driving crappy cars too?

FYI: be on the lookout–we are trying to think up an outrageous story to email Dave Ramsey so he’ll read it on the air. any ideas? (am 630, 4-7pm)

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this reminds me…

my bedroom is a mess. M-E-S-S. This reminds me of a goat named Pammy.

Goats are smart…forget dolphins or monkeys, goats are the possibly the smartest creatures in the animal kingdom.  When I was little, we lived on an old farm, with an older house. Everything about that house was like a mini-time capsule to the days when my great-grandfather was a farmer.  The walls were insulated with sheep’s wool, the floors were made of brick, and the only doors with wobbly knobs were outside doors.  Having goats, this meant that anything inside the house was not only a huge source of curiosity, but also available to any goat with enough determination and concentration. Usually, they would work on the door knob till it wobbled open and then it was a mad dash to the open bag of dog food inside the door till they were caught. Of course, if the door was open, the whole house was declared “open season” by all other nearby animals…and chickens.

The worst attack ever occured on a Sunday. We were gone to church all morning and afternoon, which meant there had been plenty of time for a determined, concentrated goat. As we pulled up the hill and the house came into view, we knew immediately something was up when the front door was open and a chicken was standing in the open loft window. Running into the house, we found 5 or 6 goats and a dozen or so chickens running out the other door and leaving a ransacked house in their wake. There were still a few chickens we caught in the kitchen, a goat that had wandered up to the loft and was taste-testing a pillow, but at the end of the house we found the instigator…the oldest…the smartest; Pammy. She looked up at us, placidly chewing her cud as if to say, “It’s Sunday! Why else would I be lying stretched out on the biggest bed in the house with an open bible in front of me?”

Pammy was a milk goat, so we didn’t eat her.

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Playdate

Today was Violet’s first official playdate. And so it starts.  I feel like such a “soccer mom” saying that. Truthfully, playdates at this age are little more than a chance for the moms to have someone else entertain their baby for once. Violet and Isla seemed more interested in what they could do to each other than with each other. Instead of playing together, they examine the facets of the other baby; how easy they are to climb on, what the inside of their mouth looks  like, and what their clothes taste like.  Seriously, they were more interested in each other from a functional standpoint (“…if I crawl over her, I can get to that toy easier”) than from a relational standpoint. Violet gets more interested in a cat than another baby at this point.

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I need these on Post It notes…

  1. I’m thankful I get to drink filtered water every day.
  2. I’m thankful my daughter is healthy.
  3. I’m thankful we live in a nice house–better than the majority of the world.
  4. I’m thankful we have so many good friends and family.
  5. I’m thankful my husband loves me.
  6. I’m thankful for accessible healthcare.
  7. I’m thankful for our car.
  8. I’m thankful that I get to be a stay-at-home mom.
  9. I’m thankful that both my parents and in-laws are still married.
  10. I’m thankful for second chances.

Some days I get too caught up in looking over at the neighbors’ grass, or wondering about that new house the “Jones’s” bought. Thanksgiving is really more a constant battle than an annual holiday for me. Today was one of those days where I kept finding myself frustrated by all my “have-nots’ until I got an envelope in the mail from World Vision. On the back of the envelope it said: “3,800 children die every day from water-related illnesses.” Reality check.

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I probably should have stopped her…

but she was having so much fun!

Today Violet ate a piece of tulle–otherwise known as the kind of fabric used in wedding veils. It was a smallish piece that she stuffed in her mouth before I could catch her, and she had quite a time swallowing it but I was pretty sure she couldn’t choke on it and there was nothing I could do once she had it down her throat anyway, so I just sat there and watched my seven-month old daughter make the faces a cat does when it’s hacking up a hairball. Fun!

Today: we stayed inside all day (not fun) waiting for the UPS that never showed up. she took a nap in her crib after getting up with me at 5am. I assembled three wedding veils for my sister-in-law’s wedding. we played “Pat-a-Cake”. when AJ got home from work, we had brown rice stirfry with carrots, celery, onions and scrambled egg. next, Violet is taking a bath–and she’ll know it as soon as I take all her clothes off in the bathroom. She gets SO (so) excited. After that, she goes to her own bed (please) and AJ and I will read Perelandra by the venerable Lewis.

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I think the tooth fairy skipped our house…

Violet still has no teeth. nada.

New Rule (for everyone): Just Because the Carpool Lane is Not the Other Other Fast Lane, Doesn’t Mean it’s the Other Other Slow Lane.  I’m just saying.

You ever think up new things and wish you could make your ideas a reality? Like flying cars, for instance. Mine? Fart Bells. Thats right, Fart Bells. I have this theory that if everyone knew how much everyone around them in public farted, people might fart less in public. or something like that. Here’s how it would work: A bell over the intercom or on the wall that goes off anytime anyone in the room farts. People could maintain their anonymity, but we’d all know that someone had just farted. seriously, if you’d been at my family’s house tonight–that bell would have been ringing off the hook!

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Sunday is a fun day for playing in the sun day

except that it rained as soon as we got out of church.

anyway. After church was over, AJ and I were planning on going out to lunch and wanted to see if any of my siblings wanted to come too. Funny thing–since my parents weren’t there and they would be paying for themselves, they weren’t interested.

side note: Coloray looks right at home in the drivers seat of a minivan, with a pretty girl next to him and a bunch of smelly kids in the back. hmmm…

Fun Fact: Violet stood on her tippy-toes to reach the cards we were playing with today.

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Today was the first sunny saturday in way too long…

because there’s a reason Washington stays so green.

Five interesting things about today.

1. Violet hollered with a hot temper when strapped in the car-seat. thats right, she hollered.

2. I watched the cat sit patiently in front of her while she shook with excitement and patted him on the head.

3. AJ bought more vw bug stuff. yes, more.

4. I learned a great secret about something i can’t say.

5. someone that i can’t name, did something that i can’t tell you, for someone that you don’t know.

keeping secrets is my cross to bear, my everest. I love them, but oh they eat away at my very spirit.

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Snapshot into my day

Time: 1:30pm

Place: My kitchen

Me: in the middle of making pie crust for my blackberry pie and my peach banana pie. still wearing pj’s.

The counter-tops: covered in mess from pie crust, and melting bags of last summer’s fruit.

Violet: sitting at my feet waiting patiently between spoon-fulls of melting blackberry bits as a bribery so I can bake.

 

Side note: this happened right before she discovered that the walls in the kitchen could open to vast chambers containing an amazing new toy apparently called “Tupperware”.

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Fine Dining

Tonight we went here for dinner. We normally don’t spend this much for dinner, and so in order to fully enjoy our dining experience, we may possibly have introduced a ton of new foods to Violet to keep her happy.

This is a baby who has only previously eaten a couple fruits, some veggies, rice, and oats.

Bread

Couscous

Kiwi

Mango

Green Beans

Strawberry.

Yes, that might make me a terrible parent.

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All the world her stage…

So today Violet discovered that when she makes noises in the bathroom, they are amplified by the acoustics in the room. Yes, that means bath time is now going to be a very loud affair.

I found this the other day, and am posting it so I can find it again. Its my new favorite website

Anyway, here’s the one-million dollar question of the day:

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My Funny Valentines

are both in the bathroom right now.

One is in the tub covered by bits of broccoli, and the other is endeavoring to catch her and clean the broccoli out of her ears.

Interesting point for the whole Nature versus Nurture debate. Babies are born not liking vegetables. Trust me on this one. I’m not saying the battle is over–she will eat vegetables and she will like it.

I like Valentines Day. I’ve never not liked it, although in retrospect that may be due in part to the fact that I really like chocolate. When I was a child, we would always get a little box of conversation hearts to exchange with each other and sometimes my dad would come home with some chocolate for everyone to share.  We didn’t have a lot of candy growing up (read: very little) and that might be partly to blame for the fact that I really don’t remember much else about Valentines Day as a child except for the prospect of candy.

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My child might grow up to be a bully

Yes, its true.

Here’s how it started.  Violet doesn’t have a whole lot of contact with babies in general. A couple of weeks ago though, a friend of mine broke her back so we’ve been spending a day a week with her to help her with her one-year old son. He’s big for his age–and all boy, and Violet is small for her age, and definitely all girl. He’s very nice to her, but its taken her several times to get comfortable around this gentle giant that takes her toys and sits on her. That being said, we had some friends over tonight with a baby girl Violet’s age. Isla is a little bigger than Violet, but Violet is more mobile, and no sooner were the two of them on the ground together then she was crawling all over poor Isla. I looked over and Violet was literally on top of Isla. She looked pretty happy.

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Word of the Day

Globbering: v.

1. To accumulate excessive amounts of drool and slobber on to the shoulder of ones parent.

2. The act of connecting a string of spit from point A to point B through exorbitant quantities of globbules.

 Globb, Globbered v. Globbule n., Globbery adj.

anyways….

what an ostentatious way to mark my one-month blogging anniversary!

(other important findings of the day: Violet can touch any part of her body with her feet…except maybe parts of her back)

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Baby Rule

I’m certain of this: just because that spot of gunk stuck to the carpet won’t come up with the vacuum cleaner, doesn’t mean it stands a chance with the determined, tenacious picking of a patient baby. Eww.

Murphy’s Law: Just because a baby is sick and cranky and tired, doesn’t mean she will want to sleep at all. At all.

Things I Wish I’d Known Before: She’s better at this…yes, I’m being outsmarted by a baby.

 

Quote of the day: “Hmm! I have a white chest hair that I can see!” Thank you, AJ.

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Pet Peeve #1086

Why do people think its clever to combine two words to make one really cheesy word. Case in point: “Spajama Party”. Spajama? Seriously? I was just reading at a hotel’s website where they advertised a “Spajama Party.” I’d go on here but I really don’t want to stoop to their level. Spajama…really?

In other news: I have a seven month old baby who has no teeth but is pulling herself into a standing position.

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Violet has crawling issues

She gets on all fours before proceeding to straighten her legs out till she’s flat-footed on the floor with her butt in the air. She wobbles for a second or two and finishes in a grand face plant. I laugh every time–is that bad? She doesn’t do this every time, but mostly it seems she’s trying to remember how she did it the last time.

The other not highlight of the day was watching the “Stealers” win the Super Bowl…again. What? How much are they paying those ref’s under the table? That’s all I have to say about that.

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earthquake

at 5:25 this morning. not even kidding. It only lasted a second or so, which is boring, but i prefer boring when it comes to natural disasters.

Personal Soapbox Moment: Velveeta is not cheese, and should never be compared price-wise against tillamook medium cheddar…or any medium cheddar…or any cheese for that matter.

baby news: Violet ate cheerios this evening. her response? “Meh..”

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Nicoderm for Babies?

So…Violet has a fake laugh. It would be cute and funny, except that her fake laugh is strangely akin to a smoker’s laugh. She has many forms of this laugh; ranging from a hoarse, throaty chuckle to a full…smoker’s laugh. I’m sure you know what I mean. If you smoke, I’m sorry–your body deserves better, and I make no excuses for finding humor in the similarities between your laugh and my daughter’s.

Of course, this should come as little surprise to me because she also growls. That’s right, she growls. Which is a little scary, because her cousins also growl, so apparently this is genetic.

Second soapbox for the day: when people live together because they say they “can’t afford” to get married, I do not understand this.

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Now That’s Bravery

Violet is scared of the vacuum cleaner. When she’s on the ground crawling and I’m vacuuming, her limbs shake it if comes too close and she cries the whole time its on. The funny thing, is that in spite of this, she finds it her duty to defend her patch of carpet from the roaring monster that takes everything off the ground she was planning to eat.  Yes, you heard right. My six-month old daughter chases off the vacuum-cleaner while crying and shaking.

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We did our taxes today…

Apparently, babies make a big difference in tax returns. Who’d have thought?

Breaking News: If you feed a baby a blackberry-banana smoothie, their “spit-up” is the same color as the smoothie. Purple Urple! The good news is, she was just as entertained by the smoothie the second time around. I found her sitting on the carpet swishing around a little purple puddle with her fingers.

In other news, C.S Lewis is always better the second time around. We’re currently reading his space trilogy, and I’m finding it much more interesting than I did at 13 or 14.

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Overheard in the bathroom at The Old Spaghetti Factory

“Because it isn’t nice to walk around in restaurants with your pants down–that’s why.”

I heard this through the stalls while a mom was talking to her small daughter who evidently had no interest in pulling her pants back up after going to the bathroom.

“Because it isn’t nice.”

The alternate title to this post could also have been “Phrases You Never Thought You’d Say.”

Sounds like something my mom would have said…probably something I’ll find myself saying someday.

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