It's (Perpetually) My First Day!: Miracles happen

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Miracles happen

For those who know me personally, but have totally given up on my private family blog, I have finally updated it with new pictures of Sam.
See, miracles happen.
Try not to get too excited, it's nothing special, I just know even the most faithful have pretty much given up checking for my bi-monthly updates. :)

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About Me

My name is Carly. Once upon a time, I was told that I "encourage sass mouth in others." I've yet to come up with a response that doesn't further prove that point, and it pretty much sums me up. I'm a stay-at-home mom living with my very patient but bit of a clean freak husband. Our oldest daughter, as much of a sass mouth as her mother, was born in 2008. Our son, who seems impervious to both pain and the good sense to avoid it (rough combo) was born in 2011. He is also turning into a sassypants (I blame myself. My husband blames me too. We're both right.) Our youngest daughter just joined the family in 2013, so the jury is still out on her brand of crazy, but it's genetically guaranteed she'll have some sort of weirdness. My hubby and I met when we were only 8 years old, we have been married since 2005, and while I'm certainly not the type to gush about how perfect my husband is on the www, I will cheerfully concede that he is much nicer than me.
All five of us love each other a lot, but we're actual human beings just living our lives. I'm still trying my best to get used to this mommy thing and make sure my kids don't turn out too terribly weird. Because it's good to have goals.
Feel free to peek in the windows of our asylum. It will probably make you feel better about yourselves. We live to serve.

Truly Random Thoughts I've Had Recently

For the latest in my random thoughts...be my friend on Facebook. :)

Lady Gaga finally came out with a song I like. Looks like the apocalypse is next. (9/11)

My 10-year High School reunion is coming up. Suckbuckets.
I'm not going, but I still feel the need to say suckbuckets about it. (9/11)

I've read more books in the past three months, than the previous year combined. I am on a reading tear. (9/11)

Peyton is itching to crawl, and instead of inching him on like we did with Sam, I'm resisting the urge to roll him onto his back. It's just infinitely easier. (9/11)

The other day, I noticed I start a lot of posts with "the other day." Haha. (9/11)

I have a harder time shopping without the kids now than I do with them. Apparently, I have whisper-yelling while removing superfluous items from the cart, while keeping track of coupons, while actually shopping, down to an art. When Sam isn't there, it throws off my equilibrium and I find myself wandering down aisles forgetting what I came for and standing at the checkout forgetting to answer all the debit machine question until the cashier reminds me. I have arrived. I am mom.

Not too long ago, someone called me "uncool." I have no idea why that person thought I would be hurt, as a grown adult, by something I cared nothing about in high school. Yep, I'm uncool. Always have been, and most likely always will be. Let's move on.

I recently saw an article in a parenting magazine that claimed to answer the question "How to Find Out if You Have Mom Hair." I don't need an article to tell me that, I have roots halfway down my head and split ends to prove it. The real question is--how to get rid of Mom hair for free--because the reason I tolerate this state of my hair is because I don't want to spend the money to fix it. Most moms I know are the same way--they aren't walking around working mom hair (or mom jeans) because they think they look fabulous, it's because to pay more for their hair (or pants) is literally a choice of not buying diapers for their kid or something. Sheesh, magazine people, get a little perspective.

There is nothing good on TV. Like ever. Seriously.

I thought Sam had entered the Terrible Twos when she was around 15 months old. Now that she's been two for all of two weeks, I realize I was wrong. This is the terrible twos. I can't change a diaper without getting kicked, and she laughs when I punish her for it, yet she refuses to be potty trained. Why this was not a circle in Dante's Inferno puzzles me to no end.

It's been a really long time since I posted a random thought.

One of the greatest things our country has ever given us is the First Amendment and the right to free speech. It is for this reason that I am thoroughly thankful to be an American. However, there is one other gem this country has given us that I also adore, because it embodies how I feel about our God and government given rights. "Don't tread on me." This isn't an out of date sentiment from Revolutionary War days--but a feeling that exists in the heart of every American here and now, but especially mine. "Don't tread on me."

I was putting Sam's legs into her shorts this morning. When the first leg went in I yelled "One!" When the second leg went in, I yelled "Two!" Sam looked up at me and yelled "FREEEE!!!!" I guess all that "When I get to three you are going to time out!" is teaching her something. Not what I thought it was, but something nonetheless.

Putting sassy comments in the ward bulletin makes me happy!

My baby is going through a phase, and learning to throw tantrums. Today, I called Daniel and asked "She was really cute and sweet right? Like up until last week?" I expected the terrible twos, but the terrible one? That stinks.

The trouble with Taylor Swift is that every time I hear one of her songs I think "Awwww. How sweet is that? I wish I was back in High School..." Not 10 seconds later I realize "Hey, wait a minute, High School SUCKED!" I feel cheated. Darn you, your cheerful optimism and your skinny blonde popularity, Taylor Swift!

I would rather change a dirty diaper than clean off the highchair tray. Is that weird? I just hate the disgusting tray!! Food is supposed to be gross on the way out, but to wipe undigested light green mush that looks like boogers off plastic just bothers me.

Holy cow, Daniel was right about the Cardinals! I'm excited and creeped out at the same time. Start repenting and keep your eyes peeled for horsemen...

I love the fact that Daniel has endless faith no matter what the facts say. He can still buy into the lie that "the Cardinals can be good this year," when his jaded wife will never believe it. You raise me up, baby. It is so cute that you believe that. I personally expect them to build up expectations to the max and then fail spectacularly as usual...

I found a Red Ryder carbine action bb gun with a compass in the stock at Bass Pro Shop. Words can not describe how happy that made me. Long live Ralphie.

Whatever happened to "it came without ribbons, it came without tags, it came without packages, boxes, or bags?" Maybe we all just need to spend a little less time trying to put the right number of presents under our trees, and a little more time watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The good cartoon one, not the terrible Jim Carrey flick.

Move over Rudolph, Elmo, and even Ernest...apparently Kmart is saving Christmas this year.

It's bad enough that the "Holiday" station on the radio only owns like 5 Christmas CDs, but why, oh why does one of them have to be Wham!? "Last Christmas, I gave you my heart..." but the very next day, you threw your stereo at my head.

All I want for Christmas is to sleep through the night. This is not a joke.

Where's my bailout?! Huh, Congress? Why did I bother with the 30-year-fixed loan and carefully planned budget instead of opting to be a millionaire with unethical business tactics? Can I have a golden parachute?

Fine then, can I have a dollar for a mini-Frosty?

Just how many weeks can a baby spend at the "rocking on all fours" stage teetering at the edge of crawling. Seriously.

An elephant would make a lousy roommate.

Why does Sam move her head just barely off the burp rag to throw up?

If Daniel had bugged me when I was in college trying to study as much as I bug him now, I would have killed him long ago.

Where on earth do Olympic rhythmic gymnasts get their start?

Is ping-pong really a sport? No, no it's not.

Is it possible for a baby to go this long without a nap? At some point, won't they finally shut down like my laptop?