Randomness

Cheese Moth: It's no secret I hate dairy. Cheese, milk, creamy crap, any and all dairy I am no fan of. I recently discovered that I also have a hatred of moths. I feel like their goal in life is to fly in my ear aiming for ear wax. I've seen this once in real life and I'm scarred. I've never heard a grown man whimper in so much pain before that moment. I think moths flying into ears is inevitable and I don't want it to happen to me. Denver weather has been a little on the chilly side, so we have been keeping our door open, to capture the breeze, cool our house without having to turn on the air conditioner and each night we see a moth or two flying around. Each time I see the thing, I shriek, jump out of the way, hide in the bathroom, jump in bed and pull the covers over my face. ANYTHING to not experience a moth nose dive into my ear canal. Meanwhile, Geoff is running around the room trying best to capture the intruder before it pops my eardrum. Last night before we dozed off (after he caught two moths of course), Geoff started laughing. Laughing and laughing and laughing. When he was able to catch a breath he yells, " Watch out for the Cheese Moth! Ahhh-ha-ha-ha, WHAT would you do if it was a moth made of CHEESE?! Oh, that would be sooo funny, your WORST nightmare!" I pictured it, an orangey, shiny, hot moth. Shiny because he keeps flying into lights, melting his cheese like body, flapping his cheese wing furiously to get away before he burns, cheese flinging onto me each time he flies over my head (eyeing my ear obviously), and yes, the thought absolutely terrifies me!

Old Man Cake: Yesterday I went a cute little bakery in Denver to order a cake for Sawyer's Birthday. No, I'm not the mom that makes him special cakes. I'm not even the mom that can make him cookies. I'm not that mom. So, I went into this place based on a recommendation from a friend who had a damn cute cake for her son. I realized after I started to order that I had NO idea what I was doing or what I wanted. "I don't know, blue, green, like grass green, and cool and hip. I want it to be cool and hip and I don't want the frosting to taste like whip cream because I HATE WHIP CREAM! Oh, and boy like. Cool, hip, boy like." The baker chick just looked at me an nodded. "It will be ready that morning." is all she said and I left. Driving home I realized that my description is not the best and I have NO idea what I will be picking up next Saturday. I'm guessing most likely it will resemble an old mans cold hip. Nice. Happy Birthday Sawyer, your mom sucks.

Dreams: My dreams have been ALL OVER THE PLACE lately. Absolutely crazy dreams. Last night I was vacationing at a club med, but the activities were not very club med like. There was shooting and cowboy stuff and horseback riding. Just before I woke, it was my turn to shoot targets while on my horse. I don't know how to ride a horse, or shoot anything besides a water gun so this was odd. I remember walking in to get my horse and his head fell off. Everyone said that it was very common, and to hurry and put the horse's head back on and go get my ammo, everyone was waiting. I didn't want to pick up this horses heavy head and really didn't know how I was going to lift it up onto his neck considering I'm so short. I woke up slightly disturbed.

The night before that, I had a dream I was on the beach with walking, talking orca whales. Walking upright on their tales, taking pictures with all the beach goers except when it was my turn, no one knew how to use a camera. We tried several times and I never got a picture. I remember being so angry thinking, NO ONE IS GOING TO BELIEVE ME NOW!!!

Itchy: I'm a little over my itch for kids. I think that was like a week long thing that I'm totally over for right now. I can't help but think about the fourth of July camping and how I want to be able to have a drink, and the broadway shows we are going to see and how I want to be able to have a drink, and parties we have coming up and how I want to be able to have a... well, you get it. I think I need to get over drinks. But watermelon mojitos, and apple ginger martinis and mango-jalepeno margaritas?!?! OH MY!


Love you all and hope your having a great week! Watch out for cheese moths and HAVE A DRINK!

me.

Lucky Breaks

The other night I walked toward the gym entrance expecting to teach three aerobics classes, totally exhausted, just to find it was closed. Immediately I perked up, regained energy. I love teaching classes more than anything, but I think I needed a break, and the gym being closed was just the unexpected break I needed. When I came home three hours early, Geoff laughed at me, knowing that I got ready, drove over there and taught nothing, my reply, "That made the break even more surprising and nice."

I really wanted to spend a night with my family, the first one in about a week and a half. It reminded me of another lucky break I got. A really, really lucky break...

In college, I lived in an apartment with three other girls right across from the campus. Parking was horrible, so bad, you had to get to class over an hour early to find a spot. Living walking distance was perfect. I happened to be on a huge rollerblading kick and would rollerblade into class every day. I would clonk up the stairs, roll right into my seat, take off the roller blades and start class. One day, I rolled right into my seat to find every person's head stuck in a book. In the most chipper mood, I said hi to those around me, asked about weekends, probably told some story I thought was funny to be received only by looks of surprise and annoyance.


(Two of my college roomies I got to see last week!)


"Holly!" One of my classmates said looking at me very matter of factly, "WE have our final, today. Right now, when the teacher walks in, and WHERE is your paper? I didn't see you turn it it, it's due, TODAY, the day of our final."

Me- "Huh? Oh, you guys are soooo funny, it's not until NEXT week. Relax, mine is almost done, that is actually good for me, a week ahead and all."

Them- "No, today, as in today. It's due right now, look at the pile of papers on the desk."

They were right. I thought it was odd that everyone was super studying, like they all happen to have a final in their next class, I mean, what a coincidence, right?! BUT, there were papers on his desk and considering the paper was worth about 50% of your grade, and the final the other half, this was no small paper, not a paper taken lightly, for sure not a paper turned in a week early! Panic instantly took over my body and I wasn't the happy rollerblader that rolled into class a few minutes earlier. I thought of my options, this professor isn't very nice, not understandable, and who would be. I just didn't write down the right date. I'm not prepared, and my paper isn't ready. How about next week sir? NO WAY will he go for that. Crap, all my work for this class, all the time I put into it, all the lectures I attended, the books I read were down the drain. The timeline for graduation might be off a semester because of a stupid mistake I made?!

As all the not so fun thoughts in my head were running into each other, becoming more upset, creating more worry, something happened that has not happened in all of my time here. In fact, I've never heard of this happening EVER on the campus, and heard from recent graduates, it has never happened again.

The fire alarm went off.

We waited for a minute, thinking it would stop. It never did. We all stood outside with our bags and our papers (Hell, we don't want them to burn in the fire!), waiting for word, waiting for the alarm to go off, waiting to take our test. It didn't stop for at least another half an hour or more and our professor rescheduled the final to the next week.

Everyone joked that it was me that pulled it. Obviously it was not, since they saw me in the seat in their class, clearly freaking out. I rollerbladed back home happier than I rollerbladed into class that day.


THAT was an unexpected break!

Itchy

I'm getting the itch, oh MAN am I getting the itch. The -gasp- baby itch. I think it's because my not so little man is about to be one. ONE! How did that happen?! I did not approve of this.

The only thing that is keeping me from scratching, is the fact that, one, I like to drink, and two, we live in a place the size of a bread box.

Anyone want to invent a prenatal vitamin that blocks the alcohol from getting to the fetus and THEN buy me a new house?

Anyone? Anyone?

Just asking.

Hope you all have a rockin' Memorial Day!

My Dear, A Poem.

I saw you from across the isle.
Compared to you, all others: vile
The attraction mutual, I can admit,
though you stay quiet, I knew I was it
Inseparable from the start
Can't imagine us apart
Love to feel you on my skin
Or see you on the bed-so good, a sin.
intervention is needed here
but even a day without you is fear
Can't say I love you, Geoff comes first,
but you are next, tank top- the BEST!





It's getting bad. I can't stop myself. Someone help.

The Ones Who Didn't Know

Still busy. Still really effin busy. I head to California for less than two days for one of my bestest friend's graduation. I'm sooo proud of her.

Moving on.

Last night, like every Monday night, I completed the triple threat. Three aerobics classes in one night. The last class, the students and I ended up discussing people who have babies in toilets, cars, closets who said they NEVER knew they were pregnant. Nope, never knew.

I don't believe these people for even a second.

How do you not know SOMETHING is up?

How?

The stories are pretty similar. Bigger girl, doctor said she could never get pregnant, has periods throughout pregnancy, and so on.

I ask, does your baby move? DOES YOUR BABY MOVE? Is there something inside you that is kicking the Holy crap out of your bladder and if so, get it checked out! Did you swallow a squirrel perhaps and now he is living inside your organs scratching to get out? Check it out! Ask a doctor! Google for Gods sake. Do something.

So, your pregnant, the doctor said it was impossible, you have no symptoms, no morning sickness, backache, headaches, pimple face skin, an extra 30 pounds in just a few months, super sore boobies, bigger boobies, milk leaking boobies, you have no symptoms except movement that gets stronger and stronger, so strong it actually keeps you up and night and YES you have had sex before. If you have had sex before and you feel something brewing in your down there, GET CHECKED OUT!

I believe in denial. I believe girls don't want to tell their parents, their families, their doctors that YES, they are sexually active, even if it was only once. I believe in denial due to low access to health care, but not for one second do I believe that these girls had NO idea.

Another girl in my class absolutely believed in people not knowing they were pregnant until that baby ends up in some urine water and seemed a bit angry that I didn't believe them as well.

She said every pregnancy is different and she is right.

She said she has never been pregnant, so she can't speak for those who have been there. She is right.

She seemed a bit upset I didn't give any of these girls the benefit of the doubt. There I go speaking my mind even if I'm the only one who has my view point.

I don't care, I think it's it's a case of denial and stupidity. I think if you are old enough to let a guy stick his junk in you, you are old enough to know what that can lead to. Medical science has led us in wrong directions many times before, and our bodies are pretty amazing. You have sex, you can get pregnant even if doctors say it's impossible and if 9 months from then, you experience insanely heavy cramping, get yourself to the hospital, you, my idiot, might be having a baby. A baby you put in harms way by not opening your eyes to what sex leads to because you wanted to save face.

Am I harsh? Do you really think it's possible to not know you are pregnant until you push it out of your vajay-jay?

Busy Busy

There was this guy who showed a lot of interest in me several years back, asked me on a date and flaked out. His message, "I'm sorry I can't make it tonight, I'm busy, busy."

Busy, busy?

I was pissed and the next time I saw him, we had a little discussion.

"Busy, busy? Seriously?! No one says busy, busy if they are busy, you just say busy. Get it? One busy. Just busy. The only people that are busy, busy are people that lie, lie. Lie, lie, see, doesn't even make sense! Lie, lie. It's like one lie cancels the other out and it's just truth but in a lie. I don't know, point is, if you don't want to go out, say it, but do not go and tell someone BUSY, BUSY! "

Him- "Uhhh."

Yeah, he never asked me on a date again.

I shouldn't of been so harsh, the only way to describe my week would be, 'busy, busy'. A few reasons why I've been bloggy absent.

So, you all know, it all started off with a bang by me getting all hormonal and girly. Gosh, I suck.

Then I decided to back up the car into a wall. Gosh, I suck because that one was totally my fault.

Oh, THEN, I get a cold. Gosh, I- well, you get it.

Piled on top of the sucky was some serious awesomeness.

Fist off, I can't believe how much Sawyer is learning! He is this little learning, doing cuite-patootie. Three words. He. Gives. Kisses!!! If you ask for a kiss, he leans in to you and gives what he thinks is a kiss. (We need to teach him to close his mouth and that open mouth is only for girlfriends that MOMMY approves of!) Last night before I put him to bed, we said goodnight to daddy. "Say goodnight and give daddy a kiss." He held Geoffs face with his left hand and leaned in to kiss daddy. My heart just melted. I'm pretty sure this kissing thing will NEVER get old!

Wednesday we bought seasons passes to what I call 'The Land of Brace Face' or what is known as 6 Flags, Elitch Gardens. We rode three awesome rollercoasters and I'm excited to be able to go whenever I feel like it. Or take Sawyer on a long walk there to check out the shows. You know, just in general pass time. I think I really like being upside-down.

Thursday, Mile High Mamas had their Mommy Blogger night out at a special viewing of Girls Only. Ladies, the show is GREAT! I cracked up the entire time and had way too much wine leaving me pretty useless yesterday.



Today, my friend flies in from California and I can't wait to see her and show off Denver.

In short a whole lot of busy busy.

I love you guys and haven't forgotten about you!

P.S.- I got this awesome tank top pictured above at Target that I'm just in love with and have worn 3 times already this week. Every girl needs one!

me

This became a no fun venting post. No one really should read this.

I was going to try and write a nice post on things I learned yesterday and be all happy and bright, but I just pulled two of my favorite things out of the dryer that I meant to NOT put in they dryer and they are both ruined. Totally ruined and things I can't buy again. UGH! I'm really annoyed. Seriously, stop reading this if you have a penis.

It probably doesn't help that the biggest thing I got for mothers day was my period and ever since I had Sawyer those don't go very well. I used to breeze by them, barely noticing the slight inconvenience the visit brought. Now it's like my body is at war with itself and for at least 24 hours I don't want to speak to anyone. Obviously, Geoff bears the brunt of this. I would say poor guy, but I don't feel that way. I don't feel bad for any of you guys out there. You know when I'll feel bad? Do you want to know when I'll feel bad?!?! No, actually, I would never feel bad, only even. l might feel 'even' when several days out of the month, you have to stick wads of cotton up your penis. When your cramps get so bad, you just have to breath until you get a break and prepare for the next one. When you feel ugly and hated and fat and annoyed and WE want to know WHY you feel that way, give me an explanation, talk to me, talk to us, talk it out. I want you to talk out something you can't explain because there is no reason for you to feel like the world is against you except your hormones are king. They are a mean, king dictator and you have nothing you can say about it. No voting for you. Ever feel that?! No, of course you guys don't feel that! Okay, how about this, you know when you feel that urge to release yourself? It's got to be pretty damn strong if some of you can't wait to get off the plane, or out of the train to do it. No, you've got to do it in front of me, an innocent bystander not wanting to see your junk on the way to the grocery store, which by the way is small and you should probably hide it FOREVER. HOLD IT IN damn you. Okay, so times that by 500 and the urge isn't to pleasure yourself, it's to feel bad about yourself and fat. I hate feeling fat. Feel fat, and pissed and stick cotton up your penis. THAT is when I'll feel better about all this.

The thing that really pisses me off is the thing that set me off this morning could have been prevented. Totally prevented. Here I am now, annoyed, frustrated, fat, hated, with two less things to wear than just an hour earlier.

Happy Monday. I'm going to find something happy and bright.

The Day you get Thanks for Holding things in your Uterus

I'm a mom this year, like a REAL mom! Last year, I was a little bit real because I was pregnant, but THIS year, I'm totally real. Like really real.

Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly. ~Ambrose Bierce

Mothers Day is tomorrow and the president of our moms club sent out the above quote; I liked it sooo much, I decided to share.




And now, a few things momish I didn't know last year:

1- That you can love someone that much. It is insane the amounts of love I have for that kid. Everyday I amaze myself with the amount of love one human body can possibly hold. It's freaikin' endless, and if your kid is cute, just forget about it, the love quantity is immense. Everyone always says how full of love you are towards your child that you can't even explain it, corny-yes, true-totally.

2- You get other moms. You just GET them. Nothing matters, formula versus breast feeding, co-sleeping versus crib sleeping, cry it out versus picking up, nothing matters. We can make the most opposite decisions in the world, but if you are a mommy who loves your children, you've got all my support, forever.

3- Clothes don't matter. At all. I never really cared that much about them anyway, but if I liked a particular shirt, I tried not to put my shirt in a particular situation where it might get severely stained. It doesn't matter what I'm wearing, if Sawyer pukes something down my back, I'm happy his stomach got rid of what it needed to. Out at lunch the other day, Sawyer started choking on a piece of bread. I picked him up, patted his back and he puked big boy puke all over me. I was so happy that the bread was out of his throat and could care less about my new, vomit adorned outfit.

4- That my thoughts completely wrap around this little human being. Just about every decision made is based upon how that outcome may possibly affect our little man.

5- Two words: Mommy Guilt. During out last vacation, somehow a sliver of Sawyer's arm got sunburnt. Before we left the room every morning, I thickly slathered Sawyer in sunscreen from top of scalp to baby toes. he then wore a hat, layers and had a light blanket always covering him. He was always in his car seat/stroller with sunshade up unless we took him out for a split second to take a picture. One of those days he happened to pop his arm out between the two sunshades and a tiny sliver burnt. We never saw this happen, but it was the only explanation. I never felt sooo bad and sooo horrible and soooo unfit as a parent. A slither of sunburn made me trip on my words explaining it to the doctor. Like I held a heat lamp to him on purpose, or I let him sunbathe in the Caribbean next to me while I slathered baby oil to darken the tan. The doctor laughed, probably sensing those two words. Mommy guilt.

6- Any time someone compliments him is like the best compliment I have EVER received. At lunch again, Sawyer and his little friend played in high chairs next to each other. Two older ladies kept looking over. I was pretty sure they went to lunch to have a good conversation with each other and not hear babies pounding toys against the table. After they finished lunch, the two older ladies walked up to our table and said we had two of the most well behaved and cutest babies. Wow! A compliment towards your kid feels like the best compliment you have ever had times a million. I could care less if anyone ever complimented me again, but you tell me how well behaved, polite, cute, whatever my kid is and I'll beam like the winner of a fourth grade spelling bee.

7- The pride you have as parents. Half me, half Geoff, this little thing discovers something new, tries harder than the day before to accomplish a feat and actually figures something out that he didn't know before. Geoff and I look on, sooo proud, sooo happy, soooo astonished that we made this thing, and this little thing can think and act and love. Every new action, we look over at Sawyer and then to each other and just smile that mommy and daddy smile. That parent pride sort of smile. There is nothing like that smile.

8- That all the pain I endured to get him here, all the barf filled hours I had during his incubation, the endless amounts of worry I had in hopes that he would come out healthy and happy were not only worth it but welcomed and that I would do it all over again to give him siblings to play with, to beat up, to mentor, to boss around, to protect and to scare the living crap out of. If he is anything like I was as an older sibling, I'm going to have my hands full, and going to be good friends with the medical staff at the nearest hospital. Though I'll act disappointed that he tricked his sister into doing something that ensures I dial 911, inside I'm chuckling because he is chuckling too and because I'm THAT immature. I love that little man!


Happy Mother's Day everyone! Stay out of the E.R.!

All Sorts of Random

This is going to be random, first of all, check out the kiddo!



How did he turn out so cute? We hung out at our friends the other day, had a bonfire lunch, it was awesome. Sawyer just chilled in the hammock! Love him! Later that night, realized I forgot to turn the lights off and had a dead car. Nice. Totally missed a meeting I was suppose to go to that night. Man, I suck.

BUT, sometimes I DON'T suck! Check out my newly found craft skills! These are Sawyer's invitations. I worked pretty hard on them since I have no talent in the craft department and am very proud of myself. Thought I would show them off to you. These are the best pics I could take of them.





Did you check out the ribbon detail? Holy crap, I'm amazing!

Onto other things, Ruggy and Jewels did this, so I am too.


I Am: Very Clumsy, bad with directions, a water lover, a terrible tennis player and a lot of other things, but most importantly a wife and a mommy!

I Want: more room, my husbands business to be really successful, my son to grow up happy and healthy, to eventually have a little girl and always be surrounded by good people.

I Have: the greatest husband in the whole wide world, amazing friends, an unpredictable alcohol tolerance.

I Wish: I wasn't so forgetful, that I was even half way decent with names, that girls didn't have to worry about cellulite so much, that nice people didn't get sick!

I Fear: really bad car accidents. I think about car accidents all the time. It's getting really bad. I visualize what might happen if the car in front of us did something that might send it hurdling into the air. I need to not think about this stuff, but I saw a bad car accident once and have not been the same!

I Hear: Construction going on constantly, oh and sirens and drunk people. Love downtown.

I Search: for good netflix movies my husband won't make fun of.

I Wonder: when we will get pregnant again, what Geoff looks like really old, if my kids will still love me when they are 30, if the meal is going to taste good when I'm done cooking it, how our house looks like a bomb went through 20 minutes after I've cleaned, what Sawyer is thinking, how to make a zillion dollars being a personal shopper for other peoples babies.

I Regret: a few drunk emails. Oopsie.

I Love: the way Sawyer looks at Geoff, the way Geoff looks at me and the way I feel about both of them. Also, peanut butter and chocolate together, campfires, a great mojito, laughing until someone laughs so hard, they fart.

I Always: try to get in some butt exercise somehow, even if I'm standing in line for groceries. Think about my friends that are far away. Laugh at exactly the wrong time.

I Usually: embarrass myself, tell you if you have something in your teeth, am way too relaxed about things, plan things last minute, can find anything in the house, but nothing outside of it.

I Am Not: a good baker, duh, very nice if I'm do not like you, good at cross word puzzles, high maintenance.

I Dance: only with my Jamaican friends or if I'm at Beckys.

I Sing: only songs from Musicals, with a full blown performance attached.

I Never: am wrong. Muah-ha-ha

I Rarely: take out the recycling. That is Geoff's job.

I Cry: way more than I used to, which still isn't all that often. I'm a sap now that I'm a mom. Talk about how much you love your kid and I'll tear up.

I Am Not Always: patient. I'm kind of over this thing right now.

I Need: our vacation to hurry up!!!



Peace, love and rice crispy treats!

Me

The Puff Cookie Ruined my Life.

"I'm never making cookies again! Never ever! Ever."

Yes, I'm on facebook and that was my recent status update. I'm not a status updater kind of person, but I had it. I had it and I wanted the world to know. Cookies and I are broken up for good and there is nothing they can do to win me back in their life.

Since the story is a little too long for a status update and you all want an explanation, here is where the explanation will go.

Yes, people, I can't bake cookies, which pretty much means I suck at life. .

It all started I since I was old enough to be trusted with an oven. My parents let me do my own cooking thing and decided I was all about baking cookies. I found a recipe and went to town. Mind you, I don't come from the most crafty, chef like family. No, oh no, we did not cook well, we did not bake well, we did not craft well, or at all. I was blazing my own cookie trail and was proud of it. Yup, follow me to chocolate chip heaven, it will be a yummy trip... or so I thought.

The fist cookies I made puffed up an incredible amount leading the the name "Puff Cookies." Forgive me if I've mentioned them before, but these Puff Cookies are famous. Ask any of my family members and they will look back, errr, fondly? Despite the cake like consistency, and large sphere like shape, I thought these cookies were about the best I've ever had. My family thought so too. Every time I baked Puff Cookies ,they would bag several up and give them out to the friends. "They are sooo good, we are going to give some to Linda's family, and Marissa's and..." Being the kind and thoughtful person I am, I knew my family would want a lasting supply of cookies as well, so I baked more. I baked and baked and baked, Puff Cookie after Puff Cookie. We were in a land of Puff Cookies and everyone just loved them sooo much, they had to give a bunch to so and so, and the bag lady at the grocery store and church group and, well, the list went on.

Somehow I lost that recipe. I would think back to the child baker in me and wonder how I can have another chance at pleasing the cookie palate with my famous Puff Cookies. I guess I never mentioned it to anyone until a phone conversation with my step mom.

Step Mom- "Oh MAN, remember those HORRIBLE cookies you used to make when you were little?! Puff Cookies?! HAHA, those were the WORST! Remember we would put them in bags, tell you we were giving them to friends JUST to get them OUT of the house?!?! Oh, that was funny!"

Me- Silently wiping tear. "Huh?"

So, forgive me if the thought of baking cookies makes me sweat a little.

But, how old am I? I can bake some freakin' cookies. I know I can! How hard can it be?

There were the the "Wheat Cookies", that tasted like packed dirt with a chocolate chip thrown in every so often. This is the batch of cookies my husband would only consume while drunk.

There were several batches of the "Paper Cookies". These cookies were the complete opposite of the Puff Cookie. Flat, stuck to the pan, all the dough ran together. I had a hard time prying these off the sheet.

Speaking of prying, there were the "Hulk Cookies" that were sooo hard and soooo STUCK, cookies flew into the other room by the time the spatula got between cookie and baking sheet. That was a workout.

Failure after failure, my cookie confidence is something not to be bragged about and my cookie cravings go un-fulfilled. I have a few recipes from friends who swear they are failure proof. I haven't tried them yet and it may take me a while to build my confidence enough to even pull out the chocolate chips or the recipes. Why?

"It's the tin foil or pan that is bad, you have to use parchment paper!" Another told me who basks in her cookie glory.

Yesterday I bought some already made cookie dough. I figure I'm sooo bad at cookies, I have to treat my baking skills like one would treat an unknown allergy. Taking away possible culprits and leaving others until one pinpoints the enemy. I will take away my version of the recipe. I don't want to think about Butter versus Crisco, versus oil versus ALL THAT STUFF I CAN'T HANDLE! To melt or let soften at room temperature? To stir or blend? There is too much to think about! I decided to focus on the pan and oven. Simple yes?

I open the cookie dough and it smell great. I'm thinking about the parchment paper. Got to use parchment paper she said. We don't have parchment but we have wax paper. They look the same so my mind convinces me they must be pretty much the same.

Wax paper and parchment paper are VERY different.

I smoked out the house and have wax cookies. Thank God our smoke alarm is not sensitive.

I'm done baking cookies. I'm absolutely done. We are broken up and I'm never looking back!

Dear Sawyer: 11 Months!!!

Today marks your eleven month birthday. ALMOST a year! In honor of this day, I had three chocolate chip cookies before 7 am. Who says I don't know how to party?

You have been SO much fun this month! I am just in love with all this fun! You're hilarious, you realize that you can do things to make us laugh and then ham it up. You do this thing on the changing table where you act super serious, grab my arm, stick your mouth to it, pause for a bit and then CRACK up. It's like you just played the funniest joke on me ever. I'm still not sure what it means or how you thought that one up, but you think it's great and so do I.

Anything that is mommy or daddy's is apparently Sawyers. How silly of us to think that your toys are for you and our toys are for us. You know how to operate the remote better than me and daddy put together. Closed caption, adjusting brightness, muting the TV, turning it on, you've got this all down. Not to say that we let you watch TV, you know I was super against you watching TV, but it's the remote. You love the remote and when the TV is off, it goes on, it goes mute, it goes crazy, until we take away that 'toy'. This is probably why we are having a problem with our TV, we let you play with the remote! Back to me being against TV, I've got to say, when I need a free minute, JUST ONE PLEASE GOD, I turn on a sign language recording. It calms you and I can do something without you in tow. I have hopes you will actually pick up a sign or two, because we all know, you can care less about the signing I do for you! Geeze!



Lets talk mobility. You are everywhere now! You army crawl all over the place. You are on the lookout for anything dropped. If we drop something on the floor, you bolt towards it, racing us to get there before we realized we dropped it and then pick it back up. I guess you realize anything we drop and pick up must be something you shouldn't have, therefore, something way more fun than all the toys you have. I'm dropping stuff on purpose just to see you motor around. It's super cute! You are also great at walking. You walk holding onto our hands and want us to walk you everywhere. I have to take breaks for a back stretch.

At one month away from your birthday, I'm in the beginning stages of planning your birthday party. It's going to be so much fun! It's going to be a water, splash theme outside. Making the list, I realize you actually have a lot of friends and I can't wait to celebrate that day with everyone. I've told you before, I'm not very crafty, hell, I'm not crafty even at all but I wanted to make your invites by hand. I want special invitations for your special day. I called my most crafty friend who gave some advice, go to Michaels and get a kit. First off, if you are anyone but Martha Stewart, Michaels is a scary place. I would rather be in 5 points in the middle of the night with a sign that says, "I'm easy" than be in Michaels. I had no idea what I was doing. I wondered around aimlessly waiting for someone to notice my helplessness and take me under their crafty wing. No one helped me. I finally found where I needed to be. I found a kit for everything but a birthday, leaving me to sit down in the isle reading a 'How to Make Cards' Book. I found one I liked a little, bought a bunch of stuff and exercised my creative mind. Let me tell you, I am SOOO proud of myself. I told daddy how proud I am of me about a hundred times the day your cards started coming together. Once I buy the envelopes (because for some reason envelopes don't come with cards in crafty stores?!?!) they will be in the mail. Yay!

We have had a lot of fun this month and had a packed schedule. We continue with the swim lessons with your bud Ethan and you two are doing sooo well. You kick and splash and have a blast in the water. I was really worried that you would hate it, but that isn't the case. Each time you and Ethan are in the water, Becky and I can't help but talk about our upcoming sailing vacation and now that you like the water as much as Ethan, you are really going to have a good time in the warm ocean waters! We spent another weekend in Conifer, you went to your first baseball game, we take lots of walks when the weather is warm, had a few picnics in the park, and play dates once a week. Phew, you make me tired!



I feel like this month, you have turned the baby corner. You aren't very babyish anymore. Each picture I take of you, I look at and wonder what happened to my newborn. Where is that baby face I love? You look so mature, so little boy like. Your personality is moving from baby to boy and all the milestones you have been hitting prove to me that I'm not a mommy to a newborn, I'm not a mommy to a baby. I'm a mommy to a toddler, a little boy. Bittersweet. Amazing and sad. Sad that this is going so fast. Amazing to see you grow, to see the influence we have in you, to see your eyes widen and wonder at things you've never noticed before. To see you understand your body more and more. Your hands are waving hi and clapping when you are happy. Your feet take steps, one in front of the other and this gets you places. You know when mommy is stern and that hurts you. Before you laughed like I was being funny, now you tear up instantly and just want to be held, to know that even though I was stern to get your attention away from something that could of been dangerous, I still love you. I do still love you. I'll love you forever and ever!


Your mommy!