I write more posts when I am on an official declared blogging break than I do when I'm supposedly back in business. Eh.

Lifes been good. Christmas was good. I could post all my pictures and stuff but I"m too lazy. Eh.

Jim was off for a week, then my family was here for a week, then Jim was off for some more days. I didn't change a poopy diaper for a couple weeks straight. Unfortunately Miss Cambry is going through attention withdrawls or something because these past few days of returning to a normal schedule have just about won her a trip through the upstairs window.

Here's a peek into my day:

Cambry? Are you chewing on something. Cambry? Are you choking? Cambry is that carpet fuzz and a miniscule piece of junk you picked up of the freshly vaccumed floor?

Cambry, you are not allowed to take off your diaper.

Cambry, take your hands out of the poop right now.

Who turned off the tv? Cambry, give mommy the remote.

Jim: What happened to the F8 key on the laptop? Me: Casualty of Hurricane Cambry.

Cambry, get your finger out of mommys eye/nose/mouth/ear.

Child! do not lick the Christmas tree.

What happened to my piece of chicken. It was right on my plate? CAMBRY!!!

 
Sigh. Not to mention she picked up this new trick of growling like a monster. Now she crawls after me all around the house growling in the most annoying noise ever, "MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA". I can't sit down without her crawling all over me. I can't leave the room with out her crying. I can't NOT be paying attention to her because she will do everything in her power to make me look at her. AND- she wakes up 3 or 4 times a night and just wants me to hold her. Heaven forbid I send Jim in to hold her, she screams like I just deserted her on a ship of baby eating pirates.

Look, I love my kid. I really do. But gee- can't a Mama catch a break?

Don't answer that.

Today is the third anniversary of the Twenteenth Birthday of my very, very. very dear friend Miss Mysterious and so I offer to her this special day, a gift in the form of a birthday tribute. I will try to make it was cheesy as possible.

Miss Mysterious was my first roommate and-although we didn't realize it at the time- my soulmate (sorry Jim). She is a very special girl. Beautiful in every way, inside and out. Every girl wants to be her best friend, every boy wants to be her boyfriend (or even get a second glance from her), every child wants to hold her hand, every dog wants to wag their tail at her, woodland creatures want to tie her shoes, everywhere she walks flowers bloom, rainbows rise, and glitter falls. It's kind of like she's a Disney Princess... or is she?

Miss Mysterious and I had some good times. Unfortunately I cannot go into detail about many of them because the statue of limitations has not yet expired. I'll just say that the nights we stayed up planning and scheming and laughing and eating (there was always eating) were some of the best times in my life.

Miss Mysterious was my fooseball championship partner. We were undefeated and had many a good nights crushing little boys egos. I must say, Miss Mysterious has wrists like an 18 year old frat boy. And I mean that from the bottom my heart.

Whether it was windowsill talks, late night rose garden walks, irish step dancing lessons, Macey's chocolate/orange juice runs or just locking ourselves in the apartment and not answering the door or phone, we always managed to spend quality time together each day and I must say that those times were some of my favorite college memories.

Miss Mysterious, you a truely a beautiful, special, and talented girl and I must say that it is a privilege to be your friend and criminal partner. I love you.

Love with fishy faces- Miss Mischevious

Unfortunately there is a three week break from college football games.

Unfortunately.

Humm.... However shall we fill in our empty evenings? I think I'll make a list:

-trim the trees

-dust the blinds and fans

-wash the windows

-wash the baseboards

- polish the wood cabinets

-clean the carpets

You know what the BEST. FOOD. EVER. is? The Chicken Parisian sandwich and cold pasta salad from La Madaleine. It's so-oo good. Sorry, I think I just drooled on my keyboard.

Being the kind and loving husband Jim is, he took me there for a dinner date (Me and him and a very loud baby) even though "it's a girly resturant" and  "they have girly portions" and "it's French". Yeah, I probably won't be returning for a while.

We need some new restaurant ideas. Anyone? Whats out there, what's good?

In the meantime, I need a new La Madaleine partner. Anyone? Let's do lunch.

Church started about 25 minutes late for us today. Couldn't seem to pull myself out of bed. We probably could have made it ontime but I spent extra time in the shower shaving my legs- only to then decide to wear boots today. Jim kindly kept his mouth shut.

I tried to make some sort of comment in Releif Society. I'm not exactly sure what I said but it wasn't not the eloquent speech I had imagined myself giving in my head. Felt pretty much like a dork.

My kid peed on her dress and so she spent the last bit of church naked except for her bloomers, shoes, and hair bow. Nice.

I did however, get our Christmas tree up (more on that later) and I have peppermint ice cream and brownies waiting for me so I'm cutting this post short---

Do they make cards that say that? I need about 50 please.

Here are some guidelines that someone might find helpul when thinking of enrolling their three year old in dance:

1. Is your kid potty trained. I mean not only knows how to pee in the toilet, but knows how to ask to go potty in enough time that they don't pee all over my dance floor.

2. Can your child speak English? Or do theyill talk in baby jumbo mumbo?

3. If your child is running around screaming like a banshee while you are telling me they are well behaved and an angel, I'm not going to believe you.

4. If your kid hits, it's probably a good thing to deal with asap. If your child hits me, I will take their arm and march them out of the room deposit them into your hand (the one that is not holding the cell phone to your ear) and then turn around and lock the door behind me.

5. Your kid is only three, therefore I will not be giving her a solo part. So, don't be bitter and dissapointed when I don't. 

6. Don't stick your head in during my class and threaten your child with the belt if they don't behave.

7. The rules are: If you dance and obey the dance room rules you get a sticker. If you push the other kids, scream at the top of your lungs and try to smash my 300$ i-pod, you don't get a sticker.

8. If you miss 8 classes in a row and then show up he day of the concert, don't be surprised if your kid stands on stage crying her eyes out. And DON'T yell at me about "wasting your money." YOU wasted my time.

Honestly, people. You're giving me a migrane.

I have kept a journal pretty consistantly since I was in second grade. I have them all- probably about 60 notebooks- in a box in my closet. Every once in a while I pull it out and laugh at myself. I'll probably do the same thing in 10 years when I read this blog. Any way, here's an entry from when I ws ten that pretty much sums my pre-teen life up (all original spelling and punctuation). Just so you know, pretty much all my entries in this particular journal were along these lines.

Decembe 28, 1994

Sometimes I feel like nobody likes me becase to day I wanted to know how to spell masqutoe (right now I am gessing) and mom din't know koow know and so I asked dad he told me and I only heard herd m o s q u and I said "What" and he said "Look it up in the diconary" and I told him I din't want to and he said no and I said yes he said no and I yelled at him and he said go to you room and then mom yelled at me to. Thanks to dad tomarrow I'm not allowd to play with Joy or Sue. Maybe they'll now how to spell mosqutoe.

My poor hard life at age ten. Not only do I not know how to use punctuation or spell mosquito, everybody's out to get me.

Cambry is six months old! I cannot even believe it!!! She is growing up so much and I love her more than ever.

17.5 lbs and 26.5" long. 70th and 75th percentile.

She can sit up all on her own.

She can CRAWL! Well, pretty much. She pulls herself around by her arms and pushes with her legs but her belly isn't actually lifted off the foor.

She doesn't like rice cereal, formula, or peas. But she loves pears and drinking out of a "big girl" water bottle.

Cambry is still Daddy's girl. She even loves electronics. We gave her her own remote to chew on because the remote is her favorite thing.

She is starting to pull herself up.

She loves to laugh and giggle. Especially with Daddy.

She LOVES the swings.

She discovered how loud she can get and likes to sream at the top of her lungs if we stop paying attention to her.

Cambry just discovered she can splash in the bath and thinks it's so funny. She also is fascinated by the bubbles.