sweet victory

All I have to say for this day is, especially as my husband and the rest of this town are Beavers: Go Ducks!


the m and the p in my abc

I can't believe I have waited this long to introduce you all to two very important family members. It just goes to show how forgotten these members are ever since the A (Audrey) came into our world. Introducing Mosely (Mo) and Peeler. 
I got Mo from my cousin who picked him off of the street and paid way too much for him. We don't know what he is. Half pug? Half cat? Who knows? All I know is that he meows like a cat, enjoys getting his nails clipped, likes to spoon in bed and gets a lot of, "What is that?" when we go out walking. 

I got Mo as a puppy and it was just me & Mo. We did everything together and went everywhere together. Then I met Chris. Chris had a chocolate lab, Peeler (a logging term f.y.i.). I was pretty nervous to introduce them to each other.

Like Chris and I, Mo and Peeler were complete opposites. Mo is this diva and Peeler is a woods dog. Mo prefers 600 thread count and Peeler prefers a mat on the deck. But when those two met, they were instant brothers. Chris and I knew our family was meant to be. 

Chris and I had a lot of compromises to make however. Mo was an inside dog and Peeler was an outside dog. Chris says, "Dogs are meant to be outside." I didn't agree. I feel like they are your pets and meant to keep you company- not just sit outside. 

Chris would come home secretly and catch Mo in our bed. It was like catching me having an affair! So, the both of us caved a little and made sacrifices to make each other happy. Isn't marriage great? The pups have a rug we put out in the house and they stick to that rug. And to be honest, I have put them out more since they are both long haired and I am tired of vacuuming every second. 

Chris also was firm on making the dogs ride in the back of the pickup: rain, snow, wind, whatever...that is where they rode. But after my big baby lip telling him that, "Mo is just too little and gets cold," he let him ride on the floor in the truck. After awhile, I got used to Mo riding in the back and saw he actually loved it. And for cold days, Grandma got them dog coats...camo dog coats. Whenever we drive up to Portland, we get points, honks and laughs the whole way. 

I am thankful for having dogs first. Chris and I had two totally different parenting methods with our pups and had to meet in the middle.

Video: Mosely antagonizing his brother and Audrey getting a kick out of it. Sorry for the poor quality


happy birthday, mom

I've had many mommy moments of being exhausted, angry, frustrated and sad where I thought of you, mom. I thought of how to raised to wonderful daughters and gave us so much love. I want to be the mother that you are to us. 

Thank you for always putting bandages and Neosporin on our tiny scratches, always watching and smiling as we put on our shows, letting us be creative and imaginative even if that meant playing with the pots and pans or dressing up in your old prom dresses, tucking us in and singing to us every night (and knowing all the words...something I need to work on), getting up and making us a fabulous breakfast almost every morning, packing our lunches with little notes inside, driving me to school because I didn't want to take the bus, coming to all of my dance performances, picking me up and dropping me off at all the social events, always allowing us to not be scared of being honest, driving to Eugene when I was sick, still stuffing my stocking and sending me Easter presents, welcoming and treating my husband like your son, calling to make sure I am home safely, loving Audrey just as you love me, and showing me how to be a wonderful mother. Thank you. 

I love you & happy birthday.



audrey & owen on their date

a rant day

Well December is officially here and nothing welcomes it better than having to get up eight times for the baby or the dogs, being on the rag, waking up with a kink in my neck and a swollen toe, bills to pay and a house that is a disaster. 
Maybe Audrey gets the diva from me...

If God really knew what's up, there would be NO periods in December and NO bills. Everything would just go on a vacation. 

On the up side, if there is one, I am six pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight, Audrey is in a rather cheery mood this morning (most likely because she had a big poop. Funny how that controls her attitude), and I am nearly done with my Christmas shopping. 

I don't know what's up with baby anymore. Chris and I were so good about making and keeping a schedule for her regarding naps and she was really good up until Day Light Savings ended. After that she wanted to blend her 2/3 p.m. afternoon nap with nighttime sleep. She is also now waking up at 3 a.m. instead of 4/5 a.m. for her morning snack, and officially getting up around 6 a.m. Balls. 

It also didn't help that I read this informative but frightening article about SIDS. Chris and I are very careful about the information we take in because there are so many "no-nos" out there now built to just over worry you and over protect your child. The article had horrible baby death stories as they all do and said SIDS can happen up to 1-years-old. After freaking myself out, I came home and removed the bumper, pillows and excessive blankets from her crib. I also now check on her breathing at least once an hour. 

Losing the bumper has made Audrey go ballistic in the crib. She bangs her head on the bars and clings to them like a monkey in a cage. This causes her to wake up and yell a few times at night. Joy for me.  Especially when last night amidst the dark I ran into one of her several toys and now my toe is swollen. I did one of those quite but huge freak outs wanting to kick the wall in frustration and my husband caught me.

Her diva attitude has also shown its face recently. Chris and I are both mellow, and up until now- Audrey was too. I find myself actually looking at my 5-month-old and saying, "Audrey, NO!" Sometimes I know she is just complaining. She wants to be picked up, doesn't want to play with a certain toy anymore, doesn't want to see my face anymore, etc etc... I swear somewhere in her whines I hear, "But I WANT IT!"

My girlfriend brought her 3-month-old boy Owen over for a play date. I couldn't believe it: We put Owen in Audrey's Bumbo seat and she actually got jealous. She looked at him in that seat and just yelled. Sweet little Owen just sat around all night smiling and cooing while my Ms. Diva Pants made the whole house know that she is the queen.

I'm sure by the end of the day Audrey will be her diva self, my pounds will pile back on since I have been eating the mint Christmas M&M's I bought and there will be more bills to pay. 

Hello December!


reasons why my sister says I am a bad mother

My sister & baby. And she thinks I am the crazy one?
1. Audrey has fallen off the couch twice. I just hate locking her into any seat/toy she is in when she wants to explore. 

2. I put her in front of the television to entertain her. At least most of the time it is educational programs. 

3. I make her wear skinny jeans and nylons, and other uncomfortable, but such adorable outfits. 

4. We tried to bring her into a bar. OK, in my defense- I was trying to just get some food and this was a big restaurant/saloon. FYI: Babies are not allowed in bars. 

5. I let her cry. When she starts to yell, I am pretty calm and take my time getting her bottle or thinking about what she could want. Sometimes (and a lot lately), I know it is just attitude. This makes other people sweat. My husband is always going, "Hurry!" like she is going to burst and other people look at me and go, "Wow, you are really calm," which is code for "I am not calm so shush that baby up!"

6. If she looks interested, we let her taste almost everything including paper, hummus, beer and soap. 

7. Sometimes I let a few pees soak up that diaper before changing it...and sometimes I just forget that it has been a few hours. 

8. There are times I or we just need a break, but this is translated into trying to get rid of her.

9. I no longer make sure her bottle is perfect temperature. If it is too cold, she will let me know. 

10. We let the dogs lick her face. 

11. Sometimes we don't know where she is. We'll go to a big wedding and she just gets passed around. 

12. A mother does not always know...or at least this one. Chris will say, "What is wrong with her?" Most of the time I just guess, and the other times I seriously don't know.

part II: reasons why my sister says my mom was a bad mother

1. Mom rubbed Whiskey on our gums when teething.

2. Mom had one glass of champagne during pregnancy. 

3. Mom would let my sister bring home frogs she caught and then accidentally vacuum them up. 

4. They would bring me to parties -they were 22-years-old and the first to have a baby out of their friends.

5. Mom gave my sister Diet Pepsi in a bottle. 

6. The many times my sister decided to be a vegetarian (with the exception of chicken), we would order pork and tell her it was chicken. 

We both turned out pretty darn well I must say, so WELL DONE MOM!

My sister is smart, beautiful and talented. I don't know why she doesn't want to have children...and sometimes I know exactly why she doesn't. But she is only 19, and while some parenting strategies are looked upon as outlandish - being a parent is tough work! And to all the other mothers, we can't be perfect and it is too exhausting to try. Cheers to you being a mom. 


lucky girl

More than eight million people live in the Big Apple. With a good pair of stilettos, I stomped the cement for three months working at Lucky magazine to find that the Big Apple was not so big, but small.

Suffocating with big buildings, big dreams and big bank accounts, you also find many small patience levels, small waistlines and very small spaces.

I lived on the Upper West Side between Central Park and Riverside Park. My sidewalks were not filled with camera-clutching tourists, Wall Street guppies or the Harlem crowd, but consumed with strollers being pushed by nannies, runners and small dogs. Edie Falco and David Hyde Pierce were among my neighbors in my shared, large two-bedroom apartment with a kitchen, air conditioning and not-so-bad-for-New York rent. I would pinch myself if I started to miss home - but I couldn't help it. 

Scraping the sky and plunked in the middle of Times Square is a place where the most popular stories and reputations are born and a place where piles and piles of Tiffany's diamonds, Manholo Blanik pumps and Fendi bags lye. This was my work? I say it with a question mark because it still boggles my mind.

Fergie said it right, "Flossy, flossy." Days at the magazine were spent in tinted Lincoln's gathering diamonds for Heidi Clum, getting A-lister gossip from the stylists, sneaking up to Vogue to catch a glimpse of Ms. Anna Wintour, more couture clothing than a small city and spending lunch breaks among the most fashionable, gorgeous people. Weekends were spent drinking $15 martinis, gazing at original Picasso's, shopping Fifth Avenue, eating at outdoor caf├ęs and people watching in Central Park.

Yes, it was glamorous, but just like done-up hair - everything goes flat eventually. After awhile I turned off Fergie and went back to Dave Matthews, threw my hair up and traded in the pumps for flips. My love affair with New York had turned astray. My feet ached and were constantly swollen about two sizes above normal, I was tired of the sweaty subway packed with people that would fall like Jenga's when it moved, rats nearly trampling your feet walking home at night, looking out my bedroom window to a brick wall, people never saying "excuse me" and, of course, the cockroaches.

I missed large, empty aisles at the grocery store, being able to know people walking down the street, courteous drivers giving you waves and smiles, buying a beer that didn't cost more than $10 and, well, seeing endless amounts of trees.

New York is a fascinating place, but when I came home it wasn't about the fashion shows or five-star dining; it was about living. I arrived in New York with one thing in mind: career. I found the Big Apple was like a fake designer bag. It feels real and it looks real, but you know that none of it is real. That, and it falls apart very fast. I left New York knowing that I wanted more: a family, children, a house and wide open spaces. I didn't want the large publishing company, I wanted to go back to the small news desk. In the end, what was having the hottest designer wear, getting my picture with celebrities or writing about shoes all my life going to do for me?  We are working to live, opposed to living to work. New York is for some people and that is great. I came to find it was not for me.

I guess my wishes came true. Here I am- married, baby, news desk and very, very wide open spaces. I'll say it again: Life is good.


fav Christmas cd this year

remembering the meaning

As I started my Christmas decorating, I realized that I am accumulating more and more decor every year even though we still have the same size house. I listened to the radio Christmas tunes and didn't hear more than two songs about Jesus- not even the classics like Silent Night or Away in the Manger. Have we lost that Christmas is about the birth of Christ?
Chris & I (preggo) as Mary & Joesph at the parade Nativity Scene

Chris and I both came from families with Christmas traditions- mine being a little bit more over the top. My dad would get neighbors to dress up as Santa and run past the windows during Christmas Eve getting all the children to run and peek out each window with eyes as big as apples. Stalkings are still stuffed magically when us kids (now all adults) wake up in the morning, Santa still takes a bite out of a cookie and drinks all his milk, and reindeer still make loud bashes on our roof Christmas Eve. There are always millions of Christmas presents that overflow the living room and look simply beautiful under a huge, REAL Christmas tree. 
Now being parents, Chris and I want all those traditions that we had as children. But, as we have watched over the last few years, it is so important that while we hang up twinkle lights and listen to Christmas music day and night until after the 25th - we can't forget what Christmas is about. Chris and I even have to try and keep our focus amongst the shopping, blown-up snowman's and turkey, so how do we raise a child with all the wonderful traditions and a heart that knows it is about the birth of Jesus?

It is easy to get carried away in the "magic" of Christmas and not the magic that happened the very first Christmas. We will again try our hardest this year to remember and cherish what the season is about and enjoy our first Christmas with Audrey. 

Merry Christmas!

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