Deuces

What happened to your 7 month updates?  Sorry, mommy was busy chasing around her baby girl, and decorating the Christmas tree and removing wrapping paper and bows from the clutches of her baby girl's small hands. Mommy got side-tracked while taking too many photos and videos of her perfect baby girl learning to climb the stairs and learning to walk with her toys, pushing them along the floor so cleverly. Mommy was busy trying to tame her sweet daughter's frizzy hair that sticks up in all directions.  Mommy took her first extended workation away for several days. She missed her perfect daughter, but hopes that someday her little one will know why her mommy goes to work each day. She goes to work so her daughter will never want for all the things and experiences she deserves to have. Mommy also works because she likes to use big words around other adults and loves being a working girl.  Someday, you might want to be a working mom, too.  I'll teach you all abo...

What were the things you thought? Those white lies and fallacies you unwittingly believed for far too long. Please share- I'm dying for your company. Like, you know... were you one of those kids that erroneously used the word "death" when what you meant to say was "deaf"?  Don't deny it... you were, weren't you? I was not. I swear. I know I wasn't because I distinctly remember feeling both joyful and annoyed when I heard a classmate use the word incorrectly, even as a young girl.  But I wasn't immune to my own brain's inaccuracies or feeling like a complete buffoon on numerous occasions. In fact, Do you know what euthanasia is?  You know, that whole assisted death business initiated by the late Dr. Kevorkian? You know what it is, don't you? You do because you are wise and intelligent and awesome. But I remember I was the only student in my English 1B class at Chaffey College who didn't know what it was. I sat there, fron...

Today I pulled the "Woman". I try to avoid pulling the "Woman" at all costs because it sets us ladies back at least a decade. It's also pretty embarrassing. Today I ran out of my house to go pick up Sayler from daycare. As I ran out to my truck I became drenched in water coming from our lawn. Or was it the neighbor's lawn? Right on the border where our grasses meet the water shot out of the air forcefully, quickly soaking my  black yoga pants and black cotton top that fits too snugly since I've given birth. Whatever. 'Notha Issue, 'Notha Day.... Anyway, I quickly panicked, envisioning my water bill skyrocketing before my very eyes. I picked up my baby and upon returning called the water department and, in my most dramatic tone, explained how the water was going EVERYWHERE. "Well whose house is it coming from?" The operator inquired. "I don't really know," I said. "Well, go look at your meter, a...

I am staring at The Mess. The Mess, I won't lie, is pretty big. I cannot recollect when The Mess started, only that it is lingering around like a crazy, middle-aged man on the dance floor of some club that really doesn't understand that you DON'T want to dance with him. I am staring at The Mess. My daughter is playing in The Mess. The Mess is lots of toys, and some non-toys that have been fashioned into toys, and maybe some cracker bits embedded into the carpet. There is a sippy cup, a remote control, a baby beanie, and a hanger. I see a purse. It's one of mine. A small purse that is so cute and fashionable but becomes completely useless once you go from non-mom-to-mom. That is now, Sayler's purse. Of course she is mainly just interested in the zipper. It's shiny. The fact that it has a designer label means nothing to her.  (quasi-designer, anyway- let's not fool the readers into thinking Cambria could care two sheets ...

Do you know what saddle shoes are? These.  These are saddle shoes. Can you imagine me in saddle shoes? Do try. It's quite funny. My mom always loved saddle shoes. I always hated them. ALWAYS. But, for many years as a kid, I wore saddle shoes. I remember they had a really hard toe area, and I once catapulted off a set of jungle-gym rings and body slammed some kid to the ground while wearing those dreadful shoes.  It was a very Kung-Fu like maneuver and it was totally on purpose. I don't always remember everything about my childhood, but there are glimpses of people, events... things. And I remember the first time I finally told my mother I didn't want a new pair of saddle shoes to replace the former saddle shoes. Her response? "Okay, honey.  You don't have to get them.  We'll get you something else.... I always loved saddle shoes... I think they're so pretty......." I literally remember, in that moment at the shoe store, thinking ...

"Do you have a whore?" I stared at my husband intently as the accusation came flying from my lips. "Well...?" I pushed further. He smiled, that half-ways smile he often does when he thinks I'm being just a little bit dramatic. "Because if you have a whore, I'll find out and then I'll get full custody of Sayler and you'll only see her like, on holidays and one week each summer." He came back quickly... "why would you get full custody?" Me: "Moms always get full custody- and my brother's a lawyer so I'd take everything..." Yes. I use the word "whore." It makes people, including my husband, a little uncomfortable. Whore. ( n.) One who shacks up with another woman's man.  Usually ugly.  Never worth it.     And, admittedly, I have these insecure moments when I wonder whether my husband has a whore of his very own.  Like, when I'm feeling less-than...

Right Around 6... Updates , a photo by cambrialana on Flickr. As of our 6 month appointment, Monday, November 28th, Miss Sayler weighs 15 pounds, 7 ounces, 25.5 inches. She is into EVERYTHING and walks sideways along the land (no, that's not a Native American saying) she literally shuffles sideways whilst holding on to the furniture. She still loves cat ear delicacies, frowning at strangers and hiding bits of food in her hair. She has a very pretty gummy smile and frizzy locks that are hard to tame. Waiting for those first teeth to appear and for her to decide waking up at 1 a.m. each night isn't that interesting. Stay tuned. My daughter. Slow down. Hurry up. We can't decide.  You love to pull yourself up onto everything and anything.... us... the bed rails... the bars on your crib, the couch, laundry basket, carseat, ottoman...  You chase the cats.  We've never seen you crawl faster than when in pursuit of an animal... You still love to nibble on the ...