36 years

I am a Halloween baby. Born on October 31, 1972 at 3:21 PM. As the story goes, my dad told my mom that she could give birth any time - EXCEPT ON TUESDAY! See, Tuesday was bowling night. My dad did not want to miss bowling night.

October 31, 1972 is...you guessed it. A Tuesday. Thankfully I arrived early enough in the day that my dad could still go bowling. I'd like to think he was so overjoyed by my arrival that he threw a perfect game, but alas, he probably just handed out a few cigars and threw a few strikes.

I have always loved my birthday. And yes, even at this age having a Halloween birthday has always felt like a special day to have a birthday. Of course, having never had any other birthday maybe it just feels special because it's MY birthday.

For the first 18 years of birthday's, I had some awesome parties. My mom would dress up and throw great parties where we'd play games like bobbing for apples, or drop the clothes-pin in the jar. My friends and I (and my brother and his best friend, Kirk) always went trick 'r treating, back in the days where you had to have a costume that allowed for a big bulky coat either underneath or on top. We used pillow cases to carry all of our loot and we went from house to house to house (no mall for climate-controlled candy-getting).

From 19 on, friends were starting to get kids of their own so Halloween meant taking kids trick 'r treating and when I met Chris, we started going out on my birthday, just the two of us. But now we have Carley, and Halloween no longer means it's my birthday. It's about Carley and her dressing up.

I love Halloween for the fact that it's Halloween and Carley gets to dress up and have fun. I've decided my birthday is now on November 1st. I don't want Carley to have to share fun days like Halloween (or her birthday, which unfortunately for her is our wedding anniversary).

So tomorrow I'll quietly turn 36 years old, and I will enjoy the day as a parent, watching my daughter have a great time.

Poor pooh

Last night we gave Carley a bath, and she has a fabric Winnie the Pooh that hangs on the wall that holds Carley's bath toys. We've always pointed to Pooh and said 'hi' to Pooh during bath time, but he's never come off the wall and we've never played with him. He's just been a silent observer.

After Carley was changed, she came with me to empty the bathtub of her water. Poor Pooh fell off the wall and landed in the soapy water. I picked him up, hoping to just hang him back up but then decided that I needed to clean him off before doing so.

I scrunched up Pooh and violently shook him in the water to clean him up. Carley's reaction to this was one of horror! She screamed loudly as if I was drowning Pooh. She was obviously scared about what I was doing and wanted me to stop, but since she couldn't say "stop!" she screamed. It totally broke my heart. She looked back at Chris, sitting at the computer, as if to say "I can't believe mom tried to drown Pooh!".

It was so heartbreaking and she went back into the bathroom several times before bed to check on Pooh to make sure he was okay.

No worries, Carley, I love Pooh too.

Pumpkin Patch

Our annual trip the pumpkin patch was Friday, the 24th and the weather was perfect. It didn't rain (rarity for near Halloween), it wasn't windy or too cold. My mom came with us and Carley loved seeing all the pumpkins in the patch. We ran (and fell) in the dirt looking at pumpkins and scarecrows and Carley would stop and say "hi" to any kids that went by. But the best part was riding the tractor around the pumpkin patch.


I'm convinced that Carley is going to be a farmer. She loves tractors. She wants to ride them all the time. Poor kid was so upset every time we had to get off the tractor.

We did manage to make our way to the petting zoo, where there were goats and a donkey and rabbits and a pony. She would often say hi to the animals, and wave to them, and when we got to the pony, she squated down and would say "hoooorrrssee" loudly. It's a new thing. She does it with my parents cat, following her around saying "cat! cat!". The pony didn't seem to mind and I thought it was really cute.


This is her just looking at the pony...nice and peaceful.






This is her shouting at the pony.










Overall it was a fun day. It's hard with an almost 2 year old who wants to be independent, but it was well worth taking the day off from work.

Nothing much...

Not much going on with our family lately. Chris is working alot, Carley is growing like a weed and saying so many new words and I'm still trucking along. I have, however, started going to the gym again.

Before I got pregnant, and in order to GET pregnant, I worked out 1 hour to 1 1/2 hours a day, every single day. I did this for about 2 years or so. I felt great and looked great, losing 50 lbs. I even continued to go while pregnant, and I really think that had a lot to do with how easy my pregnancy and delivery were. But, as with most things I did B.C. (before Carley), working out has been put on the backburner. I could never justify having Carley with a babysitter for 9 hours a day and then put her in day care while I worked out. I sort of figured that I would just get back once she was, say, 15 years old?

It doesn't work that way for me, so I've been going to the gym on my lunch hour at work. Luckily I can eat my lunch when I get back and it's been working out great. I've been able to read my books on my Kindle (more on that later), listen to podcasts and the best part is, when I get home at night I feel like I have tons of energy to play with Carley. And I think I'll need it. With the weather getting cruddy and getting dark at 5, we need to find things to do inside.

I feel great and I don't miss my lunch hour like I thought I might.

I love you mommy

I now understand why so many parents whose kids come through juvenile court want to be their kids friends more than their parents - because the discipline part sucks. I am starting to hate the discipline part. Carley is coming up on 2 years old and there are times when she doesn't listen well. Chris is very gentle, both in speaking and handling Carley. Not to say that I'm rough, but my language can be loud when I'm trying to get her attention.

It kills me when Carley doesn't listen and acts up and I feel like a jerk when I need to get stern with her. So for the last few days I've been down in the dumps. It has seemed like Carley has preferred everyone else. As much as I welcome a break now and then, I do admit that going from being her number 1 to number 12 hurts. But it's just a test.

Today I had an unexpected day off when my babysitter called in sick. I was feeling even worse because of it. Carley and I were getting ready to go to the park and she was sitting on the couch while I got my shoes on and out of no where Carley says "Wahee, Mama. Wahee, Mama".

In Carley-speak, she's saying "I love you, mommy". I was so touched that I cried and I'm not afraid to admit that. She has only spontaneously said "I love you" about 5 times to everyone else - including Elmo, but she has never said it with a name attached, so for her to say "Wahee, Mama" was the best thing to ever happen to me today.

No Tumors

Not that I expected I'd have a brain tumor, but it was definitely reassuring to get my MRI results KNOWING that my momentary confusion had nothing to do with my brain. Interestingly, they did find a sinus infection and a benign cyst on my sinus. who knew? I'm not worried about the cyst and the incident has kicked me in the ass to get back to the gym and eat right and take better care of myself. And who knows, maybe this will help in our attempts to have another baby too.

I've ALWAYS said...everything happens for a reason and I truly, truly believe that. You can't always see the reason at the time, but in hindsight you can.

Wah-hee

Today, Carley is 20 months old. She has been talking since 8 months, most of it I have to interpret, but 99% of the time I know what she's talking about.

When we say good night to Carley we say "I love you" and when we prompt her to say "I love you" in return she says "wah-hee", which we take to mean "I love you."

This morning, as I was changing her diaper, she requested to hold Elmo, everyone's favorite Sesame Street monster. She laid on the table, hugging Elmo and for the first time, without prompting, she said "wah-hee". It was so adorable.

Of course, I wish her first "i love you" was meant for me or her dad, but really, how can we compete with Elmo?