Laundry...Dun Dun DUN!

Okay, okay. I know this is a really, really dull title, but I must share this. Never in my life have I ever pretreated more clothes than when my little girl started eating comida. I mean look at this! You wouldn't know it, but that's squash!


That's just wrong, right? So everytime I do her clothes, not only do I think about getting more bibs, I also praise these two pre-treaters:

They are just awesome. And they do the job.

See? Nobody mentions the little things about having kids--like the extra time you have to spend pre-treating clothes in the laundry room! The next friend of mine who has a baby shower is gonna get a huge supply of Shout Advanced and Tide Stain Remover. They. Save. The. Day. That is all. I'm gonna go shop for bibs now.

What a Whammy

Click on this button.

I first started reading this blog when I first discovered I was pregnant. So I guess since last May! I wasn't looking for anything to read--in fact, I was looking for ideas to decorate my wedding. But go figure, I ended up sticking around and virtually befriended Joanne Heim.

I guess it was how real she was in her blog that made me want to read more. She is a kindred spirit to so many because she just laid it all out when she wrote. I was hooked reading about her parenting, family, faith, crafts, cooking, running, and random stories. I even Facebook messaged her once and told how much I had taken to her blog, because I was starting a family myself. She replied and we had a mini chat about having kids.

A little over a month ago Joanne suffered a major stroke. Weeks ago, her family was hoping she would come out of her coma. Then she woke. They prayed that she would open her eyes and speak. She does now! On her blog, she wrote this:

Somedayim going to go home and walk and run.n

To me, that was a whammy! And it honestly made my day. It is such a simple statement. It's not a request, or a wish, or a hope, or even a prayer. But there she is, barely two months after a stroke and boldly stating that it's going to happen.

She's been making such amazing progress and I wanted to share her story today. I've never met her in person, but I admire her strength.

My Little Girl

Look at her.

Look at her grabbing her little feet and lookin' so darn cute.

Oh, she just makes me melt.

That was her lounging on the floor at the office today having a grand old time kicking and gurgling and grabbing her feet. This was after changing her outfit covered in spit-up and before taking off the little shirt because it was so flipping hot at work. Most of the day, she was just hanging out in her bloomers happy as a clam getting picked up and entertained by her Auntie Mary and Mae during their breaks.

I love those bloomers, by the way. Her grammies have been finding her some pretty psychadelic 70's patterns and styles and they are awesome. With baby clothes, I say the more colorful and patterned the better because us adults sure as hell can't get away with that stuff!

A Couple I Love

Every other week, sometimes every week, the family hangs out with the Mr.'s very old friend Kory and his girlfriend Elise. We love them because we just mesh really well with them--and that's a blessing when you consider that Chris and Kory first became friends when they played soccer in grade school. We usually  watch a movie while we have dinner and then move on to a board game.

Last week, Kory forgot to bring his apparently awesome game. So, staring at our diminutive (but awesome) game selection, we agreed on Scrabble. After the Mr. trying to pass off "Cabo" as a word and not just the shortened name of a city, we decided to play doubles and together we made "bootleg". From there, it was just fun! With fourteen letters per team, we made words like "shoveling" and "grapples" and "cinnamon". Here is our amazing board.

It's still sitting on our dining table just like that. I don't have the heart to put it away just yet, because we were just so darn proud of it.

The Mr.'s List

In class yesterday, the Mr.'s professor discussed stressors and passed out worksheets for them to list four positive and four negative stressors in their lives. On the back, she had them write down two lists: Favorite Life Experiences and What Would You Do With Six Months to Live? These were my Mr.'s lists:

I love him so very much. And yes, if you're looking at that very last one--it does say "teach my wife to swim". That is one life lesson I need to figure out, and it would probably take him all six months to teach me.

Suck It Up, Lady!

After a week off work because the ladies at the office needed space to do their owners' statements, I found myself at work today feeling pret-ty sluggish. I didn't want to be there, I didn't want to work. I wanted to do what I had a chance to do all week last week: curl up on the couch with my hubby, and baby, and dog and just be together. Not this pseudo "togetherness" where I take Dianna and the dog to the office and basically semi-ignore them to concentrate, while the Mr. periodically checks in on Skype to see how we're doing.

Now, I realize that we have a pretty unique situation. Because both the Mr. and I work for his dad, we can bring the whole brood to the office and everyone's okay with it. In fact, when little Dianna's not there, Poppy (the Mr.'s dad) and Mary (my co-worker/Poppy's assistant) miss her. We're pretty lucky to have that flexibility, because I love being so close to her at all times.

But today was one of those days when I just wanted to give up and go home--right when I got there.

Unfortunately for us, we've got a lot of making up to do this week. So this is me suckin' it up.

(Sucking it up...)
(Sucking it up...)
(Sucking it up...)


A conversation I just had with the Mr.:

Mr.: Baby, I have something to tell you.
Me: Mhm...
Mr.: I don't know if you'v heard the rumors going around, but I'm gonna be this year's Sexiest Man Alive.
Me: Oh (chuckle) okay, baby.
Mr.: No really, baby, what would you think if that happened?
Me: Eh, I guess it woud be okay. As long as you weren't fernoodling around.
Mr.: Did you just say fernoodling? What does that even mean?
Me: Messing around, hanging out with groupies, etc.
Mr.: (Laughs) You are adorable, you should blog that.

So, FERNOODLING (fur-nood-ul-ing): snuggling, fondling, or messing around with women who are not your significant others.


An Update

Well, my dad didn't end up in his barong. Never did ask him why, but it was a really nice time! My parents looked so nice. Look at that couple of 25 years. My cousins ended upcoming and we had dinner at my dad's favorite Chinese restaurant that our family has been going to since we moved to Las Vegas over a decade ago.

For some time, we knew the guys who worked there. But over the years, they've come and gone, and now the only constant thing there is incredibly tasty food and my parents' steady patronage.

Just a few hours ago today, the Mr.'s little brother got his first dirtbike. A Honda 50 with apparently tons of upgrades. I can hardly tell the difference! When the guy who owned it came, he wheeled it over sadly, handing Chris the bike saying, "Here's my baby" and then "If you ever want to sell this thing, sell it back to me!" The deal was to sell him our temperamental ATV for parts for his souped up Honda 50 plus $300. So, not a bad deal to the boys. I say, not too shabby if the moolah comes from the Mr.'s bro and not us. Phew! They had a good time riding it around and they're already naming it the fallback for when the other dirt bikes go out.


My mom and dad are getting their vows renewed today after 25 years of marriage. How sweet. They honestly sprang this on us last week and we were all so surprised to hear about it as we checked and rechecked our planners.

While my parents were at my house for my birthday, my dad was resisting the caloric temptation layered so heavily on my dining table because he had to fit into his old barong. For those of you who aren't Filipino, a barong is a very delicate Filipino dress shirt made out of pineapple husks. Sound a bit odd? Are you asking how that material could possibly be delicate? Here's a picture:

That's Quentin Tarantino at the 2008 Golden Globes in a barong--go figure! But that's what one looks like.

Anyway, I can't wait to go today. The Mr. and I have some serious homework to do beforehand and after the fact, so we are going to thoroughly enjoy ourselves while we're out with family. I'll put up pictures from the ceremony later while I'm procrastinating on that homework.

Happy Sunday!

When I turned 21

This was me...

This was me, too.
My birthday was somehow a disaster most of the day. It was one of those days when I hate to admit that I let my hormones and what have you get the best of me. For some reason, I cried nonstop. And I feel terrible for my man who was doing everything he could for me and I kept sobbing uncontrollably. He made me breakfast and surprised me with gifts from all of my family. What an inconvenient day to just let it out.

And when I stop and try to think about why I was a complete mess, I can't pinpoint anything. It was a combination of turning another year older, turning 21, wanting to do things that day that just didn't ever happen, my daughter getting older by the day, considering the optimal age difference when having kids, taking a pregnancy test, the test being negative, finishing school, everything, everything, everything. I guess that explains the tears.

Then suddenly right around seven that night, I was done. I was ready to see the family and friends over at house that I so clearly said I didn't really want to see--and I was genuinely happy when they were here. We ate food and cake, played games, talked and joked. I was a roller coaster when I turned 21.

Oh. What. A. Birthday.

Helllooo, World!

I am 21 now. Don't know about you, but I don't feel particularly different. Not even wiser--and not because I drank that all away.

Truth is, I'm not much of the partying type. I'm of the getting married early in life and having a baby type. So I look at this birthday with some completely mixed feelings. Pride at the thought of all I've managed to accomplish with the love of my life and the newest love of my life. Awe at the mere number, because I'm sitting here thinking, "Where the hell did all the time go?!" And confusion at the idea that I could care less about legally drinkin--but shouldn't I care?

 These questions cross my mind from time to time and I swat them away, because, well, it's my birthday! So happy birthday to me!
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