Candid Perspective

2008-11-13T14:41:00.004-06:00

This morning was a fuss fest. I think Miss Anna is super tired from all of her new adventures.

Last night, Uncle Brandon, Kyler and Uncle Troy-Troy came by to visit.

After accosting Kyler for the rights to the ride-on pony, she ferociously fought the battle against walking, refused to eat dinner and stayed up restless for half the night.

I guess I bragged too soon.

We have reach equilibrium.

Much progress...

Much rebellion...

Here's to a night of peace and quiet.

...And realism.

I have my hands full with this one.

Anna the Walker

2008-11-12T08:43:00.002-06:00

Anna had her 1st birthday on November 2nd.

One week and two days later was a day for accomplishments.

Yesterday was a bit of a fussy evening for Miss Anna, but despite the periodic whimpers, she learned quite a bit in the hour between when Momma got home and bedtime.

First things first: When Little Miss was eating dinner, I handed her a spoon despite the potential mess danger involved with such a task. She handled it perfectly. I scooped the food and handed her the spoon. She would then plop her utensil upside down directly onto her taste buds.

She was so proud of herself that she started giving me high-fives (with much prompting from me, of course). It was so stinkin' cute. She would take a bite, high five, then chuckle. Over and over again.

As if that wasn't enough....the next accomplishment.....
DRUM ROLL PLEASE.....

ANNA TOOK HER FIRST STEPS!!!!!

Very reluctantly.

One step. Drop down. Crawl.
One step. Drop down. Crawl.

Chris reset her to standing position several times because she wanted to crawl to her desired destination instead of walk.

But we conquered one step, nonetheless.

We practiced again this morning before work using Momma's cell phone as incentive.

She walked THREE steps this time before dropping to the ground to crawl.

I'm so proud!!!

She'll be walking everywhere before too long.

....And then I'll wonder why in the world I encouraged this.

Oops!

2008-11-12T08:39:00.002-06:00

Wow! I can't believe it's been so long since I blogged.

Not only did I fall off of the blog wagon, but I scratched my knee, broke my arm and bruised my face on the way down. What a miserable blog failure.

I'm back and hopefully more faithful than I have been in the last couple of months.

Grrrrrr....

2008-09-25T07:00:00.006-05:00

At a recent visit, my friend Crystal pointed out Anna Faith's very strange frustration behavior, which I apparently tend to ignore.

Are you ready for this?

She 'growls'.

This scruffy warning signals an impeding temper tantrum, usually as a result Mommy's inability to allow her to eat various functioning remotes, cables, etc... Or making her torturously sit in the high chair to eat...Or possibly the retreival of the mobile monster from her determined climbing destination.

The audible alarm is kinda cute, but I completely hope she outgrows it...and soon.

Where did she learn this?, you might ask.

Dexter.

When Anna gets too near or he feels the need to protect Junior from her, our little weiner enforcer lets out a low cautionary growl--not one preempting a bite or harm but sheer intimidation.

Anna hears this quite often. Thus, she is apparently try to repeat this behavior.

Let's hope her copycat tendencies will stop here...at least when it comes to her four legged examples.

Damaged Goods

2008-09-22T08:26:00.002-05:00

I'm back. And damaged.

I'm almost 100% positive Anna Faith broke my nose Friday evening.

The reason for my hypothesis:
1) It cracked really loud.
2) It bled.
3) Three days later, it still hurts.

Chris and Anna were playing peek-a-boo while I, the innocent bystander, was comfortable in bed.

Before I knew it, her noggin landed on my nose with the force of a stampeding elephant.

The wuss that I am, I started crying like a baby.

Chris couldn't figure out what was wrong with me.

He quickly discovered the problem and has heard me complain ever since.

Anna Faith - 1. Momma - 0.

2008-09-15T08:26:00.000-05:00

Check back in a little bit. Anna was sick from Thursday til now, so things have been crazy.

Dracula

2008-09-11T08:24:00.002-05:00

Anna has two new teeth.

Two bottom center occupants sat lonely until last week. Then another resident popped through. A week later, another.

The locations of these sprouting bones are a little out of ordinary. They are not in the top center, as one would expect. No, she has one tooth on each side of the center vacancies.

Hopefully, the others will come in soon.

Otherwise, we will have to trade in her 50's poodle skirt and purse for another Halloween costume--one with a black cape, white face and a dab of fake blood on the corner of her mouth.

Only my child.....

Yum

2008-09-09T08:30:00.005-05:00

Some women experience pica during pregnancy, a weird drive to eat the inedible--things like dirt, paper, coal, etc.

I cannot add this to my pregnancy resume.

However, Anna's attraction to the toilet paper roll in our bathroom suggests otherwise.

She is completely fascinated by the Charmin. She pulls small pieces off the roll, rubs it between her fingers, then shoves it directly into her mouth.

And she chews. And chews.

This bubble gum of sorts is a concern for me. I try to keep her away from the prized snack.

I have even resorted to taking the TP off the dispenser and placing it on the countertop. Then, when I think I have the all-clear, I put it back where it belongs.

A few minutes later, my speed demon somehow manages to crawl into the bathroom quicker than I can move. And of course, she goes straight for the toilet paper.

I can't figure out if she likes it because its so easily grasped or if she likes it because she knows it's off limits.

All I know is the bathroom door will have to stay closed to prevent my curious monster from eating any more paper noodles.

2008-09-08T09:59:00.002-05:00

I have a very important announcement to make, in case you haven't heard.

Click here for more information.

And direct any questions to my campaign manager because as the previous link indicates, I am a very popular person these days.

;)

Armageddon

2008-09-07T17:39:00.003-05:00

The end of the world began swiftly for Kyler as a cascading flood of red drink and ice poured from its Styrofoam container directly down his shirt and pants, into his socks and eventually puddled in his shoes.

The culprit of this misadventure--Anna Faith.

As I leaned over, so Miss Anna could give Kyler a goodbye hug, she grabbed his moist nourishment and caused it to tumble.

Pure accident in an adult's eyes. In Kyler's eyes, Anna did the unforgivable.

In fact, he immediately sprung up out of his chair in disgust. He took off his wet shirt, shorts, socks and shoes and stood there dressed in nothing but anger and a pull up.

As we scurried to unsticky the floor, out of nowhere comes the voice of doom and a shake of the finger. "No, no Anna. That's not nice." He repeated this several times along with "Not nice, Anna. I had to take my clothes off."

We cleaned the mess, all the while chuckling at the disappointed Kyler and his annoyance with his baby cousin.

When we were ready to leave, I asked him. "Are you mad at Anna?" He looked at me as if I was the dumbest person on earth and said, "Um, ya-a."

I told him bye and that Anna loves him and didn't mean to spill his drink. I followed up with, "Are you glad we're leaving." To which, I received the exact same response as the previous question.

Third time's always a charm, so I decided on another question as we exited. "Do you still love Anna?"

"Yes."

But no hugs, kisses or waves goodbye.

Domino Effect

2008-09-02T08:13:00.006-05:00

We had a very nice Labor Day weekend where we did almost nothing, which was a great change.

However, Anna had a raging case of diaper rash. That combined with a dose of a challenging temperament led to an interesting bedtime routine last night...

Anna loves the blinds in her room. Well, probably not so much the blinds themselves but the ear piercing slam they make when slung against the window. I told her twice not to mess with them. She looked at me, went around my legs and did it again.

At that point, I picked her up and set her in the bed for literally no longer than 2 minutes. She wailed and wailed. After her dramatic brush with the unfathomable crib doom, I rescued her from the prison and consoled her while explaining (in very basic terms) the importance of listening to Momma.

When she finally calmed down, I noticed she had a poopy diaper.

I put her down on her changing table. Thus, the battle ensued again. Tears. Tears. And more tears.

At this point, I felt a tiny twinge of pity for her because the diaper rash was causing extreme discomfort.

I held her for a couple of minutes and gently laid her back on the changing table to apply diaper rash cream and a butt cover.

You would have thought I was breaking her fingers one by one.

I was going as quickly as possible because I knew her little bottom hurt.

Finally, another step conquered.

Then I did the unthinkable.

I dressed her for bed.

She screamed bloody murder while I put her arms in her pajamas.

I finally resigned and left them half in the sleeves.

Her fingertips eventually made their way out.

She finally calmed down...once she realized there were no more diaper or clothes changes...or discipline. Just a bottle and bed.

She crashed for the night immediately thereafter.

Thank God.

This episode alone pooped me out for the week.

Udders

2008-08-29T08:40:00.002-05:00

Anna has a unique crawling method.

She uses one leg for power and the other for steering. While one leg is moving rapidly to transport her little body, the other helps her turn on a dime.

I've always affectionately referred to that leg as her steering leg.

Yesterday, Mom and Dad (MeMe and Papa) came over for a quick visit.

Anna was crawling in her normal crazy fashion when MeMe said, "What do you call that leg? Her udder?"

Chris and I looked at her like she was nuts, and Chris asked her what the heck she was talking about.

MeMe replied with a need-you-ask-look on her face, "Boats use udders to steer."

We all looked confused until Chris cleared the air.

"Boats don't have udders. They have rudders."

We all had a good laugh.

It was udder-ly hilarious.

Bumper Walker

2008-08-27T08:11:00.005-05:00

Part of me thinks its funny. Part of me cringes in sympathy.

Anna scoots around in her Elmo walker on a daily basis. Usually, she prefers to terrorize by crawling rather than have the restrictive plastic surroundings of the bumper cart.

However, she recently learned how to chase the dogs in her weapon.

Dexter moves much faster than Junior. So, in most instances, he escapes his speed bump fate.

Junior, on the other hand, is usually focused on other things--like food--and isn't paying attention to the ramming bull charging at his back legs.

She hits him at full force and laughs as he scurries to catch his footing.

She thinks he's playing. We know otherwise.

Poor Junior. He's very patient, and she definitely takes advantage of his kindness and his knees.

We try to protect him by preventing her attacks.

However, Dexter is free game. If she can catch him, she can have him.

That's probably why he hates her.

Free Toys!

2008-08-25T10:52:00.007-05:00

"You can have it, Anna."

"Here, Tara. Take it home. Anna wants it."

My pile got rather large rather quickly.

Kyler was in a giving mood yesterday. As he and Anna played in his room, he transferred every toy he thought she might like from his toy collection to hers.

He was very insistent too.

After giving her his car trailer, his parrot, some books, Elmo, and his Cars house shoes, he was willing to let her have even more.

It was very endearing to watch him share his belongings. He was willing to sacrifice any childish material to his baby cousin.

HOWEVER,

He was not willing to let his toys suffer the fate of........Anna's mouth.

One by one, they each became his property again as they entered the doomed saliva pit.

He would fuss and tell her, "No, no, Anna. Get that out of your mouth."

"Tara, Anna is eating my toys. Make her stop."

Indian giver.

*For the record, I would have never taken any of Kyler's toys home. He was so sweet and cute. I was very proud of his willingness to share.

Like Uncle, Like Niece

2008-08-22T13:28:00.000-05:00

Some traits are genetic. Some are learned.

In this case, I argue genetics.

Anna Faith loves her Uncle Troy-Troy. She has his height, his blue eyes (and Uncle Brandon's too), and his perspective on life.

Case in point:

Exhibit A

I have no idea what they are looking at, though it's most likely Kyler riding his bicycle. Notice is the facial expressions. Almost exactly the same.

Exhibit B

Totally different direction. Same expressions.

Priceless.

Major K

2008-08-21T08:05:00.006-05:00

There are a few things my almost-3-year-old nephew doesn't understand about life.

For instance, a) Why doesn't Anna talk, walk or play like a big kid? b) Why can't Anna have the tortilla chip he snuck her? And most importantly, c) Why does Anna get to 'spit' when he gets timeout for doing the same?

As most parents know, babies go through a stage when they 'raz'. In an adult's eyes, it's really cute. In this toddler's eyes, it's spitting.

Yesterday, we were sitting at my Mom and Dad's house when Uncle Brandon razzed at Anna to get a chuckle from her. Kyler whipped his head around, scoldingly looked at Anna, then said, "You get timeout for that, Anna."

We laughed.

His daddy then admitted to his fault. Immediately thereafter, Kyler shook his finger at the offender and sent him to timeout. Brandon obliged.

The funnest part: Kyler told his Daddy, "You sit there. Don't move. You get up, I spank you. Papa and Tara will spank you too. Don't touch that wall. Face forward. When you done, you say you're sorry."

After apologizing and laughing at authoritarian K, we made sure not to 'spit' or make any false moves. None of us wanted to sit in the naughty chair or experience the wrath of Kyler's corporal punishment.

No Dose

2008-08-20T07:55:00.000-05:00

I spoke too soon.

I didn't knock hard enough.

Anna didn't go to sleep until LATE last night. I think she has her dad's I-don't-want-to-miss-anything sleeping habits. She gets too excited about her surroundings that she doesn't want to dose off with the misfortune of missing a fun siting or destructive adventure.

Maybe I should accept the fact that my bedtime will no longer be the same.

I have the sleeping habits of an 80 year old, and my daughter has the wakefulness of a teenager.

Maybe she'll go to sleep early tonight.

Wish me luck!

...if it exists.

Mashed Mask

2008-08-19T08:28:00.004-05:00

Those without children are probably unfamiliar with any Barney song. Lucky for me, I have a child who loves the annoying purple blob and his cohorts P.J. and Baby Bop.

One song is constantly stuck in my head due to the torturous dinosaur adventures.

If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gum drops, oh what a rain that would be...

Most kids would probably agree whole heartedly with this tune. Except for my little Anna Faith.

Her tune would probably sport the lyrics:

If all the raindrops were mashed potatoes, oh what a rain that would be...

This weekend, she discovered the wonderful world of carbohydrates--and she loved it.

While making shepherd's pie for lunch, I was trying to keep her patient a little longer, so I did what any parent would do. I bribed her with food -- a small scoop of mush directly plopped onto her high chair. I turned my back for a moment, only to be surprised by this:

She was so proud of herself.

I laughed hysterically.

Anna the Grouch

2008-08-18T12:01:00.004-05:00

"They" say when a child is getting ready to conquer the next developmental stage, his or her sleep patterns may suffer.

In this situation, "they" know what they are talking about.

Last week, Anna Faith refused to sleep. Her normal bedtime of 7:30 p.m. was extended to 11:30 p.m. on most nights. After coaxing her to eventual sleep, she would wake up in the middle of the night, toss and turn and fuss her way back to sleep over and over again. Then she would wake up at about 5:30 a.m.

She would approached each day with a frown and a grump. If we would set her down, she would cry. If we tried to feed her, she would cry. She wasn't sick--just fussy and very clingy.

Needless to say, I was working on almost zero sleep and was a complete zombie. Last week, survival was the key. Thus, no blogs.

This week, the tables have turned. Anna is happy. Her developmental masterpiece--She is standing by herself. Well, at least until she realizes she's standing, then she falls in a panic. She has gone to bed at her normal time, and she's all grins in the mornings. Daddy even asked her who sprinkled her with sugar since she's been so sweet.

I'm glad that phase is behind her.

Knock on wood.

2008-08-18T08:23:00.003-05:00

I promise I will write later. I have been really busy. I will return to my daily blogs this week.

Confucius Say

2008-08-11T08:19:00.006-05:00

Cute, happy baby will moments later turn into a crying mess.

Anna started eating table foods independently this weekend, which is a quite a fun and interesting experience. Only half of the goods make it into her mouth. The other half end up in her high chair, on the floor or on her, whether it be in her hair, on her face or in between her toes. Yes, I said it, in between her toes. Don't ask me how she does it. She's just talented.

With her newfound food freedom, Anna Faith gets three quick baths a day simply because it is much easier than wiping her down with a half pack of moist wipes as she is squirming in forty different directions.

Yesterday, immediately following a spaghetti lunch, I thought it would be much easier to drop her in the sink for a quick rinse instead of tracking her and all of her noodle remnants through the house to the bathroom.

Great in theory.

Although she had fun in the miniature tub for a while, Anna suddenly slid and slammed her face into its cast iron side.

My poor baby cried and cried. Then I, big, mean Momma, had to put her back into danger zone to wash the layers of soap off accumulated during her play.

She had a shiner for the remainder of the night. I felt for sure she would look like a bruised beast this morning, but there is almost no sign of the catastrophic fall.

Despite the drama, I did get a cute picture out of it.

Andre

2008-08-07T08:51:00.002-05:00

When I was pregnant, I jokingly told the OB nurse we were going to name the baby Andre because she would most likely be a giant. Her legs went all the way to my lungs and her head felt like it was falling out. The nurse reassured me she just felt big because my torso was so small.

Several months later....

I took Anna for her 9 month checkup yesterday. I told the Pedi nurse, with a sense of humor, that I didn't need her to chart Anna's weight and length because I already knew she was big for her age. She then proceeded to place the dots along the curve and abruptly stated, "You're right, Momma. She is a giant."

Confirmed. Finally. The doctor's office even admits it.

Anna looks like she is a year old already. She is 29 inches long--almost 2.5 feet--and in the 95 percentile for her height! By the time she's 2, I'll have to look up to her. She is 20 lbs, 12 oz which is in the 75 percentile.

Dr. Galeano asked me if my husband was tall. I laughed and said, "No, and he doesn't have blue eyes either."

But she does have his always-up-to-something personality.

Cruel Intentions

2008-08-06T07:22:00.003-05:00

I have come to the conclusion that God has a mischievous sense of humor. When creating developmental milestones for babies, for some cruel reason, He decided crawling and the pincher grasp should be conquered at the same time.

Which unfortunately means that not only is Anna enjoying her incredibly mastered tool of mobility, she is also grasping and eating everything in sight.

My child has the unique ability to find things in the floor that no normal person can even see, let alone grasp.

The other day I watched her as she crawled to the area rug in the living room where she meticulously picked at the rug until she pulled out a maroon fiber strand, which she, of course, then placed in her mouth.

We watch her like a hawk, but she has still managed to remove the rubber off of a doorstop, which she tried to eat before I caught her. She has also munched on leaves carried in from the dogs, magazine pages, not to mention day old cheerios Momma has missed in the cleaning process.

My house is spotless these days with the fear my child will choke on some mysterious object found within her crawl space. Problem is -- she's smarter, faster and more inventive than I could ever be when processing what might taste good.

Hopefully, this will pass soon. :)

2008-08-05T08:27:00.001-05:00

Will write later. I know I've been gone for a few days, but I've been off work and busy busy. Hope all is going well with all of you.

Clever

2008-07-30T16:40:00.007-05:00

Great inventions are simple ideas turned into duh moments for the rest of us. Let me introduce you to The Beer Belly.

This product, as found on coolerfun.com, is truly ingenious.

As the website promotion states, "Getting tired of paying $8.00+ dollars for a beverage at your favorite event? Why not bring 80 oz of your favorite sipper in with you as a spare tire?"

The same company also makes The Wine Rack, which allows women to store an entire bottle of wine in a sports bra while increasing the bust by up to two cup sizes.

And I thought we were sophisticated back in the day sneaking candy bars and canned sodas into a movie theater in an oversized purse.

My logical question:

What about those who already have fat guts and enlarged tops?

Distraction

2008-07-30T10:21:00.003-05:00

Life has been crazy the past few days, but in the midst of everything, Anna has started a new trick. And it's really cute.

When I put her in her high chair, she automatically cries until she gets the first Cheerio in her mouth. She then ducks her head under the food tray to play Peek-A-Boo. Over and over again.

I don't know if she started this to trick me into not feeding her another green vegetable, or if she started this to get a closer look at Junior as she is feeding him. Nonetheless, it's cute.

She hides her head away, waits for me to look under the table and chuckles when she sees my face.

This is what the good moments are made of.

We do take timeouts in the middle of our playtime to eat.

I can't believe she's already smart enough to trick me into distraction and I'm dumb enough to fall for it.

Merry Christmas!

2008-07-28T10:31:00.008-05:00

Friday night, Anna spent most of the night wailing tunes of distress. The wondrous cacophony of baby cries had me racing for a cure.

Dirty diaper? No.
Hungry? No.
Fever? No.

Our final attempt at relief was the miracle drug Milicon. It didn't seem to work.

About 11:30 p.m., Anna finally drifted to sleep and slept all night.

Fast forward to Saturday.

We decided to drive to Killeen to a Yamaha dealership in search for Chris's birthday gift.

The drive was nice.

We arrived at about 12:30 p.m. to an unexpected gift.

The gift of overflowing poo.

It was now evident that Anna's belly was in much pain the night before.

Anna dropped a devastating Hiroshima-of-a-bomb on the way to our destination. The destruction could be seen and smelled from quite a distance.

I, not yet knowing of the assault, went to unlatch her car seat. Lo and behold, I came out with messy fingers. Very messy. Disgusting, in fact.

I immediately thought: Okay, this can't be too bad. We'll just clean her up, and go into the store.

WRONG.

I unbuckled the seat and removed the perpetrator--only to find a trail of debris.

The entire seat was covered. When I say entire seat, let me be a little more specific.

The buckle itself has more tiny little crevices than you could ever imagine. The belt that holds the buckle has more groves than you could ever imagine. And finally, the little slot in the cloth cover where the belt slips through can hold more leaky goo than you could ever imagine.

That is just the seat.

While holding Anna, it became obvious very quickly that this pond had tributaries. Not only was the mush around her tush, but it also flowed freely down her leg and all the way to her toes--the furthest extremity from the origination point.

At this point, I was laughing because, after all, what else can you do? Humor is the spice of life.

I cleaned up the messy child and seat with the complete contents of a brand new box of wipeys, while Chris went inside to ask for a bag for the hazmat materials.

After having to explain why he needed it, he came out, looking extremely humiliated, to hold a refreshingly clean Anna while I packed the destroyed clothes, diapers and half a pound of wipeys into the trash bag.

We then proceeded into the store like nothing happened--despite the fact that everyone knew what was going on because we were parked right at the front door during this whole fiasco. Not only did they watch the rat race, but they also saw us reluctantly bring the trash bag inside to throw it away because there were no depositories outside.

Whoever said women lose all humility in pregnancy is wrong.

You lose all dignity when your child shits so ferociously that her diaper refuses to levee the flood in a parking lot at a motorcycle shop at an annual Christmas in July sale.

2008-07-28T08:12:00.002-05:00

Chris's birthday was yesterday, so I haven't had time to write a blog for today. I have a great one, but give me until later this afternoon. I need that much time to give this story justice.

Oh, Ye of Little Faith

2008-07-24T09:09:00.008-05:00

My Scorpio is an absolute ham.

I was so concerned about bringing Anna to work with me on Tuesday. I had no idea how I would juggle her and everything else.

She proved my concerns were futile.

We arrived at work with a caravan of baby products--her walker, a blanket for the floor, toys, snacks, books, bottles, etc.

Contrary to my preparations, all Anna needed was the walker, food and tons of doting attention from 40 or so admiring Realtors.

She ate it up. She laughed, smiled and other than a couple of random ventures, was a perfect angel. Everyone commented on how good she was. I was so proud.

Like Mother, Like Daughter.

If only they could see the horns that sprout from time to time.

An adorable little girl in public. A terror at home.

Breakfast of Champions

2008-07-23T09:19:00.005-05:00

My daughter is genious. Pure genious.

At the ripe old age of 8 1/2 months, she has discovered a new delicacy.

Unlike every other breakfast flake, this treat is served with a side of water instead of milk. Even more out of the ordinary--it is served at ground level instead of the normal table top.

Imagine the absolute delight in Anna's eyes when she saw a sea of finger foods screaming Come And Get Me.

With one problem. It wasn't cereal. That's right. You guessed it.

Anna has officially eaten dog food--Pedigree Indoor Complete to be exact. Located in an irrestistibily brightly colored dog bowl rests breakfast, lunch and dinner for Junior and Dexter. And apparently Anna.

After prying the kibbles from her hands and mouth, my daughter was not a happy camper. However, like every other child, she was easily distracted.

By none other than---real Cheerios.

I guess I won't be setting her on the floor while I take a quit potty break in the future.

Geez.

Absence

2008-07-21T18:47:00.002-05:00

Let me quickly explain why I may not have a blog for tomorrow.

Joyce, the other lady in the office, is on vacation this week, which normally is no big deal. EXCEPT, we have a luncheon tomorrow, which normally is no big deal. EXCEPT, my baby sitter had to go out of town last minute for a very good reason, which normally is no big deal. EXCEPT I will have to bring Anna to work tomorrow where I will have to chase her and the demands of various Realtors.

As if that isn't enough...

Chris started painting the house this past weekend with plans to finish next weekend, but because Hurricane Mischeif is on its way to the Texas Coast, he is outside painting tonight instead. So I am inside watching Anna Faith because it is way too hot to leave her outside sweating profusely while I help. The much needed rain this storm might bring normally would be a good thing...

...EXCEPT...

Well, you get the point.

Baby Magnet

2008-07-18T09:07:00.004-05:00

When I gave birth, I thought I would lose the extra weight. I did lose some. However, separation anxiety has donated a permanent hip attachment. My cushy comfy waist line is the only seat worthy of Anna. (Insert eye roll here.)

Play pen, no. Baby Einstein bouncy seat, no. Elmo walker, no.

Momma's multi-tasking body, yes.

She plays independently very well when wide awake. However, when tired, she is stuck to me like glue---very, very strong glue.

I guess there is good behind all of this.

I'm getting much needed muscle tone by lugging my weighted accessory. Not to mention the cardio from chasing the crawling cruiser.

Confession

2008-07-16T12:04:00.004-05:00

I confess.

I have walked into the bathroom--first stall--on multiple occasions. On each trip, right before I assume stance, I realize there is no toilet paper. At which point, I do what most women have done in this same situation.

I slyly glance toward the door to detect any movement.

None.

I listen.

No intruders near.

When I feel it's safe, I then quickly shuffle to the nearest porcelain throne.

I'm home free. This time at least.

Do I learn from my mistake? No. In fact, I have done this at least five times.

The only thing reason I haven't reloaded the dispenser: Knowing the other two in the office are probably frustratingly repeating the same scenario.

Everyone needs a sense of humor. I just employ mine at work.

Intermittent Heartbreak

2008-07-16T08:30:00.003-05:00

It's official.

I broke Anna's heart into a million tiny little pieces this morning.

For the first time ever, Anna started the waterworks when I left for work. I knew this day would come, but nothing could prepare me.

I know Grandma Estella can handle her just fine, but who wants to leave their crying, pathetically sad child?

I told her goodbye with a hug and a kiss and another hug, then snuck out the door squelching the overwhelming urge to stay.

I called Chris a few minutes later to make sure my distraught daughter was okay.

He reassured me, "Ya, she's fine. She only cried for about 5 seconds."

Then my heartbreak began.

Really? I'm only worth 5 seconds?

DeLeon Family Zoo

2008-07-15T12:34:00.012-05:00

Anna is growing and changing so quickly.

She's feisty, energetic and giving the dogs a run for their money. Junior is looking to escape our house like it's Alcatraz, and Dexter has surrendered to his fate and avoids Anna like the Plague.

She crawls all over the house with lightning speed. She loves cables, cords and anything electronic. She continuously unplugs Chris's printer cable because she likes the sound the computer makes when it's removed.

I can't keep her out of the cabinets, drawers, etc. and she's not even walking. Scary. Very scary.

She's pulling up on everything including Junior who she tries to ride like a horse. Poor dog.

Who needs another sweltering trip to the zoo like last Saturday?

I'll just watch my monkey Anna Faith climb all over our pet giraffe Junior while our muskrat Dexter plots his next conniving trick in revenge for letting her take over his house.

Welcomed Arrival

2008-07-15T12:11:00.003-05:00

The invaders have landed. Two of them. Nestled in the banks of Anna Faith's gum line. Their trip was long and arduous, but the treasured cave of baby spit and formula welcomed them with anticipation.

So long teething tablets, baby Tylenol and teething rings. Hello sanity. Well, at least for today, right?

Thank God.

Two teeth down. A mouthful to go.

Catharsis

2008-07-14T08:08:00.006-05:00

Dear Mr. Happy,

I am so sorry I got in the way of your Friday afternoon commute. I understand your frustration of having to wait another 2.3 seconds while I was stopped on red, blocking your right turn. Your maturity radiated as you blurred by me in a fit of rage. You should keep your Jeep Grand Cherokee; its window framed your two flying birds perfectly. You probably had a bad day. I hope your little episode provided you with a bit of stress relief. It gave me a chuckle.

Sincerely,

Your Fellow Lorena Citizen

Not Now, Definitely Later

2008-07-10T09:00:00.012-05:00

Anna turned 8 months on the 2nd, and for some reason, everyone keeps asking when we are going to give her a little brother or a sister.

And to them I say, "as soon as the following occur":

1) Mr. Clean produces a Magic Eraser for stretch marks.

2) C-section scars become a mark of beauty.

3) Nevermind #2, who even wants the see the belly after #1.

4) Doctors decide pregnant women can eat hotdogs, deli meat, take advil, get pedicures and drink caffeine---tons of caffeine.

5) God decides to make bellies flat and legs tan immediately after child birth.

6) Every Average Joe who knows everything about pregnancy, child birth and raising a child suddenly forgets his or her own name and worldly expertise.

7) All books, news articles and magazines containing all possible complications and don'ts of pregnancy spontaneously combust.

8) They make those urine sample cups bigger. With the belly the size of a car, it's not easy to hit a target the size of a piece of gravel.

9) It is written into law that pregnant women have permission to hit, kick or seriously inflict pain on anyone who uses words such as mammoth, huge or colossal to describe the size of the ever growing belly.

10) Men could feel a fraction of what pregnant women feel when creating life.

So to all of you who keep asking, please reference Numbers 1-10.

We plan to enjoy Miss Anna for a little while before adding to the crew.

Southern Genius

2008-07-08T10:56:00.021-05:00

Southerners don't come across as the most intelligent breed. Some argue it's pure stereotype. I have proof it may not be.

The following article was published by the Associated Press--probably because of the news worthy topic and excellent writing. It needs no commentary.

Mercedes-climbing goat, dog picked up by cops
Police arrest goat; dog wanted to go along for the ride
AP- updated 6:55 p.m. CT, Mon., July. 7, 2008

CAPSHAW, Ala. - The goat was arrested, the Mercedes-Benz was assaulted and the dog came along for the ride.

It happened Sunday when a woman driving the Mercedes saw a goat and dog playing on U.S. 72 in northern Alabama, Sheriff Mike Blakely said.

She stopped, afraid they would get hit, Blakely said. But the goat jumped on the car and wouldn't come down. Fearing scratches and dents in her import's paint job, she called the Limestone County Sheriff's Department. A deputy got the goat down and put it in his patrol car, but then the dog jumped into his back seat too.

The deputy took the dog to a veterinarian and the goat to the home of another deputy.

"If anybody is missing a goat and dog, they need to let us know," Blakely said.

Their mothers must be so proud.

Mother of the Year

2008-07-07T12:07:00.012-05:00

I have chameleoned my daughter orange.

I was warned but didn't listen.

For those of you who don't know, most baby foods with a meat/veggie combination are tinted orange or yellow. If a baby gets too much of this color spectrum, his or her skin tone will take on the same shade.

I didn't think anything about my potential error since I was mainly focused on the general nutritional intake of her daily meals.

And then...while Uncle Troy-Troy was pointing out how my legs are so white I look transparent, he proclaimed another truth: Anna looked a little orange.

Then it hit me. Like a ton of bricks.

Oh, my gosh. I'm turning her colors!!!

Don't get me wrong. She won't pass for a piece of fruit, a construction cone or a caution sign, but her new hue is somewhat noticeable if pointed out.

So last night, I loaded her up, took her to Brookshire's, and bought green. Tons of green. Broccoli, peas, green beans, garden vegetables. Anything but orange.

Bless her heart. She'll go back to normal in a few days.

I wonder when they are giving out the Mother of the Year Award. This should definitely make me a candidate.

Independence Day Adventures

2008-07-04T18:31:00.006-05:00

Anna Faith had a very busy 4th.

First thing in the morning, we visited my grandparents, where she Hoovered any and every microscopic tidbit she could grasp. It's funny how a child so young can detect particles so small.

Then on the way to MeMe and Papa's house, we stopped by Toys R Us to pick up an umbrella stroller. I sat Anna down in the bubble gum pink transporter and pushed her to the checkout at front of the store, where we waited on a receiptless customer arguing over a return. By the time we paid and left, Anna was very comfortable. She loved the stroller--so much that she threw a huge fit in the parking lot because she didn't want to get out.

After repairing her little broken heart, we headed to Lorena, where she swam all afternoon. She splashed herself, dipped her face in the pool and floated in her blow-up jet ski.

We headed home with a tuckered Anna Faith late in the afternoon.

Soon after, Anna passed out watching, of course, motorcycle races with Daddy. Angels are cutest when they sleep. She was so peaceful, and in true DeLeon fashion, quite adorable (like her Momma).

No fireworks this 4th of July. She didn't even make it until sunset. Maybe next year.

Anna's 1st 4th

2008-07-04T17:57:00.008-05:00

This blog is short, sweet and to the point because I am doing what everyone should be doing on the 4th. Relaxing with the family. Be safe, take care and don't try to light that last firework whose fuse is too short to be visible. It's okay to save your fingers to go with one less piece of visual amusement. Enjoy your weekend!

Sleep is Overrated

2008-07-02T08:41:00.021-05:00

What was I doing at 2:00 this morning? I'm so glad you asked.

While most of you were probably fast asleep lost in dreamland, I was trying to quiet a screaming child who is still cutting her first tooth. Chris was fast asleep, snoring, in fact. The dogs were rustling around wanting to go outside.

Why not, right? I'm not busy enough.

Let's see if I can hold onto a wailing child, a bottle and my sanity all while turning the back doorknob to let the four legged creatures outside just so they can obnoxiously bark to wake the entire neighborhood.

I finally got the dogs settled, the child asleep and me back in bed...at 3:30 a.m.!

Oh, the joys of motherhood!

Laughter--The Best Medicine

2008-07-01T15:25:00.023-05:00

We have resorted to humor. Pure laughter to get us through. With stress levels hovering above normal, just one break in the administrative mess sent us overboard.

In walks Mr. E-PRM. He enters into the office, sits down in front of my desk and immediately proceeds to tell me about the mole he just had burned off his ear and much more. His full disclosure was icing on an already crumbling cake.

I try to be professional. Sometimes it doesn't work.

I understand this is not funny to most, but he, once again, played into the predictability he constantly carries with him. I could barely hold back the flood of brewing humor in my gut.

And then...

A diversion from previous conversation.

In his youth, Mr. E-PRM did a very good impression of an actor from the first motion picture with sound. The details continued as if I had ample time to listen in awe. I was trying with all of my might not to burst into a fit of confused why-are-you-telling-me-this laughter when he broke into his impression. A song.

He was born in the twenties, and he was performing his Jay Leno, George W. Bush, Rosanne Barr impression of his era. I guess he thought this portrait of his personal history would interest me. What was most difficult for me when trying not to laugh was his straight faced sincerity. He was pouring his heart out.

I laughed--out of shock...mole talk, now this? What else could come out of this man's well-intentioned mouth?

Today, July 1st, 2008, I learned the value of We laughed until we cried.

Of course, we waited for him to leave.

Barely.

Anna Faith, Olympic Contender

2008-06-30T08:16:00.017-05:00

The U.S. Olympic Trials for Gymnastics were a couple of weekends ago. The gymnasts were absolutely amazing. They incredibly master many different tasks to dominate their sport. After thinking about the complexity of their job, I thought about the mental and physical strength one must have to maintain such a high level of concentration and dedication day in and day out.

And then, it came to me. I have the perfect athlete in mind. She's about 2.5 feet tall, super strong and has the cuteness to knock the socks off the judges.

And she has the talent to boot.

The Vault -In this event, the gymnast sprints to the end of a 25 foot runway to ultimately catapult herself off a springboard while she does twists and turns in the air only to make a perfect landing. While my candidate doesn't exactly sprint, she does crawl very quickly, often times to a barricade meant to prevent a catastrophic fall to the ground. Not realizing the purpose of the levee in her way, she then thrusts with all her might, only to somersault over the barrier, through the air and onto the ground. Her landings aren't perfect but consistent nevertheless.

The Uneven Bars - In this event, the gymnast navigates through two horizontal bars by swinging, flipping and masterminding through the obstacles the bars present. My candidate is very much a professional in this arena. She grasps the coffee table and glides to the much lower and much more unsteady recliner. She flips and swings directly onto the hard floor below. Once again, her dismounts must be perfected.

The Beam - Contestants are expected to balance on a narrow platform while flipping, twisting and turning, all with the gracefulness of a swan. My contender often balances on her tiny toes narrowly reaching with ease to grasp something not meant for her little hands. She scoots and manuvers in the most limber of ways until...you guessed it...she comes crashing to the ground. Landings are tough.

The Floor - This routine involves a gymnast tumbling, jumping and doing various acrobatic moves. All of which have been previously discussed. However, given an open floor and limited adult supervision, my daughter would put any gymnast to shame in this element of the sport. Okay, maybe not.

We have some minor issues to work out but...

8.8.08 Here we come!

Quality Time

2008-06-29T18:13:00.031-05:00

She's her father's daughter. Our princess loves to watch motorcycle races with her Daddy. Yes, motorcycle races. She doesn't prefer playing with dolls, stuffed animals or anything of the sort. I would love to think she watches because of the exciting competiton of the stampeding two wheelers. However, reality says the constant white noise is what really draws her to the projection. So, here I sit watching the redundant laps of amusement with Chris and Anna. It warms my heart to see them spend quality time together. Hopefully, she will out grow her motorcycle fascination soon. I would hate to be the one to break her heart when I won't let her have one of her own.

Teenage Rebellion

2008-06-27T06:00:00.017-05:00

My daughter has a serious case of teenage rebellion. She is drawn to the forbidden, the off-limits, the enticing world of put-it-down-don't-do-that-get-that-out-of-your-mouth. (It's a real place, in case you didn't know). What interests her most? How about the one and only toy in the house that isn't hers: Dexter's beloved Beaney Baby carcass. Gross and disgusting, this cat has seen better days. Its bean bag guts no longer exist, and its cataract eyes are scratched beyond belief. This is Dexter's one true love. And that apparently makes Anna want it that much more. She's taken over his house, his parents and now...Victim #2: Junior. Yes, poor Junior. She loves him. Well, mostly his tail, his hair and his legs--all of which must taste like gum drops. Kryptonite is no match for Anna Faith. Victim #3: The living room fireplace. Inanimate? Yes, but a victim nonetheless. Her eye is always on the prize of the Stone Fortress and its corner brick. A teething ring is no match for my baby girl. Hopefully, the brick and mortar won't fight back anytime soon. She's as fast as lightning and very persistent...She's determined. Cute. Lovable. And did I say determined?

Meet The Renters

2008-06-27T05:00:00.016-05:00

We live in a green community. Not only do we offer our garbage up to the environmental gods, but we also embrace recycled unwanteds. Meet The Renters. We will call them that to protect their identities. Please don't misunderstand. There is absolutely nothing wrong with home rental. However, I firmly believe in "When in Rome, Do as The Romans." These Romans don't do the following.

Let's begin...

Parking in front of my house is not a problem. Go ahead. Do it. It's fine. I don't need to get to my mailbox anyway. Pay my bills while you are at it. Nevermind, don't. I value my credit. Oh, and as always, feel free to let your child ride his bike through our yard. Grass is overrated. Thank you, once again, for the much needed assistance in the fertilization of my lawn. Please continue to urinate on my blades of freshness while I have company in my driveway to bear witness to your peep show.

You are welcome in my neighborhood. But remember how the saying doesn't go, "When among the civilized, disregard their space, visual interest and sanity."

Health

2008-06-26T08:00:00.000-05:00

Health. Value it. It comes. It goes. Let me introduce you to my inspiration for this blog: Mr. Ever-Present REALTOR Man. On what seems like a daily basis, Mr. E-PRM graces me with his presence. Don't get me wrong. The man is a genuinely nice man. Nice enough to keep me, the innocent bystander, completely in the know about his health-scapades. While I care about the general well being of most people (him included), I don't want to know the full potential, or lack there of, of his body parts or anyone else's for that matter. Case in point: the plaque buildup in his prostrate, while important to him, may not be something of which I need the complete and unrelenting details. And it is quite unfortunate he is having to trek back to the doctor's office to get places burned off his body because they came back after the first charring. If that isn't enough information to warrant nausea, today during his visit, while gagging up a lung, he proclaimed that his hacking cough is just a sign of old age. While it may be, once again, I don't need to know that his dentist visit took a little longer the other day because the dental hygienist had to stop periodically, so he could hauck. Really? Seriously? He needed to tell me that before his day could continue? Well, I guess I can contribute that to my wonderful, caring personality. Bless his heart. I care. Really. Just not that much.

Dear Superman aka Annoying Neighborhood Kid

2008-06-25T17:58:00.001-05:00

I will speak slowly, so you will understand. My dog is huge. About the size of a very large Tyrannosaurus Rex, in fact. He will eat you. Taking all of this information into consideration, please, for your safety, quit peeping through our privacy fence to taunt your nemesis--Junior. I've asked you nicely, very nicely to ignore your curiosities. The frail barrier of a deteriorating fence between you and my otherwise angel of a dog might not be the protecting force you believe it is. I will gladly throw your ball back over the fence if it lands in my yard, but I once again, I respectly insist that you leave Kryptonite, I mean, Junior alone to enjoy the peacefulness of the outdoors without the racket of you banging on my fence.

Sincerely,

Your Loving Neighbor

The Monster Awakens

2008-06-25T15:42:00.000-05:00

The beautfiul angel that she is--my little Anna Faith woke up yesterday declaring her one true love at the top of her little lungs in the most shrill and ear piercing voice imaginable. The one word I couldn't wait for her to say, she was screaming over and over again. "Momma. Momma! MOMMA!" For some reason, her Daddy couldn't calm her exasperated cries of despair, (which makes no sense since he is her actual true love and knight in shining armour). She wanted her Momma--the sucker. What was wrong, you might ask. And to that I reply, "most likely nothing." I fed her, changed her and did the morning rubbing-of-the-belly-while-patting-the-head-crazy-circus routine to get us ready for the day. A day which includes me going to work and Anna staying at home with Grandma Estella. My little angel was in a decent mood when I left...Then I returned... Hours later. I opened the door to find Grandma looking at her very patient wit's end while Anna Faith was smiling victoriously as if she had won a gold medal in the First Annual Baby Crawling Competition. I knew instantly that my little monster had shown her Grandma her little horns that afternoon. After talking to Estella, we concluded that her problem was probably the invading teeth that are approaching visibility....I gave her tylenol and teething tablets, and my little monster became a little more angelic as the night progressed, though not quite heavenly. And to those teeth I say--GET HERE ALREADY!