We're Still Here!

The picture above is from my sister's wedding. What a rambunctious little flower girl!

Just wanted to drop in and say "Hey!" No excuses--I have not made the time to blog. I assure you all is well in our world--busy with work, gigs, the house, and most importantly, with Sofia. What a fun age! We can't get enough of her and we squeeze every possible moment out of the day with her. She's quite the jibber-jabberer (no shocker, considering I'm her mother) and love, love, LOVES to dance non-stop.

Gotta run--it's a long weekend and there's a beautiful two year old with a dollhouse calling my name!

Parents of the Year? Probably Not.

Thursday, June 16: Sister's Wedding Rehearsal and Rehearsal Dinner

Friday, June 17: Sister's Wedding (We were Matron of Honor, Flower Girl, and Usher/Dance Entertainment. More stories/photos later.)

Saturday, June 18: Sister's Wedding Breakfast and Time with Relatives

Sunday, June 19: Father's Day. Day split between both of our parents' homes.

Monday, June 20, 10:32am: David says, "Did we forget something this morning?" Me: "Sofia's doctor's appointment!". Yup, we forgot to take our daughter to her 2-year check-up. I called the clinic immediately and apologized profusely. We were able to reschedule for Wednesday morning (which is her actual birthday). I have no excuse: it's summer, so I'm not working, and I only have one child to keep track of. I hope this is not an indication of how the rest of the week is going to go...ha!

Flood

That top photo? That was the restaurant where David and I had our wedding reception. In fact, many of our wedding photos were taken where you now currently see all the water. The photo below it? Many other of our wedding photos were taken in the park that used to be in the lower section of that photo, again, covered now in water. David proposed just to the south and slightly west of where that photo was taken. (These photos were taken in an aerial fly-over, facing east.) If you have our Christmas card picture from last year, save it--all of that area where we had our family portraits taken is now submerged as well.

My city--our city--is drowning. There are numerous--most of them unforseen--reasons why this is all happening, but suffice it to say, it can only be described as sad. Our home is safe, my in-law's home is safe, and if the levees hold, my parent's should be safe as well. But many are not. People are losing their homes, their businesses, everything. Some of our schools are even in jeopardy. The community has pulled together (I should clarify: The community has pulled together for the most part. I love this place--it's my home-- but sometimes the mindset of people here frustrates me--but that's a topic for another day) to do it's part, and we've had the help of the National Guard, and government officials, but so many things are still unknown. This is only the beginning--the Corps of Engineers hasn't even reached it's maximum release from the Dam yet. It's like anticipating a death--it's been slow, agonizing, and you don't really know how bad it's all going to be when it's over. We've been told the water could stay well above the flood stage at least until August.

And it's not just our city that's going to feel the effects of this--everyone south of us is going to be experiencing this as well, to a degree. In a way, portions of our community have sacrificed themselves for the sake of the larger, more metropolitan areas south of here. If our flooding wasn't controlled, the entire southern half of our city would have been wiped out and there would have been an even bigger disaster for those larger cities along the river to where it meets the Mississippi. I understand it from a logical standpoint, but my heart hurts nonetheless.

The river has always held a special meaning to David and to me. Our first date was along the walking path that ran alongside the river. David proposed to me on the banks of the river. We were married on the river aboard the beautiful Riverboat, which now sits docked in a safer place, awaiting when it will again sail. Our reception was at the restaurant that used to be river-side. We brought Sofia to the same walking trails for stroller rides. We showed her where Mama and Daddy had so many milestones in their relationship. We had her 1-year portraits and family pictures taken down there in tribute to the river's special meaning to us. I know the water will recede, but I also know that things will never look the same.

I mourn what used to be, but also know that for as much as I love this river, I must also remember it is not our river. It does not belong to us, but rather, we belong to it. It is a powerful part of Mother Nature and we must learn to respect its force. Afterall, we of this city have chosen to live, work, and build our lives alongside it. It will go where it wants to go and do what it wants to do. Water cannot be clenched in the fist of your hand.

She is the Gas

That's not a typo. My daughter is a gas, that's for sure, but in this instance, I mean the gas.

The other day David and I saw a TV commercial--I can't even remember what it was for--but the premise was that in life, some people are the brakes and some are the gas. After seeing it for the first time, David turned to me and said, "Our daughter is the gas, isn't she?" She makes us laugh and shake our heads in amazement every single day. Just since Sunday she:

*Fell through a window well cover in the backyard because she was jumping on it. Her daddy told her repeatedly not to be in the flower beds, but apparently the temptation was just too great. Just as he was walking over to pick her up, she went for one more big bounce, and the cover gave way. As he pulled her out from the window well she cried for (in this order): "My mama! My nuk! Be Cholly!" 'Be Cholly' is Baby Charlie from the TV show "Good Luck, Charlie".

*Following her bath the other night, she takes off running stark naked down the hallway. I didn't even have the words "Walk!" out of my mouth (can you tell I'm a teacher?!) when she slipped and fell and belly-slid across the living room all naked, wet, and slippery. Her quote? "Woah. I OK."

*Interrogated my in-laws' dog about Daddy's missing keys. ("Dog! Dada's keys go?" repeatedly. She was also crouching down and in the dog's face, mind you.) Poor dog finally had had enough and just walked away with a disgusted look on her face. In reality, Sofia had swiped Daddy's keys off the table, stuffed them into the front of her shoe, and hidden the shoe in her diaper bag. Sofia and the dog kissed (literally) and made up a few days later.

*Put on her own little dance recital in the middle of a sandwich shop on Monday evening. We were paying for our food and she was standing right next to us. The next thing we know, we looked over and saw her groovin' (and I mean groovin') to the music right smack in the middle of where the other customers were dining.

*Ate herself sick on strawberries and watermelon at Grandpa and Grandma's house and later threw up all over herself and her Mama. She just looks up at me and says, "I OK. Bath." and then proceeded to run into the bathroom and strip herself naked.

*Conned her parents into letting her sleep with them last night. Her allergies have been so bad that she's been really congested and coughing up a storm. The sympathy ploy must have worked, because last night we snuggled her in next to us. This was the conversation that ensued:
Sofia: "Dad OK?"
Daddy: "Yes, Sofia, Daddy's OK."
Sofia: "Mama OK?"
Mama: "Yes, Honey, Mama's OK."
Sofia: "Baby OK?" (Before you get any wild ideas--she refers to herself as Baby. There is NO, I repeat, NO Baby Version 2.0 on the way!)
Sofia: "I OK."
Then, sound asleep.

The hugs, the kisses, the crazy faces, the imprompteau dances, the way she loves to belt out the only two words of "Soul Sister" that she knows ('do' and 'tonight', in case you're wondering)at the top of her lungs.............I could go on and on. She might be the gas that drives the crazy in our lives, but we wouldn't want it any other way.

Feline Fight Club

In the wee hours of this morning, David hears a ruckus going on outside. Not being able to quite figure out what it is, he gets out of bed to discover two fighting cats on our back deck. (Side note: We don't own cats.) They are making the most horrendous noise known to man and they're actually slamming each other into the side of our house. David manages to scare them away, but not until the damn cats have succeeded in riling up the neighbor's dogs. So, by 4am the neighborhood has been treated with the early morning serenade of screaching cats accompanied by two barking retrievers and a shitzu. David quickly scans the deck, terrified that the cats killed something and that it was blood-staining our new deck. Thankfully, the deck was clean and there was no sign in the yard of any injured woodland creatures. (We have numerous bunnies that take up residence in our yard. It's really kind of cute--they each have their own little "apartments". Bunny 1 on the rock pile, Bunny 2 in the lilac hedge, Bunny 3 under the deck.....you get the idea.) David saunters back to bed. I can't believe it, but Sofia and I slept through the whole thing.

Later, while we were pouring our coffee, I mentioned to David that he still looked tired. His one-phrase response before telling the whole story: "Feline Fight Club".

And the Oscar Goes To...

So, the doorbell rings and Sofia walks right in front of the door. I'm in PJ's, hair is in a ponytail, no make-up, and glasses are on, but there's no pretending no one's home. I open the door (holding Sofia), and the gentleman on the porch proceeds to ask me if he can demonstrate a Kirby vaccuum cleaner.

Now, before you get upset and say, "Amber--what's the matter with you?! You're home alone with a baby and you opened the door to a guy claiming he's a vaccuum salesman? How naive are you?! Have you never watched 'Oprah' or 'Dateline'?!" But, this same guy stopped at my parents' home a couple weeks ago and actually demonstrated the Kirby vaccuum. (Sidebar: Why my mom actually sat through the demonstration when she had absolutely no intention of buying the vaccuum, I don't know. Something about him getting $25 from the company just for demo-ing the thing, I think.) But, I digress. So, here's how the conversation proceeds:

Me: Thanks for checking, but we don't have any carpet in our house, and I'm home with a sick baby.

Him: No carpet at all?

Me: Nope, only hardwood and tile.

Him: Well, it also works great on hardwood and tile!

Me: I'm sure it does, but with her being sick, now is not a good time.

Sofia: (in my arms with her face buried in my neck) Begins coughing and sniffing deeply.

Him: Well, if we get back to this neighborhood next week, I can stop back, if that's OK.

Me: OK, thanks!

Sofia: Cough, cough, deep sniff.

Upon closing the door, I cracked up laughing and looked at Sofia, who removed her face from the crook of my neck. She smiled & laughed and I swear I saw those big brown eyes start to sparkle again...

Teething Bites

It's not quite 1:00pm on a Thursday, and I'm blogging from home. Wish it was a vacation day, but my baby girl is home sick. Nothing serious, but it still makes me sad. You can always tell when she isn't feeling well--the ever-present sparkle in her eyes disappears.

She's been trying to cut her incisors for about a month now, and they're finally getting the best of her. Yesterday was a really rough day for her with my parents (she cried and cried and didn't want David to leave her yesterday morning--she NEVER does that), and the night was not much better. She hates teething rings (always has)and the only thing that she really ever wants when she's teething is to bite on her pacifier. No cold washcloths, no Orajel, nothing--she rejects it all. She's a tough cookie, that's for sure. I did give her some Tylenol before bed, but her sleep still wasn't very deep. At about 6am I decided enough was enough--she just needed a day to snuggle up with her mama and feel better. I ran to work and prepared for a sub and then came back home so David could get ready for work. She watched her daily episode of "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" (today we used clues to solve Minnie's mystery, in case you missed it--ha!) and ate some yogurt and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Then we snuggled, colored, played with her favorite flash cards, had some apple juice, and she helped me fold some laundry. She loves laundry. Stay that way, darling daughter--be better than your mother. Ha!

Daddy came home at lunch to check in on his girl, and right after she was done eating, she took my hand and led me into our bedroom. I put her in our bed and the girl was out like a light in no time. Poor little thing--hope she can sleep restfully and feel better.

Here's hoping Little Miss Sparkle Eyes is back tomorrow!

I Think We All Have Cabin Fever...

That, my friends, is my daughter passed out asleep on her sled. What kind of kid falls asleep while sledding? One that is tired of winter, that's what. While hilarious as all get out, I think there's a deeper meaning to my little Sledding Sleeping Beauty-- there's a spreading epidemic of the Winter Blahs.

You see, living where we do, it's common knowledge that we're going to have a good 5 months of winter--at the very least. It's not unusual for the kids up in this neck of the woods to have to go trick-or-treating in their snowpants and boots. It's pretty much standard to own a snow blower. We consider zero degrees Farenheit "not so bad". Don't get me wrong, I love a white Christmas, sledding, and snow angels as much as the next person; but I cannot wait for Spring, and I don't think I'm alone.

The sparkly blanket of white that covers our city is beginning to dull. My baby girl fights putting on the hat and mittens a little bit more each day. If my husband has to shovel us out one more morning before leaving for work, he's going to snap. Our community as a whole seems to have its crabby pants on as of late, and I'm right there with them. Everywhere you turn you see scowling, hear the cursing of the cold and snow, and you could probably even smell the cold if your nostrils weren't frozen together. The kids at school are just owly and cranky because they haven't been able to go outside for recess.

There is a desperate need to throw open the windows and let fresh air wash through our cozy little bungalow. I need to see green lawns and colorful flower beds again. I long for the sound and smell of mowing the lawn. I want to be able to order my warm-weather coffee. (Yes, what I order at the coffee shop changes with the seasons--don't judge me. There just seems something wrong about drinking an iced Americano during a blizzard...are ya with me?)

So, maybe I can will warmer weather our direction... Today I packed away the red and pink-ness that covered our house in Valentine's Day beauty and made way for the St. Patrick's Day clovery goodness. We went shopping yesterday and purchased a few new items for my Spring wardrobe. We've even got Sofia's Easter dress all ready to go. Can Spring (and my iced Americano) be far behind...?

Amber and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad President's Day Weekend

Do you ever feel like you've completely dropped every single ball you're trying to juggle? That's me. In fact, I don't even know why I'm sitting here blogging instead of doing the dozens of things I should be getting done.

I have a class all day tomorrow and Thursday that I need to finish homework for. I have an entire book to read for starters--I've known that I have to read it since about December, but lately the only reading I get done is "I Love Monkey", or "Knuffle Bunny", or the "Pokey Little Puppy"--you get the idea. By the time Sofia goes to bed at night, I'm wiped. And then I muster up the energy it takes to finish the highest priority item that's been placed on the back burner. (Usually means re-running the washing machine because I ran a load a day or two ago, but got distracted and forgot to throw it in the dryer; washing the supper dishes; ironing a pair of pants and shirt for David for work tomorrow; going over lesson plans for work the next day and then falling into bed. Crap! Get up and go throw those towels into the dryer or you'll be washing them again tomorrow!)

My house is always a disaster. Always. Right now you can't see the top of my dining room table, there are dust bunnies in almost every corner of the floor, and the basement is still ripped apart. Because the basement's ripped apart, half of its contents are in my upstairs and the other half are crammed into my storage room downstairs. Everywhere I look, there's sh**. (When will these renovation projects end?!) We had a plumbing disaster on Saturday when I apparently exceeded the limits of the garbage disposal but didn't realize it. Both sides of the basin sink downstairs were full of water and disposaled (is that even a word?!?!) food. Everything was working fine upstairs at the kitchen sink, so the only reason I discovered the problem was because I went to go put a load of laundry into the machine. I ran and got David, because hell if I know how to fix it, and in the process of him fixing it, the trap of the basin sink gave out and we had a nasty mess all over the laundry room/work shop area. I knew it was bad when I heard, "!@#$%^--Call an aunt!". Eight minutes later, my sister was here and David and I were ankle deep in water and what used to be the forgotten leftovers in the refrigerator. Fast forward to Sunday and me trying to clean the rest of the house and wash all the towels, rugs, and rags that were wet and filthy from the mess yesterday. In the process, I mention to my husband that my stress level regarding this house has reached its limit. A discussion ensues, and said discussion turns into an argument. A big one. Probably would have been bigger, but Sofia was up. Steam is still coming out of my ears, by the way. It's now Monday (Happy President's Day, by the way), and after a trip to the dentist this morning (and a return visit scheduled for March because I have a cavity. What the hell? What 29-year old still gets cavities?)I returned home to my husband working on my sister's wedding invitation design and my mom and other sister watching Sofia. As Mom is leaving, she says, "Why don't you send your ironing with me. If I don't do it, it won't get done. I know how things go around here." REALLY?!?! Like I don't feel enough guilt? Because I enjoy feeling like a failure of a homemaker, wife, and mother?!

I work full time and am trying to raise a daughter and keep house with a husband who works over 70 hours a week (I kid you not.) It's not that he doesn't want to be home-- he's just trying to provide for his family as best he can and get these renovations finished. (Although, his renovation addiction is part of the fuel for this fire..............but that's a topic for another day........) It's just so hard to get everything done and meet expectations. Expectations that I mostly have of myself. I am just too Type-A. And probably read too much of "Real Simple" and "Better Homes and Gardens" than is healthy for my self-esteem.

Off I go. I need to get homework done and go scrub the bathroom. And Google "cleaning ladies". I wonder how that would go over...

I've decided...

that I just might be the world's worst blogger. I have such grand visions of keeping this blog up-to-date and full of lovely photos. In reality, I have a lonely, ignored blog. Not that I don't have good intentions--it's just that my laundry, ironing, toothpaste-crusted bathroom sink, and piled-full-of-mail dining room table are usually just as ignored. And let's face it: When push comes to shove, I'm going to take care of those things over my blog, because unexpected guests aren't going to see this internet space from my front door. (You can, however, see straight into the bathroom.)

In the eons since I've been here, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's have come and gone, and along the way many more fond memories have been made in our nutshell. Sofia, being the ripe-old age of 18 months, was much more aware of Christmas this year, and enjoyed not one, not two, but three Christmas celebrations. By Round 3, she really had the opening gifts thing down, and decided it would be best if she opened everyone's presents for them.

In with all the happy, we've also had the sad; as is the way with life. In early December, David's grandmother passed away. She was 94 and suffered from Alzheimer's. While it was a blessing for her to pass and finally be at peace, she is dearly missed by all of us who loved her and her squiggly-line rulers :)

There is much more to say, but not enough time right now to get it all out. Here's a sign-off in hopes that I'm able to return soon!