We spent Thanksgiving in Gilmer, and Claire got to know her newest best friend.
(iPhone pics, sorry.)
12.31.2010
12.11.2010
11.11.2010
11.01.2010
H "owl" oween
10.30.2010
The House that Daddy Built
I'm not going to lie, I like when she plays with blocks. I probably had one of the biggest collections of Legos in Gilmer Texas, thanks Mom and Dad.
I like to build things too! If you are between 3-11, please swing by and I bet my little girl would love to let you play on it too!
*Rubber mulch to be added for safety soon, deliver takes a few weeks.
10.27.2010
Deep in MY heart of Texas
This little guy (above) has been waiting a number of years for these guys (below) to make it to the World Series.
Thank you Texas Rangers for the times I got to spend with my dad listening and watching you play your hearts out.
10.25.2010
I think she wants to be a cowgirl!
She loves all animals so much right now! Every time she sees one she throws her little pointer finger out and tells us what it is or what sound it makes! Next time you see her, ask her to say elephant, it is our favorite!
10.04.2010
Finding my voice.. or something like that.
I wrote this last week and have debated posting it, but I think the point of the whole thing is that I need to stop being afraid of speaking out, so for the ten people who might still read this blog, I will publish it.
I know most of you are probably laughing inside; could a voice as loud as mine really be lost? But I feel it has, over the past couple years dwindled down at least. While it still carries across a room, the things that carry are less interesting and less honest than they used to be. I have felt that unshakable funk, pulling me down into slothfulness and boredom.. Chalk it up to turning 22, but I'm having a sort of mini-life crisis that has lead to to do some serious soul searching. And I've realized that my voice really has more to do with my self-confidence than anything else, and area of my life I have been faltering in ever since I stumbled into this labyrinth called parenthood and even before then. I used to have a lot of trust in myself, perhaps to a fault. But anyone who went to high school with me will attest, I never let any one tell me what to believe or how to act.Though my father instilled a great conservative spirit in me, I think even he was a tad apprehensive when I related my head-to-head arguments with government and history teachers. My naivete shines through now, but I am still proud of that stalwart girl, who knew with certainty that I WAS right.
Perhaps the hardest thing of all is coming to terms with that fact that things aren't always black and white. I was sure at 18, when I got engaged, that everyone who dismissed me as another one of those girls was wrong. I was intelligent and free-thinking and I would prove the stereotype wrong. If you swear you've heard me say, "I'm just a few credits away from graduating," for two years now, its because you have. I morphed into a 19-year old bride/mother stereotype faster than you can repeat the overused Breed-Em-Young University. Here I sit, just shy of my college degree, unable to get myself to commit the time and patience to getting a couple online credits done. Currently, I'm enrolled in a Food Prep in the home class. One of the questions on each assignment is, "Did you sweep the floors and take out the trash?" Another reads, "Did you wash and replace your linens?" Still more, "Did you eat at a set table?" It does stop short of asking whether I went to the powder room to freshen up my bouffant hair before my spouse got home... Needless to say, it hasn't been the most intellectually stimulating, and I have shirked at the menial, and in my humble, not-much-of-a-feminist opinion, demeaning requirements. So instead of completing a quite simple two credit course, I let it and my education, sit and fester.
For the last year or so, I've shrunk down in embarrassment about these things. Perhaps I should have waited longer to have kids. This is absolutely exhausting. Perhaps I should have known myself better before I got married, figured out what I wanted to BE in life and how to get there. So oftentimes I feel like a failure, because I think often in our culture, we start to believe that we should be completely fulfilled in being wives and mothers, but that isn't the case (for me at least.) I married Chris because I loved him, because he loved me (so unconditionally, I might add, that he puts up with the kind of crap over and over) and because I knew he would hard and take care of me and be exactly the kind of husband that most women can only dream of having as a spouse. I had Claire because we wanted to, and I believed it was a righteous desire and thus pursued it. Those were two decisions that completely embodied that spirit I used to have-- this is me, take it or leave it. And while those remain two of the best decisions of my life, I have started to realize that those decisions did have some of the negative consequences of which I had been warned, and I think I've lost my footing a bit. What I'm trying to come to terms with is that I can be both right and wrong about the decisions of my past, and that doesn't mean I have to give up my good judgment to admit it.
Parenting is hard because I have no idea what I am doing. Right now, Claire is up in her crib talking and banging and in general, just giving me an ulcer. I hate these moments. I hate them more than I imagine most people ever hate them. I just want so badly for her to take a nap and leave me alone for a few minutes, but I don't know how to achieve that. She is tired, right? I think she is tired. But then why is she still talking? Is there too much light in her room? Can she hear the clitter clatter of keys as I type? What will happen when Chris gets home soon? I feel like I am constantly stumbling through the dark, grasping at anything, praying for help. I know this is a huge part of having lost my self-assurance. I have no idea what I am doing.
And so I want to share a little experience, if only to further engrave it in my memory, that I had last week. I'd been doing a lot of studying, something I haven't done in so long, I forgot how incredibly enthralling it could be. Perhaps I would have been better off at a university other than BYU, because I think most of the time I found it too intimidating to voice my opinion and thus just existed in quiet mediocrity. Anyway, I had been reading and studying, and I was feeling, if not enlightened, at least challenged. It was a feeling I hadn't had in so long, and it was empowering. I headed to Wal-Mart with Claire in tow. Now I have one rule with Claire at the grocery store. She can sit in the cart, or she can walk alongside me. The only place I don't want her is in my arms while I struggle with a cart. Of course that often doesn't work, and I am left feeling like a walking stereotype, unable to keep a hold on a kid, flustered, buying a schizophrenic mix of fresh vegetables and preservative laden convenience products. We were in the baking aisle when she decided she wanted to eat the bananas that were in the cart (of course, the one thing I can't prematurely open and feed her, because bananas happen to be charged by weight.) This resulted on her standing awkwardly on the cart while I pushed it. (She's still making a fuss upstairs. Should I go get her? Could she be pookie? Or is she just about ready to give up the fight and checking on her will only disturb the process? See- I'm lost.)
Anyway, as I pushed the cart past the chocolate chips and pre-chopped walnuts, an older man watched us knowingly as only a 65 year old man in a red tank top could. He then leaned down real close to Claire and said, "All you're doing there is making yourself red." First off, I'm not even sure what he meant by this, because it contradicts what he said later, but I assume he meant that her fussing and screaming to get to the bananas was counter-productive. I ignored his insight and went on my way.
Come the next aisle, there is creepy man again. At this point I am gratefully relieved because Claire has allowed me to put her in the cart's seat, and we are moving quickly and efficiently. So red-tank top man says, "I see who is in charge there." Now, Taylor V 2.0 would have walked away, ashamed and embarrassed, but I had just started running a beta copy of V 3.0 and I wasn't going to put up with it.
"What do you mean?" I snapped back.
"Well she got her way, didn't she? She's sitting in the cart."
"Not exactly, that cart is where I want her, so she actually got exactly the opposite."
"Oh, well, I, Um..."
And so with one last push out of the aisle I persisted, "Yeah, I'm the one in charge here."
Now, this isn't groundbreaking to most of you, but it was to me. Because I feel like I've spent a lot of time beating myself up for not being in charge of my life, and yet, in that aisle, while accusing me of being taken by a 19 month old, Creepy Old Man tried to let me be taken by him. And he didn't win. I was in charge.
I don't suppose most of this makes much sense, but perhaps you can glean a thing or two from it. I guess what is is important to me is that it is okay to be a bit of a stereotype. I did get married at 19, have a kid at 20, and leave college just a little too early, but that doesn't make my opinion worthless. It doesn't make me less of a person. I have an amazing husband, a pretty remarkable daughter, and I can still be an educated person even if I did rush it a bit. I'd say compared to most, my life isn't too shabby. Most importantly, being a partial stereotype doesn't mean I have to buy into the whole thing. I will finish school, and soon, Dad. And if I choose to keep going, I hope that circumstances will allow. Above all, I don't have to lose my voice just because it may have been wrong a couple times, or just because I'm not quite sure all the time. Things are not black and white, there are many different shades of gray in between, and it is entirely up to me to replace those monochromatic moments with bright and vivid colors.
(Okay she wins, I got her out of the crib. Shoot, forgot to turn the movement monitor off...)
I know most of you are probably laughing inside; could a voice as loud as mine really be lost? But I feel it has, over the past couple years dwindled down at least. While it still carries across a room, the things that carry are less interesting and less honest than they used to be. I have felt that unshakable funk, pulling me down into slothfulness and boredom.. Chalk it up to turning 22, but I'm having a sort of mini-life crisis that has lead to to do some serious soul searching. And I've realized that my voice really has more to do with my self-confidence than anything else, and area of my life I have been faltering in ever since I stumbled into this labyrinth called parenthood and even before then. I used to have a lot of trust in myself, perhaps to a fault. But anyone who went to high school with me will attest, I never let any one tell me what to believe or how to act.Though my father instilled a great conservative spirit in me, I think even he was a tad apprehensive when I related my head-to-head arguments with government and history teachers. My naivete shines through now, but I am still proud of that stalwart girl, who knew with certainty that I WAS right.
Perhaps the hardest thing of all is coming to terms with that fact that things aren't always black and white. I was sure at 18, when I got engaged, that everyone who dismissed me as another one of those girls was wrong. I was intelligent and free-thinking and I would prove the stereotype wrong. If you swear you've heard me say, "I'm just a few credits away from graduating," for two years now, its because you have. I morphed into a 19-year old bride/mother stereotype faster than you can repeat the overused Breed-Em-Young University. Here I sit, just shy of my college degree, unable to get myself to commit the time and patience to getting a couple online credits done. Currently, I'm enrolled in a Food Prep in the home class. One of the questions on each assignment is, "Did you sweep the floors and take out the trash?" Another reads, "Did you wash and replace your linens?" Still more, "Did you eat at a set table?" It does stop short of asking whether I went to the powder room to freshen up my bouffant hair before my spouse got home... Needless to say, it hasn't been the most intellectually stimulating, and I have shirked at the menial, and in my humble, not-much-of-a-feminist opinion, demeaning requirements. So instead of completing a quite simple two credit course, I let it and my education, sit and fester.
For the last year or so, I've shrunk down in embarrassment about these things. Perhaps I should have waited longer to have kids. This is absolutely exhausting. Perhaps I should have known myself better before I got married, figured out what I wanted to BE in life and how to get there. So oftentimes I feel like a failure, because I think often in our culture, we start to believe that we should be completely fulfilled in being wives and mothers, but that isn't the case (for me at least.) I married Chris because I loved him, because he loved me (so unconditionally, I might add, that he puts up with the kind of crap over and over) and because I knew he would hard and take care of me and be exactly the kind of husband that most women can only dream of having as a spouse. I had Claire because we wanted to, and I believed it was a righteous desire and thus pursued it. Those were two decisions that completely embodied that spirit I used to have-- this is me, take it or leave it. And while those remain two of the best decisions of my life, I have started to realize that those decisions did have some of the negative consequences of which I had been warned, and I think I've lost my footing a bit. What I'm trying to come to terms with is that I can be both right and wrong about the decisions of my past, and that doesn't mean I have to give up my good judgment to admit it.
Parenting is hard because I have no idea what I am doing. Right now, Claire is up in her crib talking and banging and in general, just giving me an ulcer. I hate these moments. I hate them more than I imagine most people ever hate them. I just want so badly for her to take a nap and leave me alone for a few minutes, but I don't know how to achieve that. She is tired, right? I think she is tired. But then why is she still talking? Is there too much light in her room? Can she hear the clitter clatter of keys as I type? What will happen when Chris gets home soon? I feel like I am constantly stumbling through the dark, grasping at anything, praying for help. I know this is a huge part of having lost my self-assurance. I have no idea what I am doing.
And so I want to share a little experience, if only to further engrave it in my memory, that I had last week. I'd been doing a lot of studying, something I haven't done in so long, I forgot how incredibly enthralling it could be. Perhaps I would have been better off at a university other than BYU, because I think most of the time I found it too intimidating to voice my opinion and thus just existed in quiet mediocrity. Anyway, I had been reading and studying, and I was feeling, if not enlightened, at least challenged. It was a feeling I hadn't had in so long, and it was empowering. I headed to Wal-Mart with Claire in tow. Now I have one rule with Claire at the grocery store. She can sit in the cart, or she can walk alongside me. The only place I don't want her is in my arms while I struggle with a cart. Of course that often doesn't work, and I am left feeling like a walking stereotype, unable to keep a hold on a kid, flustered, buying a schizophrenic mix of fresh vegetables and preservative laden convenience products. We were in the baking aisle when she decided she wanted to eat the bananas that were in the cart (of course, the one thing I can't prematurely open and feed her, because bananas happen to be charged by weight.) This resulted on her standing awkwardly on the cart while I pushed it. (She's still making a fuss upstairs. Should I go get her? Could she be pookie? Or is she just about ready to give up the fight and checking on her will only disturb the process? See- I'm lost.)
Anyway, as I pushed the cart past the chocolate chips and pre-chopped walnuts, an older man watched us knowingly as only a 65 year old man in a red tank top could. He then leaned down real close to Claire and said, "All you're doing there is making yourself red." First off, I'm not even sure what he meant by this, because it contradicts what he said later, but I assume he meant that her fussing and screaming to get to the bananas was counter-productive. I ignored his insight and went on my way.
Come the next aisle, there is creepy man again. At this point I am gratefully relieved because Claire has allowed me to put her in the cart's seat, and we are moving quickly and efficiently. So red-tank top man says, "I see who is in charge there." Now, Taylor V 2.0 would have walked away, ashamed and embarrassed, but I had just started running a beta copy of V 3.0 and I wasn't going to put up with it.
"What do you mean?" I snapped back.
"Well she got her way, didn't she? She's sitting in the cart."
"Not exactly, that cart is where I want her, so she actually got exactly the opposite."
"Oh, well, I, Um..."
And so with one last push out of the aisle I persisted, "Yeah, I'm the one in charge here."
Now, this isn't groundbreaking to most of you, but it was to me. Because I feel like I've spent a lot of time beating myself up for not being in charge of my life, and yet, in that aisle, while accusing me of being taken by a 19 month old, Creepy Old Man tried to let me be taken by him. And he didn't win. I was in charge.
I don't suppose most of this makes much sense, but perhaps you can glean a thing or two from it. I guess what is is important to me is that it is okay to be a bit of a stereotype. I did get married at 19, have a kid at 20, and leave college just a little too early, but that doesn't make my opinion worthless. It doesn't make me less of a person. I have an amazing husband, a pretty remarkable daughter, and I can still be an educated person even if I did rush it a bit. I'd say compared to most, my life isn't too shabby. Most importantly, being a partial stereotype doesn't mean I have to buy into the whole thing. I will finish school, and soon, Dad. And if I choose to keep going, I hope that circumstances will allow. Above all, I don't have to lose my voice just because it may have been wrong a couple times, or just because I'm not quite sure all the time. Things are not black and white, there are many different shades of gray in between, and it is entirely up to me to replace those monochromatic moments with bright and vivid colors.
(Okay she wins, I got her out of the crib. Shoot, forgot to turn the movement monitor off...)
9.28.2010
So I haven't been the best blogger in a while. Allow me to explain why...
Over this summer my computer suffered a great injury. While innocently residing under the bench seat in my dad's truck, I lowered the seat and subsequently crushed the LCD by throwing a 100 pound box of metal on top of the seat. So Chris bought me an HDMI cord that goes to another cord, that goes to the computer, and thus our television screen has become my computer monitor.
Before that, I was having some issues with my Macbook charger and battery. It would work fine if I was plugged into the wall, but the battery would not charge. I was happy to learn, about three days before the LCD injury, that this was simply my charger, because Krissy's charger worked on my computer. Unfortunately, after the LCD injury, I kept telling myself that since I had to stay plugged into the wall anyway, it didn't make any sense for me to invest another trillion dollars on a charger.
So here I sit, anytime I want to use the computer, paralyzed so I don't unplug either of my lifelines (which incidentally, have to be 'just right' and happen to unplug themselves about every two minutes.) Peep and the Big Wide World plays endlessly in the PIP in the lower left hand corner, and every time Penne or Claire demand any attention (how dare they detract from my internet time :) I lose my connection because one of the two cords is bound to get touched and kill my computer.
And that's why I haven't been the best blogger, and I'm sure that was the most boring post, you know, ever, but I hope you have a great mental visual of me sitting on my IKEA teddy bear chair, that my posterior does not fit on, trying to balance the cords just right, and throwing arms out at anyone who dares to step foot into my little bubble.
Over this summer my computer suffered a great injury. While innocently residing under the bench seat in my dad's truck, I lowered the seat and subsequently crushed the LCD by throwing a 100 pound box of metal on top of the seat. So Chris bought me an HDMI cord that goes to another cord, that goes to the computer, and thus our television screen has become my computer monitor.
Before that, I was having some issues with my Macbook charger and battery. It would work fine if I was plugged into the wall, but the battery would not charge. I was happy to learn, about three days before the LCD injury, that this was simply my charger, because Krissy's charger worked on my computer. Unfortunately, after the LCD injury, I kept telling myself that since I had to stay plugged into the wall anyway, it didn't make any sense for me to invest another trillion dollars on a charger.
So here I sit, anytime I want to use the computer, paralyzed so I don't unplug either of my lifelines (which incidentally, have to be 'just right' and happen to unplug themselves about every two minutes.) Peep and the Big Wide World plays endlessly in the PIP in the lower left hand corner, and every time Penne or Claire demand any attention (how dare they detract from my internet time :) I lose my connection because one of the two cords is bound to get touched and kill my computer.
And that's why I haven't been the best blogger, and I'm sure that was the most boring post, you know, ever, but I hope you have a great mental visual of me sitting on my IKEA teddy bear chair, that my posterior does not fit on, trying to balance the cords just right, and throwing arms out at anyone who dares to step foot into my little bubble.
8.18.2010
8.17.2010
Because I actually love working at the Gap.
Give and Get is Here!: "Enjoy 30% off from August 26-29 at Gap, Banana Republic and Old Navy and we'll donate 5% of what you spend to a non-profit."
Unfortunately, I was not able to choose just any non-profit, because of course my support would go to the Little Heroes Foundation, so I went with WWF. You can always make Little Heroes donations here. :)
Let me know if you want an online code (the above only works instore!)
Unfortunately, I was not able to choose just any non-profit, because of course my support would go to the Little Heroes Foundation, so I went with WWF. You can always make Little Heroes donations here. :)
Let me know if you want an online code (the above only works instore!)
8.06.2010
Our sweet little puppy has invigorated our boring life. The last few nights we have spent in our nice new backyard, watching the stars and planes and satelittles and listening to Pandora on Chris' phone. With the mountain that backs up to our house, we can pretend that we live in the countryside, and not just a tennis balls throw from the neighbors living room. (As evidenced by the five or so tennis balls we have inherited from the dogs next door...)
Claire loves to be out there too, but she doesn't love that the dog tugs on her diaper or the back of her shirt (only three holes today! Yay!) It is the most hilarious thing to watch, this little girl running around screaming because some soft little fluffy dog is chasing her around. So I went to put Claire to bed just a little bit ago, and she sort of smells like the outdoors and her feet are all sticky and her hands are a little sticky too and I though I really should give her a bath (I give her two baths a day... almost always.) But for some reason as I held up her sticky little toes to change her diaper, because it had a hole in it from the dog, I realized that going to bed with her sticky toes was the best thing I could do for her. Because really, how long can you get away with going to bed with grassy, dirty, sweetly sticky feet and have someone think it is the most precious thing ever? What I would give for the innocence of being able to go to sleep with sticky toes.
After much debate, drama, and tears, we have named the dog Penne. Now, nobody go suggesting something else, or allow me to change it! I need to commit, I need it get over it. It's a dog, it's a name, and it is Penne.
Claire loves to be out there too, but she doesn't love that the dog tugs on her diaper or the back of her shirt (only three holes today! Yay!) It is the most hilarious thing to watch, this little girl running around screaming because some soft little fluffy dog is chasing her around. So I went to put Claire to bed just a little bit ago, and she sort of smells like the outdoors and her feet are all sticky and her hands are a little sticky too and I though I really should give her a bath (I give her two baths a day... almost always.) But for some reason as I held up her sticky little toes to change her diaper, because it had a hole in it from the dog, I realized that going to bed with her sticky toes was the best thing I could do for her. Because really, how long can you get away with going to bed with grassy, dirty, sweetly sticky feet and have someone think it is the most precious thing ever? What I would give for the innocence of being able to go to sleep with sticky toes.
After much debate, drama, and tears, we have named the dog Penne. Now, nobody go suggesting something else, or allow me to change it! I need to commit, I need it get over it. It's a dog, it's a name, and it is Penne.
7.11.2010
5.26.2010
Clairey, Clairey, quite contrary...
How does your garden grow?
(Currently: 1 zucchini, about 15 teeny tomatoes, lots of broccoli leaves, a pepper plant that should bloom any day now, and ONE really big carrot.)
(Currently: 1 zucchini, about 15 teeny tomatoes, lots of broccoli leaves, a pepper plant that should bloom any day now, and ONE really big carrot.)
Our yard has slowly been turning into a certain sixteen month old's dream yard. The concrete fairies came and poured her a bike path, a new patio, and new stairs to the front door. The topsoil that has been spread in preparation for sod is just full of things to discover, eat, and bring to mommy because wood chips are SO interesting!
I have this dream envisioned for my backyard, and I truly hope that we can make it happen. I have such fond memories of our backyard growing up. My dad had a huge garden (at least I thought it was huge, but we moved when I was eight), complete with grape vines, a pomegranate tree, apricots, and green apples. And then there were the toys: a swingset, monkey bars, a playhouse, a trampoline, a sandbox, a tether pole, and a swimming pool. I don't think we had any idea how lucky we were! We certainly won't be there any time soon, but for now, all Claire needs is a little dirt to dig in.
Perhaps we will start with the sandbox.
3.28.2010
Yesterday, Claire found her shoes and started trying to put them on, in hopes that Chris would take her outside. (She absolutely loves going in our backyard, especially since Willie is visiting and sometimes he leaves her to go out there...)
I don't know why but for some reason that simple act changed her from a baby to a toddler.
I don't know why but for some reason that simple act changed her from a baby to a toddler.
3.10.2010
3.04.2010
Enjoying a moment while Claire naps.
So I really want to go to Hawaii. However, given our financial situation (which isn't really a situation, just that we are a young married couple with a baby) I don't see it happening in the near future. I still find myself planning full blown vacations-- from the airfare to the condo we will rent to the places we will dine-- and then close my firefox window and go back to real life. Really it is mostly the airfare. How do you find cheap airfare to Hawaii? Maybe we will build a boat and just sail there. Who is in?
Ugh, am I the only one who cringes a little bit when the monitor comes back on? Off to get my snuggle bug.
edit---- I take it all back. She just slept on me, like a little baby, for an hour. Best feeling ever.
Ugh, am I the only one who cringes a little bit when the monitor comes back on? Off to get my snuggle bug.
edit---- I take it all back. She just slept on me, like a little baby, for an hour. Best feeling ever.
3.02.2010
2.23.2010
Today, these pictures arrived in my email from Chris...
I can still feel the butterflies from that day.
2.15.2010
I need to write more.
I hate when people have blogs and never update. So even though I don't have anything to say, I am going to update.
Claire's first birthday was last Friday. She had a farm party on Saturday. Thanks to everyone's help and participation, it went really well!! I will post pics when I get some, but it really ended up looking exactly how I envisioned. She was such a happy girl and seemed to know it was "all about her." Of course, I'm beginning to worry she thinks it is always all about her.
She is walking full-time now, and it may just be the cutest thing you've ever seen. Little waddler.
That's all for now. Boring, I warned you.
Claire's first birthday was last Friday. She had a farm party on Saturday. Thanks to everyone's help and participation, it went really well!! I will post pics when I get some, but it really ended up looking exactly how I envisioned. She was such a happy girl and seemed to know it was "all about her." Of course, I'm beginning to worry she thinks it is always all about her.
She is walking full-time now, and it may just be the cutest thing you've ever seen. Little waddler.
That's all for now. Boring, I warned you.
1.27.2010
I try to steer away from these things...
But truly, tonight was over the top.
In summary: We would love to hear your plan, as long as it is the same as our plan.
In summary: We would love to hear your plan, as long as it is the same as our plan.
1.21.2010
1.11.2010
Regarding my closing thoughts from yesterday, I have been trying to come up with reasons Claire could celebrate Hanukkah so that I can rationalize buying this:
Doesn't the Jew-fro on the little boy in the front just kill you??
Also, I bought this tonight.... in a 2T/3T. It's never too early when you buy the very last one AND it is on sale. I wanted this jacket on Black Friday, when I made my family drive to Salt Lake with me on Thanksgiving evening just so I could be crazy and run through Janie and Jack snatching great deals. Unfortunately, after I had torn apart the sale rounds, I made my way to the new line at the front of the store. And there it was... in the hands of another woman, on its way to the checkout counter: the very last one. It was a sad moment.
My heart skipped a beat when I pulled it off the rack today. So beautiful, and even more appealing with a couple more markdowns!
Yes, I realize some of you are thinking that is the ugliest coat you have ever seen. Just wait till you see it on my baby. It might be a while.
Doesn't the Jew-fro on the little boy in the front just kill you??Also, I bought this tonight.... in a 2T/3T. It's never too early when you buy the very last one AND it is on sale. I wanted this jacket on Black Friday, when I made my family drive to Salt Lake with me on Thanksgiving evening just so I could be crazy and run through Janie and Jack snatching great deals. Unfortunately, after I had torn apart the sale rounds, I made my way to the new line at the front of the store. And there it was... in the hands of another woman, on its way to the checkout counter: the very last one. It was a sad moment.
My heart skipped a beat when I pulled it off the rack today. So beautiful, and even more appealing with a couple more markdowns!
Yes, I realize some of you are thinking that is the ugliest coat you have ever seen. Just wait till you see it on my baby. It might be a while.
1.10.2010
I am feeling generally uninspired lately, except for the sudden urge to do laundry (but never to fold it.)
I have a shopping problem. The bigger problem is that I only shop for Claire. I may be in clothes from high school, but at least my daughter never wears the same thing twice. (Only kidding, sort of.)
I remember when Chris and I really liked Heroes. One night, towards the beginning of my pregnancy, he turned to me and said, "I kind of like the name Claire." (Or maybe it was me, but the point is, we agreed.)
I made lasagna tonight. It was not very good. I am convinced that the marinara sauce I used was watered down. I will avoid saying the brand lest I lose your any respect you might have for me. (Suffice it to say, it never would have flown in the Old World.)
Today I lost the Tiffany charm to my necklace. On a scale of 1-10 this sucks about 100. Chris gave me the charm attached to a bracelet which I have already lost. I was grateful to have not lost the charm. (Moral of the story: do not buy me any nice, sentimental, or otherwise thoughtful presents.)
Speaking of presents, sometimes when I am lying or sitting still, I am convinced I can still feel the ocean. I would do anything for this to be true. (Thank you Mo & Po.)
I think I am turning into one of those crazy people who will die at 100 with a collection of Beanie Babies and Little People paraphernalia. I think this is due both to my immaturity and my tendency to hoard unnecessary items. (Chris and I may have spent 30 minutes in Wal-Mart yesterday debating between getting Claire a Little People SUV or a race car track meant for a boy. We left with nothing.)
Things are slow at the Leppert household. (If you couldn't tell.)
I have a shopping problem. The bigger problem is that I only shop for Claire. I may be in clothes from high school, but at least my daughter never wears the same thing twice. (Only kidding, sort of.)
I remember when Chris and I really liked Heroes. One night, towards the beginning of my pregnancy, he turned to me and said, "I kind of like the name Claire." (Or maybe it was me, but the point is, we agreed.)
I made lasagna tonight. It was not very good. I am convinced that the marinara sauce I used was watered down. I will avoid saying the brand lest I lose your any respect you might have for me. (Suffice it to say, it never would have flown in the Old World.)
Today I lost the Tiffany charm to my necklace. On a scale of 1-10 this sucks about 100. Chris gave me the charm attached to a bracelet which I have already lost. I was grateful to have not lost the charm. (Moral of the story: do not buy me any nice, sentimental, or otherwise thoughtful presents.)
Speaking of presents, sometimes when I am lying or sitting still, I am convinced I can still feel the ocean. I would do anything for this to be true. (Thank you Mo & Po.)
I think I am turning into one of those crazy people who will die at 100 with a collection of Beanie Babies and Little People paraphernalia. I think this is due both to my immaturity and my tendency to hoard unnecessary items. (Chris and I may have spent 30 minutes in Wal-Mart yesterday debating between getting Claire a Little People SUV or a race car track meant for a boy. We left with nothing.)
Things are slow at the Leppert household. (If you couldn't tell.)
1.02.2010
We are back from a perfect vacation. Claire was the definition of easy-- entertaining and easily entertained. Chris is back to work and I am resolving to get to work.Oh, and we are still really obsessed with our daughter. And thankfully, Chris got me a Flip video for Christmas, so I know you will all be anxiously anticipating more video of those chubby cheeks!
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