Sunday, January 27, 2013


When Morgan was very little, I used to post the funny little phrases or stories she'd tell, mostly marveling at her vocabulary or how she misused words. As she's getting older, the things she says are just becoming more random:

Morgan: Eeny meeny miny mo,
              Catch a tiger by the toe.
              My mom gave me fifty bucks,
              And you are it.

Who the hell ever suggested I was giving anyone fifty dollars?

Me: Morgan, what rhymes with bridge?
Morgan: I don't know, give me a clue.
David: It's where we keep all the milk.
Morgan: Oh, you mean the udders?

Yes, because udders clearly rhymes with fridge. Clearly.

Nana: David, did your friend have her baby?
David: Yes, and she actually delivered her at home!
Morgan: Dad, someone put the baby in the mail box?

And yes, I am just going to let her think that. After she asked me about breastfeeding last week, she told her entire class how much she liked drinking milk out of my boobs.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Cheap Tricks

There was a part of me that was hesitant to post anything this week after our big announcement. Frankly, no amount of Morgan antics can compare with might be on the horizon for us. However, until we actually have a new member of our family, you're just going to have to settle for our regularly scheduled programming...I will try to make it worth your while.

Last Saturday was one of my darkest busiest days as the mother of a preschooler. We had two back-to-back birthday parties, one of which was at Chuck E Cheese. at 6:00. on a Saturday night. AND MY KID HAD NO NAP. I will spare you the details, but we ended up carrying Morgan to the car, as she repeatedly called me stupid while I pinned her into her car seat. Oh yeah, and then she threw her shoes at me while I was driving.

However, before everything imploded, they distributed goody bags to all of the attendees. Frankly, it was the highlight of my day. For less than a dollar, every kid was in stitches, convinced they were Groucho Marx reincarnated. 

Unfortunately, what was precious on a group of little girls was full on creepy on a grown ass man. After we finally got home and got Morgan calmed down (which I am just going to admit involved a corn dog, an orange slushy, and two glasses of wine-don't judge me), David thought he would try on the spectacles to see if he could get me to laugh. While he stood there grinning, I couldn't help but think he was just one step above parading around in a giant mouse costume. Now THAT would have helped me forget my misery...

Saturday, January 12, 2013


As 2012 drew to a close, I took a few minutes to reflect on each of my posts last year. What I realized very much surprised me. When I started my blog four years ago, my posts were generally brief and relatively hokey, something only a grandmother could love. As time has passed, I have grown, investing more in telling the story behind each photo, trying to paint a more complete picture of the life we live. Some of my posts continue to be dismal, but many of them are actually very funny and several have made me cry.

I have been more free to be honest, more free to be the person many of you know and tolerate. I have posted horrifying pictures of myself and cursed more than I know my mother-in-law is comfortable with. But what you see isn't always what you get.  David and I have been working on something for exactly one year, and have shared our plan with just a few people.  But sometimes, life does take a village, and I am hoping you will be a part of ours.

When I tell you that watching The Blind Side changed my life, I am not exaggerating (for those of you who don't know, The Blind Side chronicles the true story of a family that takes in a teenage boy and the tremendous impact they have on each other's lives). We were headed back from Wyoming, where we had just spent several days with my extended family -- people I love dearly and don't see nearly often enough. At the time, Morgan was just getting ready to turn three and David and I were talking about whether we wanted more children. 

As we rode home, I turned to him and said, "I think we should adopt. Not a brand new baby, but a little child. Maybe a little boy." We talked about how fortunate we are, how loving our family is, and how much room we have in our hearts for another little person. We talked about how hard life can be, and how much it would mean to make life a little less hard for someone else. We talked about how joyous childhood should be and how heartbreaking it is when it's not.

We talked about it for 6 months before we started filling out the application. Since then, we've taken classes, interviewed other adoptive families, and have gotten on a first-name basis with much of the staff at Health and Welfare. But for the most part, we've just waited. Waited to meet a person to bring into our hearts, waited to know how and when our family might grow, waited to know when our family will be complete.

We're still waiting. But I am hopeful, and I am optimistic. And there's part of me that knows sharing our story takes us one step closer to making this all a reality. I don't know when or where or how. But I know. And I am excited to see where this adventure takes us. Because, really, who wouldn't want our daughter as a big sister?

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Snow Day

I grew up in Eastern Idaho, where winters were harsh and the snow was often deep. In at least two instances, I got my tongue stuck to something frozen. The first was the railing outside our house (I have no idea why), the second was an icicle hanging from the exhaust pipe of our Buick. There was a lot of screaming and my mother pouring hot water down the front of me. I clearly lived to make her proud.
Raising Morgan in Boise has meant that winters are generally much more low key. We get snow and ice, but it rarely sticks. If he waits long enough, everything melts before David has to shovel it. This morning, we had a skiff of snow in the yard. I gathered up all of the snow gear I could find and told Morgan we were going to build a snowman. Oh, the joke was on me. The snow was dry and flaky, much more like rock salt than fluffy powder. Only one of us cared.
I quickly admitted defeat and was about to head in when I noticed Morgan hunched over in the yard, punching holes in the snow. I watched her walk, methodically placing each hole as she stepped.

Before long, we had a "track" leading all around the front yard.

Morgan stood there, beaming. I know she expected me to know what she had done but I had no idea, none. As she looked at me expectantly, I finally just had to ask. It was one of those moments that I didn't want her to know that whatever "masterpiece" she had created looked like a big pile of, well, nothing. Fortunately, she spared me the embarrassment. "Mom, can you believe all the deer we had walking around out here? There were just so many!!!" Duh.

At four, my child is already so much smarter than I am. That being said, I am still going to be on the lookout for dirty icicles.