gone youtubin'

If there's anything I know about myself, it's that when I'm fixated on something, I'm (slightly) possessed by it.

Enter YouTube.

I've been refreshing my YouTube page every ten seconds of my free time, and I'm back in my old video making groove. It took me a few videos to build up to it, but today I talked to YouTube about my thoughts on trying to conceive a second baby with IVF. Since I know my blog readers are probably also politely wondering, here ya go.

(I'm sorry it's horribly unfocused. If it really bothers you, just close your eyes and listen to the words.)

And a few others I've been working on:

cupcake date. sleepless night.

We take cupcake shops kinda seriously.


This morning we went to the park to play with our girlfriends in 48 degree weather with no gloves and 6 hours of sleep. A middle of the playground, 20 minute-long meltdown had us strapping right back into the car. Now we're curled up watching Toy Story 3 with a big cup o' Cheerios. My aching body is begging for an early nap time.

Carter has this fixation with going to sleep in the bed with Matt & I lately. Usually I can move him into the crib easily after an hour (carrying his limp, sleep-soaked body to his room is one of the highlights of my day). Except last night he woke up screaming to come back to our bed at 4 a.m., then jumped on us for two hours after that.

He's starting to attempt so many full sentences and new words, it blows my mind. The more he talks, the cuter he gets. But this sudden regression in sleep habits has me thinking he's looking for a change. Like maybe a big boy bed.

join our january afternoon

saying no.


I couple months ago, I think I had a draft written (but never published) about how it was hard for me to say No to my baby-faced toddler. Not because I felt bad saying it, though. He cried so friggin' much since the day he was born, and if a simple yes to Pepsi could stop the crying, he had it.

Now? He's the one in charge. He tells Matt & I No more frequently than he breathes air. And it's not the type of innocent, cute rebellion a new toddler has just because it's one of the first words in his vocabulary. He says no to ev.er.eey.thing. Screams it. Bloody murder's it. It's turning into a blatant disrespect thing. I'm having a hard time using the word disrespect in regard to Carter because he doesn't even know what that is, but that's the only way to describe it. Every task is a battle receiving no consideration.

My instinct for the past day or so has been to put him in time out whenever he yells no at me. I let him skirt it if he happens to say No, thanks (once). I'm nervous I've turned Nazi, not even allowing the child his own opinion about baths, meals, shoes ... but when does the point come where he has to learn to respect his parents? Shouldn't it start now?



I ignored the number and had my birthday the other day.


My friend Ashley showed up and took me to a late lunch in downtown Apex. She and I are polar opposites, but we're convinced that that's why we're good for each other. It felt awesome to have someone concerned about keeping me busy on my birthday.


I had two cuties take me on a dinner date. One of them was pushing a hard proposal that he stay home and play with my his balloons.


I was spoiled with roses, balloons, stemless wine glasses and a new Nikon. I'm waiting for the weather to get less stormy so I can go outside and play with the camera; indoor pictures get my rookie skills all blurry and frustrated.


Matt took off work yesterday so we could lounge around together and topped me off with the ultimate birthday gift - a three hour, guilt-free, rainy day nap.

grocery princess.


I hate to publicize the possibility that I'm this type of person. But hey, it makes a good blog story.

I started shopping at a cheaper grocery store recently. The type of store that doesn't online shop for you and, quite honestly, treats you like you're cheap. But it's seriously pretty, clean and it's been saving me $40-50 a trip, so I wasn't minding the sub-par service.

I ran to the store at about 10:30 p.m. the other night to grab groceries. It's easier for me to shop by myself when we're settled for the night; Matt's in the house with Carter, we've eaten and there's nothing left to do but sleep and poke at the internet.

I walked in thinking they were open 24 hours - but seeing the emptiness, I made myself go ask a (staring) cashier what time they closed. 11 p.m. That gave me exactly 25 minutes to grab as much cheap nutrition off my list as I could.

Up and down the aisles, I felt the eyes of the young, wantingtogohome employees on me. At around 10:50 p.m., I heard this announcement: The store will be closing in 10 minutes, please make your final selections before you check out. Awesome. That's plenty of time. I started to beeline to the produce because I'd forgotten Carter's apples when I found that same checkout girl in my path.

You need to come check out now, she said.

Immediately, I was offended. 1. Being told what to do. And by someone younger than me. I dunno, it felt wrong. 2. I thought I had 10 minutes. 3. Am I being hassled? Seriously?

It took everything I had to comply with an Okay. I wheeled over to the checkout lane and asked her if I could go grab some bread really quickly while she started to ring up my cart.

She told me no.

But not just no. I had to use the self-checkout, too. In disbelief, I stood. Man, I needed those hamburger buns. I grabbed my purse, stranded my cart and went to get my bread anyway. I came back and started ringing up my cart full of items. Quickly - because they were blatantly rushing me. Slowly - because I'm not a cashier. It takes me forever to find the bar codes and individually weigh my vegetables. By now, I was mad. I couldn't help slamming the products into bags and the loud, heavy sighs rolling out of my mouth. Two employees stood, arms crossed, 5 feet away, watching me. Another one was turning off lights and locking doors. Twenty minutes later, I finished ringing, bagging and paying myself in the silence. Without a single offer of assurance or help, only impatient eyes.

After I put my groceries in the car, I didn't bother with the cart. I figured leaving it sitting behind my car was the least vengeance I could get. And since there weren't any other cars in the lot, no harm done. I smiled a little to myself when the cart started rolling downhill. I got in the car, turned on the engine and saw one of the employees sprinting after it. Good.

I wanted to talk myself out of the idea that I was acting like a spoiled brat; that people don't normally get offended when you have to do work for yourself. But here's the rationale I came up with. A business that takes our money - no matter what kind - should want to make its customers feel welcome, want to help them, and hire people as such. The last thing it should do is rush them to leave the store and make them feel insignificant and unwanted.

When I got home, I went to their national web site and wrote the guys in charge an email about this service. I added something along the lines about how saving money wasn't worth being treated that way.

Today a woman from the store called me. She asked me what happened, and I found actually having to tell the story had me foolishly pulling from the vocabulary of a tattling first grader. Voice quivering, hands shaking. Not because I thought I was wrong; I guess it was embarrassing to be a complainer when there are so many more significant things in the world than a housewife who had to ring up her own cart of groceries. Regardless, I got an apology, and she agreed I shouldn't have been treated that way. She told me a gift card (no idea how much) would be waiting for me at the store, should I choose to come back.

I'm sending Carter inside to get it for me. Nobody could ever be mean to him.

starting the year.


Besides background television babble and constant Carter chit chat, there's silence in my days again. We got to welcome Christmas for the first time in our new house, travel East and West to open gifts with both of my parents and party into 2012 with my brother-in-law and new friends.

My husband was home for 17 days; today he's gone back to work. With adult conversation gone and holiday errands done, I can't help but feel a sense of change hit with the new year. It's like things have gone back to normal, except normal feels better than it did before. No, not better. More blissful. Having Matt at my side day in and out did ridiculously therapeutic things for my spirit. Seeing my parents settles me with satisfaction. Everyone is ok - I've gone, I've witnessed it. I loved watching Carter's face absorb lights, parties, people and toys in the busy holiday jumble. Last month I couldn't breathe; overwhelmed by some sort of unreasonable depression. Right now? I can't even swallow when I step back and try to gauge it all. My chest wants to burst in happy gratitude. This is actually my life.

Holiday Party.
Screen shot 2011-12-30 at 1.54.33 PM

(I like my ears here.)
Screen shot 2011-12-30 at 1.54.42 PMDSC_0099

Grandma's House

Christmas morning.

Trip to Tennessee.

My dad and my Aunt Eva (the kindest person you'd ever meet).

Visiting a pond of swans. (Forgive that I have no actual swans in the picture)

New Year's Eve.

As for the new year, I don't have any concrete goals. I don't see the point in adding things you don't enjoy into your days for the sake of somehow bettering yourself (spend less, eliminate soda, etc.) Committing yourself to difficulties is the wrong direction to gear your life. I just want to increase the amount of fun in my years and do things that boost my disposition. Here's my tentative list:

Make more videos. I really have fun sharing my life. I want to let my guard down and be able to post more candid YouTube videos where I don't require myself an hour of planning (hair/makeup), upon hours of editing and searching for music. I want to get weekly videos up and kinda make a career-ish type thing out of it. Career's not the word I wanted. Dedication? Commitment? Marry me, YouTube.
I need that attitude about this blog, too. One day I'm just going to publish a post that says nothing but: Hi.

Keep walking. Maybe even run. Carter and I have been taking frequent two mile walks since November. Fitness or not, the walks make me feel like I've punched laziness in the face.

Always have a good book. Getting lost in a novel gives me so much to look forward to at night. I've noticed when I've got a book on my nightstand, my mind wanders off to sleep faster because I'm daydreaming about the story, and my head's not racing about petty things in life. Plus, I like to think it improves my writing. If - you want to call it writing.

Keep Carter busy. If I want him to be smart, there's only one way to do it. Get him out, show him things, talk nonstop. Kiss his face. And kiss it again when he wipes it off.

Find more giant flowers and wear them in my hair. I like them.


Want to read a more intelligent take on New Year's resolutions? Click over to my friend Jenney's blog! I love/stalk her, she's addictingly honest about her life. (And check out how awesome her Christmas card was while you're there.)

christmas 2011 video

We've been going nonstop! I had a chance to get some holiday video footage put together. Pictures will be soon!