Shhh! Secret Post!

Don't tell anybody, but I'm writing on my blog. On Gram's laptop in her kitchen. We're out here because Mike's sister Amy and her family came out to play with us and we needed a break also. But I'm secretly posting on my blog real quick.

Today I'm going to make these cupcakes:

http://mimis-kitchen.blogspot.com/2011/10/mummy-cupakes.html

Holy Monsters, I'm so excited! I already made some chocolate cupcakes (Katie's cousin, Spencer, says those are his favorite) and next we're gonna make some mummies.

Aren't you excited too?


ALSO: I just have discovered that this is my 200th BLOG POST!!! WOOOHOOOOO! To celebrate, I will now post one of the scariest pictures you could ever see in your entire life!

Are you ready?

I bet you weren't ready. I sure wasn't. But there it is.

Happy 200th blog post everybody!

It's raining, it's pouring, the Katie is snoring!

Well, actually, we all are snoring. I've heard I've got a rather impressive rumble myself. The point is that all this unnecessary and rather inconsiderate moisture has caused our family to be all full of  yucky congestion. Including the Katie. I mean, seriously.

Speaking of my crazy baby, I have a funny story. So, last night I had one of the creepiest dreams ever. It had to do with a hangman and cannibals and . . . um, let's stop talking about that.

Anyhow, Katie woke me up from that dream really early this morning, and I was mega mega mega creeped out. So I brought her in bed with me to feed her back to sleep, and I shook Mike awake and was like, "Mike, I had a creepy dream!" And of course, my sweet husband said, "mmm, grumble grumble, don't be scared," and proceeded to sleep some more.

Needless to say, that wasn't particularly comforting. So, I huddled in a ball, trembling in terror at the thought of creepy cannibals coming to eat me. Also, I couldn't put Katie back in her bed for fear that said cannibals would come take my sweet baby.

But there's a problem with that. Remember how I said that Katie likes my bed much better than hers? Well, I've never told you how she sleeps. See, when I put Katie in her crib, she sleeps pretty soundly and only turns over a couple of times. Unfortunately, when she gets in my bed, her true self comes out . . . Kung Fu Katie! (bwa bwa bwaaaaaaa!)

You guys remember Kung Fu Katie, don't you? From way back before Katie was even born? (Whoa, that was a long time ago.) Well, she's still a rather intimidating force. Especially with her ability to get all snuggly long enough for you to fall asleep, then suddenly simultaneously kick you in the esophagus and squish your head with her 20-pound diaper bum, all while doing her best imitation of a banshee. Rinse and repeat.

So . . . I didn't get very much sleep last night. My own fault? Yes. A rather entertaining story (now that it's daylight)? Also yes.

Once upon a dream!

I know there are a lot of people who do not let their children watch Disney movies, for a lot of different reasons. Some are against the company for supporting gays and lesbians, and some don't like the movies, because they support rebellion against parents and immodesty, or teach girls to be weak and rely on men. And even if I don't agree, I have nothing against the people who believe that. Their children, their decision.

I will say that I am fully a fan of Disney movies, and I had the entire script of The Little Mermaid memorized by the time I was 2. And in perfect pitch (which I don't have anymore. Well, close. But not perfect. Music is the one thing I know I can do.)

But I realized something the other day. Mike and Katie and I were having a staying-in night while everybody else was away at their various activities, and we decided to watch Sleeping Beauty because neither of us had seen it in a lot of years. And it was beautiful and classic and I quite enjoyed it. But I realized that the Disney movies I watched as a kid have really affected the kind of person that I am.

For example: my favorite Disney movies are The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Mulan, and Tangled. All the rebellious, strong-willed girls who (at least try to) stand up to the men around them. I don't know about you guys, but I'm not really a sit-back-and-watch-somebody-else-do-things kind of a person. Ask my freshman roommates how I felt about not having a career and getting married young and staying home with a bunch of babies (even if you all know that my views on that subject have since changed.)

But I also really like Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella. And they're the movies where the title character just put her head on her desk to cry and then got saved by a fairy godmother or handsome prince or both. My idea of what love should be like is rather old-fashioned, and I wonder if this is why. I think boys should ask girls on dates and open doors for them, and I think it's super romantic just when Mike kisses my hand.

And I think I've turned out pretty well, so I'm definitely going to let Katie watch movies about princesses.

Not to mention she's already seen The Little Mermaid and Tangled with me once or twice, so it's too late. Buaha.

Don't stop me now!

'Cause Katie sure is having a good time.

Well, it's official. She's crawling. Still sort of like a robot, and she really has a hard time on linoleum and tile with her little leggings on, but she's doing it. The other day, Sarah had a glass of water with ice (which Katie totally loves) and we decided to see how fast she was. Sarah gave her a sip, then put the water on the floor on the other side of the kitchen. Katie took, like, 3 1/2 seconds to get there. So Sarah would give her another sip and put it on the other side again. Etc.

It was minorly funny at several points because Katie has a tendency to fall on her face sometimes in her efforts to go too fast, especially on slippery floors, but still. When did my baby grow up so fast?

She kind of began it this weekend, when we went to visit Mike's sister Kliss and her husband, Brett. (Notice my skillful use of restrictive and nonrestrictive modifiers in that last sentence. It's all in the commas, man. All in the commas.) We went to their cute, well-decorated, non-expensive apartment and hung out this weekend. It was secretly supposed to be about dropping another sister off at college, but mostly it was not. We made sugar cookies, went on a walk, experienced church that was full of babies, and just hung out. It was so great! We really needed it to be able to de-stress and feel like real grown-ups for a while.

Unfortunately, I began to break the tenth commandment, as my dad would say. See, when we had our own apartment (ah, the good 'ole days!) it was both cinder block and way too expensive. Kliss's apartment is lovely drywall and is like half the rent than we used to pay. My jealousy is still raging.

Can you imagine? A dishwasher, a washer and dryer, and a stove that's big enough for a full-sized cookie sheet? Sigh . . .

Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't Katie.

I've made a few observations about my baby recently.

The first has to do with a baby shower I attended last week. As most of the people attending were moms, there were also several babies in attendance. One such was baby Nora, who is only a month older than Katie, and we discovered that they have similar interests. They seemed to have trouble sharing the plush basketball, though there were lots of other toys, and they both seemed rather intent on gouging the other's eyes out. (It was slightly more of an ambition for my baby. Sorry, Nora.)

But most of all, I noticed a big difference between Katie and the other babies there. Including the two-week-old for whom the shower was being held. And it had much to do with the color of their hair.

Blondies are baldies.

It's true! The other babies there were all brunettes, and even the newest ones had a little tuft of hair that was at least close to ponytail worthy. Their luxurious locks would probably have been blowing in the wind had we not been in somebody's living room. But Katie, my little blonde angel baby, has a slight amount of fuzz that is nowhere near visible from any kind of distance.

And looking back at my ward in Provo, where we were surrounded by babies of all shapes and sizes, I realize that it is true! There were plenty of brunette babies who had more hair than me, and there were little blond babies who couldn't even work up a good solid bedhead until they were two! Oh man, it's a good thing the Katie lets me stick bows and flowers on her head.

Another observation I have made about my baby is that she is much bigger than I had planned on her being already. She's going to be eight months old on Sunday. Doesn't that freak you guys out? She's a big 'ole chub-a-lub baby. (Which is weird because she always used to be the skinniest kid around.)

Also, she would much rather walk than crawl. We've been painstakingly putting things she wants just far enough to make her try to crawl, but she always gets impatient and just scoots on her bum. I know she can crawl, but she refuses to do it. Walking, on the other hand, she thinks is the bees' knees. She's always pulling herself up to standing on whatever she can grab--bookshelves, the bar underneath my rocking chair, my pant leg, etc. And she thinks it's hilarious when I hold her hands and let her walk to somebody instead of just carrying her. I think we're not far from it.

Mike even had to move the crib mattress down so that she can't jump over the side because, oh boy, she is definitely tall enough to do it.

STOP GROWING UP SO FAST, BABY!!!

Don't Worry, Be Happy!

I shall now proceed to redeem myself by writing only happy and silly things. (I mean, seriously, that last post was so whiny. I'd be amazed if any of you come back after that. Prolly nobody's reading this because I drove you all away with my inconsiderate whiny-ness.) I'll even sprinkle some pictures periodically to make it better.

First of all, let me warn you. If you intend to invite us over to your house (though I don't know why you would invite me over when you're in danger of being whined at to death), you will need to batten down the hatches, as it were. Lock up your valuables. Hide your kids and wives. No, I was kidding about that last one. But they'll probably be drooled on.

Yep, you guessed it. The Katie has now become mobile. And teething. Yes, also teething. She scoots about the house on her bum (almost crawling but still just scooting), leaving wet objects that she has gnawed on in her wake.

My mom is gonna need to fix her cabinet locks and such.

Also, I have decided that one of the contributors to my whiny-ness is my rather lack of . . . um, health. So I started working out more frequently in the mornings. I lie on the floor looking ridiculous doing ab workouts while Katie sits in her crib laughing at me. Yes, she laughs at me. She seems to think that my meager attempt at muscles is funny. Silly child. I'm not the one with elbow dimples.

Another, ironically, has been the long stretch since I have made real-live, actual cupcakes. I made some "cupcakes" that were more like brownie bites last week, but that doesn't count. Also, they were not cute. Not at all. I didn't even pipe the frosting. Heck, I didn't even spread the frosting. Just dumped a chunk on with a knife. And it wasn't really frosting.

So I have decided to make some s'more cupcakes (hehe, get it?). So much that I have even dreamt about making them. Oh, boy, they were tasty in the dream world. They gonna be SO good in real life. Mmmmm mmmmm. (The picture is of some banana split cupcakes I made a while ago. They were definitely scrumptious.)

Right now Katie is wearing a green jumper with big white polka dots and she kinda looks like a Mario Brothers' mushroom. If Sam jumps on her, he'd get thirty points. I better not tell him.

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to!

First of all, let me say I'm sorry for being such a horrible person and making you wait seventeen years between blog posts. I'm a dreadful blog manager. It's just embarrassing.

Secondly, I've decided not to put up all of the pictures of my recent food adventures just yet because I've had many and this blog would quickly become not a witty--sometimes even snarky--blog about my delightful child and adventures, and become a food blog. All about cupcakes. With not words because as soon as I put up pictures of cupcakes I would decide that I needed a cupcake and go get my bakin' on in a serious way. And not write.

Maybe next time I'll do a catalog of recent cupcakes. And then ditch them on this blog forever. Or at least for a week.

Anyway, the inspiration for my title lyric is, well, Katie. The little poop has had quite the emotional week. And, dreadful as it is, I believe that it began with me. Horrible mommy that I am, I took her last Monday to get her shots. I know, I know, she's seven months old and I'm a total slacker, but now she won't get pertussis or pneumococcal meningitis or anything like that. Which is probably a good thing.

But then, she decided she was going to actually exhibit symptoms this time around. For all of her other shots, they told me the whole "she may have a slight fever and such and such and tylenol and blah blah blah call us blah blah blah." And I was like, whatevs. My baby is superwoman. So of course, she actually got kind of feverish and cranky and yelled at me when I touched her legs for the next few days. Totally blew me away.

And THEN, she stopped sleeping at all at night. Remember that one time how she stopped sleeping through the night this summer and hasn't taken more than three real naps for the last three months? Well, when she's feverish, it gets worse. I may never sleep again.

And don't let it fool you that she's on the floor behind me giggling and saying "bah bah bah da dla dla ga go go rara!" That's all totally a ruse. She's really a plotting little twerp who is secretly thinking "hehehe, what can I do now to make sure my mommy is never productive again? Buahahahaha!"

Also, this baby is never going to learn how to crawl or walk or anything if my siblings can help it. I guess that part I can wait for.