Eight Months

Grumpster will be eight months old on Saturday. I think that's just beyond weird. She's hardly the same child now. Her personality is much too big for her body. She's constantly crawling all over creation and pulling herself up to stand on anything she can reach. She likes to do naughty things like sit on mommy's computer or try to feel daddy's brain by going in through his eye socket. She also enjoys saying "mamamamamamama", but only when she's whiny. During her other, happier moods, she likes to say "da daaadadaadada". I'm not sure how I feel about my name being associated with sadness. 

She's a little snot, but I love her dearly. I've honestly tried to imagine what my life would be like if we hadn't gotten pregnant immediately after our wedding, and I can't. Well, I can, but it's very... empty. As frustrated as I get with her, I definitely wouldn't want my life any other way -- stretch marks and all.

Since It's Sunday

When I was in high school,

there was always a student who read the morning announcements

over the loudspeaker.

At the end of everything, they'd say

"Make it a great day, or not... the choice is yours."

I never really thought much about it

until I was struggling with my divorce.

It was up to me to have a good day.

It was up to me to find something to be happy about.

My mood was my choice. 

Let's all choose today to find just

one thing

to be happy about.

Even if we are, quite possibly,

having the worst day of our lives,

there's always one thing to smile about.

We always have a choice.

I Take It All Back

Hello, dear readers!

I've missed you.

I know that I'm a little lot late to the party this year

but I've decided to try something else with my little corner of the internet.

While I will hopefully maintain a certain

je ne sais quoi (translated- sassypants)

I also want to aim a little higher with my posts.

While I may lose some readers doing this,

I feel that it's important for me to share with those who will listen

what makes me happiest in life.

No, not every post will be

"churchy."

But there will be some.

Please know

that I don't mean to offend any of you with my writing.

All I ask

is that if you disagree with something I've said,

please be respectful and kind.

I'm a Mormon

and

Since It's Sunday

"I stand in holy places
Protected from the storm
Anchored safe in harbor
Though my sails are ripped and worn
I stand in holy places
And I will not move
Until the Lord has come and says, "Well done,"
He is the hope I hold onto
In holy places"

-  "Stand In Holy Places" by Jenny Jordan Frogley 

Friday's Letters

Dear Lovekins: You're so awesomepants for taking care of me last week while I was puking up my guts. Honestly, how many stomachs can I possibly have for all of that to be produced? Regardless, I love you a whole bunch. However, I'm mad at you because when I "got you sick", all you got was a neckache. Boo. I mean, how do you do that? How do I spend four days in the fetal position clutching a bucket, when you get a neckache and are "a little chilly"?

Dear Christmas: I hate you and I love you. I hate you because: You're expensive. You're cold. You're messy. You come bearing fruitcake from everyone I have ever met. You are no longer politially correct. I love you because: You're Christmas.

Dear Grumpkins: You're a silly kid. I love that your personality is showing a lot more now. You're playing games and cracking jokes that only you get, apparently. Heaven forbid we interrupt you. Carry on playing by yourself in your crib. Mommy's gonna go have a nap.

Dear Judgemental Jerkholes: Yes, I'm married. No, I'm not sixteen. Yes, she's mine. Yes, I know who the father is and NO, I was not drunk during conception. Does that answer everything? I mean, really. I know I'm small, but so? I don't pass judgement on you just because your entire shopping cart is full of boxed wine and you smell like feet. We are all God's children. (Said with the utmost Sassy Pantsness.)

Dear Bloggy Friends: I've come to the realization recently that I'm loads funnier while I'm pregnant. That being said, no, I'm not going to run out and get pregnant again any time soon. Not on purpose, anyway. So, for now, you'll just have to put up with some occasional lackluster posts about The Grumpster and my dying social life. Cheers.
 

Instagram Update

 

 

 

Babies are the coolest.

She's babbling now.

Saying

da da da da da da da da da da daaaaa

over and over again.

Nick thinks that counts as a win.

It's not a win, is it?

 

She also likes singing.

Not only does she like my singing,

but she likes to sing

all by herself.

She sounds a bit like

a dog whistle

on steroids.

But it's okay

because

it makes her so happy.

Especially when we clap

and say, "YAY!"

 

 

Like I said,

babies are the coolest.