Learn to Swerve.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch.

I'm certain you've all been scratching your heads in sheer puzzlement as to where Ruth kajolled off to this past week and a half. Perhaps why my blog was passworded and my scrapbooking skills were not all too existent. WELL. LEt's just say a rotten comment got my radar going as to who actually reads this meanderment.
In pure Ruth FAshion, I passworded it, neglecting to, I don't know, write down the password. Being the organized perfectionist that I am. ( I hope you're all rolling your eyes at that), It took me several days to get back into this thing.

Catastrophe averted, I am back. No need to fear. I can't leave this badboy for long. I end up filling out ridiculous myspace surveys at all hours of the night, wondering why it is my baby can't figure out that day- eyes open, night = eyes shut. SHe has my genes and eating happens to be her favorite pasttime. I can't say that I blame her. She now weights almost 8 pounds and is officially 6 weeks old. Dude. THey grow so fast.

My son starts Kindergarten in a week, and Aubree will leave the comforts of home for Pre-K. I'll have so much free time I don't know what I'll do with it all. Perhaps I'll get a hobby, one that relieves the stress of my current "hobby". Scrapbooking hasn't come easily in the past few weeks, I'm so tired I can't even think beyond a photo, and my room is a disaster. Mike has suggested we Nuke it and claim the damages on our tax returns. I did manage to get some assignments in the works, and hope I can make a comeback as far as making pages goes.

We're fairing well, although my counterpart in crime, my sister, and new found friend of free fun, is leaving me tomorrow. 6am to be exact. And I get to be the one to take her. Happy Happy joy joy. I'm sad to see her go, she's inspired me to do so much.
Namely run 5 miles 6 weeks after giving birth. If you don't think Heifers can run, I assure you we can. Not well, mind you. I thought I was going to have to call for a cab half way through. the only thing that stopped me was I had nothing to offer for payment but a sweaty ipod and a really beat up cell phone. FEar not. I made it. However.
I weighed myself today and apparently running that far leaves my body clinging to its fat cells for dear life and today's weight was 5 pounds more than yesterday. Blasted scale. A throne of lies, all of it.

On that note.
I am starting weight watchers tomorrow and hope to be back to my pre-pregnancy weight before my baby starts crawling. IF she's anything like her sibling counterparts, she'll wait until she's 9 months old, which gives me plenty of time to lose 25 pounds. She weighed 6.4 I gained 25, and I had about 15 I didn't like to start with. So. I'm meeting my metabolism in the middle and saying 25 pounds.

I was going to take a before photo, to show you all what we had to work with, but the camera really seemed to add far more than the alloted 10 pounds I hear so much about. So a face shot will have to do.

So I offer you curly and straight.
I've also decided my hair resembles an unkempt mullet, with rats for residents, and a hair cut is in order. Something low maintenance and kid friendly. I'm going to think on it for a bit, and will be sure to post results.

IT is 2am, and MIa is finally done eating. SO. TIs time to hit the sack. THanks for all the worried readers, I'm so glad you though enough to ask me for the pasword. I've decided I'm not going to let a bad apple spoil my fun. Takes more than a negative comment to ruin my day.

You can't scare me. I have Kids. ;)

What was I thinking???

1. When I volunteered my services as a babysitter to 3 children, during the past 3 weeks in hopes of adding a little pre-new school year skrilla to the pile. Not only were there 8 children in my small post house, but I felt the need to share the earnings with my sister who is living with me and helping me out a ton. SO by the time I paid for food, and split the cold hard cash, one could surmise that: I made bubkiss, my house is a disaster and I am no closer to being Stacey from the baby-sitters club than I was that year in Jr. High when I prayed to be diabetic so that I too could knab a kiss from A hottie named Luca like she did in the Movie The babysitters club. WHICH, by the way, still tops my list as one of the best movies of that era. Really. girls: baby-sitting, hot boys. What more could a girl ask for?

2. When I said "I do" to my hot, albeit somewhat poor husband 6 years ago, hoping for a life of travel and bling bling. The only places we travel to are hot muggy, and rejected by all other branches of the military for possible base buliding, therefore left to the lowest bidder, The ARMY, and the bling I so longed for has made it self visible only in the form of a broken glass screen door which when hit at 20 miles per hour with a large brick by my innocent 5 year old, shattered into MILLIONS of small pieces. "Mom, I made diamonds he exclaimed with great triumph". Alas. The good life has arrived. DOn't misread me. I love my husband. I love my children. There are days however, like today for instance, that I wish the military saw to it to pay us a tad more for our services. This too shall pass.

3. When I decided to save some of the skirlla mentioned in both paragraph one and paragraph 2 of today's entry, and wax my own eyebrows. It was always known that my younger sister got the gift of brains, and my other sister got the gift of beauty, and the ability to bestow it upon others in the form of cosmetology school. I however, did not get those genes. If I had, I would have used my brains to JUST SAY NO to home waxing.

I didn't. If you look closely you will see the red scar from the incident I like to refer to as, "The brow scarring". Nice huh.

And where my eyebrow used to be there now resides a small but very noticeable burn which screams
" I wax at home". Or better yet, " I tried to wax at home and failed miserably, feel free to point and laugh as you pass me with my shopping cart of band-aids and brown eyeliner which I intend on using to fill in the missing patches of hair." The eyeliner does wonders, and the bleeding I'm told will stop as soon as I stop touching it. Vanity never did get one ahead of the game.

4. Where were my brains when I decided to purchase for below mentioned spoiled daughter on her 4th birthday, one smallish stroller that I repeatedly told her was only to be used by her and her dolls, not her niece who was to remain outside of said smallish stroller. I neglected to mention the 1 month old, AKA, her sister, was also not to be pushed in the stroller. I went to the bathroom, only to find this... My sister apparently assisted in the placement of baby Mia into the stroller, so as not to give Aubree any ideas for carrying her by herself. I found it quite humorous that she actually fits into it. I get told all the time how much like a doll she looks. I think I'm starting to see why.

5. When I encouraged my work-out-aholic husband to get the surgery he needed on his left shoulder so that he could continue on his quest to single handedly lift 500 pounds for no other reason than to say that he did it. Not only did he get the surgery and render his arm completely useless for the next 4-6 months, but the fact that flying involves 2 arms, means that he is home from work for the next 6 weeks, hanging out with yours truly, and keeping me ever so busy, since he is now out of the loop of the daily occurances of his fellow pilot cronies, via, you guessed it, text messages. " Hey babe, I'm on the couch." Hey babe, make me a slushee". " hey babe, the baby needs fed". Heaven forbid we speak to each other. In all seriousness, his arm surgery went well, and now he just has to wait for the Dr's ok to even so much as lift it with assistance. It's weird to see my husband with a contraption such as this...on his arm, not to mention his poor little muscle is non-existant due to the atrophy not moving it has caused. Sad I tell ya. But as he informed me, he has 15 months in Afghanistan to make it, ( and I quote " The muscle envy of all 30 year old men everywhere." Nice.

I'd love to keep going on this tangent of what was I thinking, but, you guessed it. I've just recived a text message from the couch, that my husband is going to the bathroom and my services as a mother are needed in the living room. *sigh*. In the words of The one and only terminator... I'll be back.

Four Score and Twenty Years ago...

I gave birth to this little girl. Ok, so it wasn't 4 score and 20, it was 4. But she begs to differ. She's 4 going on 25. She's a devil who wears princess to disguise her horns. She's spoiled, but rightfully so.

She's a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll.

She's not afraid to speak her mind, and she's more courageous than I could ever hope to be. She has her daddy wrapped around her pinky finger, and knows she's the most adorable child ever to grace a scrapbook page.

She works hard at making messes, and a long day's work is never complete when dress up is involved.

She can often be found wandering the house at night wearing "hooker heels" and a feather boa. She's more girly than tomboy, but don't think she can't hold her own in a shoot out.

Her fingernails are usually filled with dirt, and if her face is clean it's not because she approves. Her poses range from vogue to you know I'm cute.
She's full of grace, and her feminity oozes out of every pore. As seen here in this layout where she not only picks her nose, but relieves her gas in the presence of anyone within a 1 mile radius.
She's continually exhausted because as she informed me "being pretty is so hard... " Why is being pretty so hard AUbree? "Because I never get anything done..."
She's My girl, my baby, my first daughter, and a trial of my patience. SHe's just like me, but my polar opposite. SHe's everything I ever wanted to be, and everything I wanted in my own little girl. I love her spirit, and her ability to dream in color, when I tend to dream in black and white I cannot thank my HEavenly father enough for sending me her 4 years ago.

To the princess of quite alot. For your 4th year until your 94th. Thank you for your joy, your laughter and your life. HAppy Birthday Aubs. I love you kiddo ;)