Our Sweet Sarah Beth

baby

Darling Little Debbie

baby

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Sorry, the backyardigans video was too dark to see. Here's another one instead, showcasing SB's many talents. She's a fighter, dancer, swimmer and fisherman. What can't this kid do?

Monday, February 25, 2008

Go back in, go back in!

Well, SB broke a tooth through last week. I've blamed that thing for many a foul mood over the course of the days preceeding this glorious event.

Last Thursday was a pretty big day for us. While we were dancing a little jig around our accountant's office, Jack's grandmother was watching SB. While she was there, she cut her first tooth, played on her tummy and learned how to crawl. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit on the crawling part, but she totally scooted like 2 feet across their floor. She's so smart. We are definitely going to have to send SB to the grandparents more often.

Anyway, she's been getting very angry with me every time I put her on her stomach to play. She prefers her back, but the bald spot is really getting in the way of her career as a pageant star. We're considering hair plugs, but before we make that leap, I thought I'd try tummy time.

She always yells at me whenever I put her on her stomach, and I told Jack's grandmother that she was welcome to try it but that SB would certainly scream. However, as soon as Gran put her down on her stomach, SB pulled her little legs underneath her and vaulted herself across the floor. Then she cried. However, this was a major victory for us.

So I picked her up and let her chew on my finger to calm her down, and BAM-she nearly drew blood. Sure enough, I checked her mouth and there was a tiny little (sharp) tooth sticking through. It was a very exciting time for us. I tried to take a picture, but every time I pull her lip down, she sticks her tongue out so I can't see.

A second tooth is trying desperately to poke through next to the first one, and SB has been giving me fits the past few days about it. Poor kid. I bet it hurts. So that thing needs to hurry up and show itself, or I'm going to lose my mind.

She spent the past week sleeping through the night- again, a teaser. When those teeth started sprouting, it's been bye bye bedtime. Lately, one of the few things that will calm her is watching a television show called "The Backyardigans." Whenever the rather catchy theme song begins to play, SB lights up and shuts up. It's been a life saver on more than one occasion. We took a short video of her watching the show, and as soon as it finishes uploading, I'll post it for your entertainment.

In the meantime, she's awake from her very brief nap, so it's off to work I go.

Friday, February 22, 2008

"we should have another baby"

Yes, this is a direct quote from my dear husband. He told me this morning that he thinks it's time we had another kid. But that's only the end of the story. We're going to Tarantino this thing and find out why he said this.

Let's go back.

We spent Wednesday preparing for our taxes. No easy task when you consider that we have to go through all of our receipts for the whole year. The Lowe's file alone was about a foot thick. No surprise when Jack goes there about 3 times a day. That's nearly a thousand receipts from just one store!

So we added it all up; several hours and 3 paper cuts later, we were done. Our appointment with our accountant was yesterday afternoon, and we were none too happy about it. We're going on 4 years of marriage, and in our house, refunds are unheard of. Every year we owe more than the one before it. 2007 was an exceptionally SLOW year in the construction business, so we didn't think we would owe too much. We also prepaid a good bit last year, thinking that would soften the blow.

Well, long story short, we spent about 1 1/2 hours going over all of our expenses with our accountant, and it turns out that SB is quite the little tax write-off! Between having a baby and buying a house, we were off to a good start. When you add in the fact that business was so slow, baby you've got a stew going! Before we even finished claiming all of our deductions, we were getting money back!!! I almost fell out of my chair when I heard.

SB pretty much paid us back for the cost of getting her here. So let's just say we were grateful. I wanted to do something nice for her, so I ate plenty of oreos and ice cream after dinner. I think she enjoyed it.

Anyway, back on track. The whole tax write off thing seemed to get the wheels turning in my husband's head, and this morning he hit me with this:

Jack: We should have another baby.
Emily: Yeah, after SB gets a little older, then we will.
Jack: No I mean like this year. Right now.
Emily: What? Why on earth would we do that?
Jack: Just think, we could do it completely for free! Let's have another baby.
Emily: (brief pause) I just can't think of any good reason not to do it.
Jack: Really?
Emily: Oh wait, except we already have a baby.

I told him the only way I would think about having another kid before SB is 2 would be if Meredith moved home and got pregnant. So our kids could grow up together. So Mere, it's up to you. I'm waiting for you. And Jack is counting on you to get us another tax deduction. No pressure.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Many Happy Returns of the Valentine's Day


We have just returned from a long weekend at the beach. We rented 3 houses and met 8 other couples for three days of beach bumming. It was glorious.

"In February?" you might ask.

Again I say, it was glorious. I don't know why people go to the beach in the summer, when it's 115 degrees and so crowded that you can't even find enough sand to put a towel down. The temperature was in the 70s, and we had a blast laying out, playing horseshoes and introducing SB to the sand.



She had a fabulous time, laying out under her umbrella, throwing her toys into the sand and watching me retrieve them.

This trip was our Valentine's Day gift, and I must say Jack certainly outdid himself this year. Much better than 2005-the year Jack had to work late, forgot Valentine's Day, and I ended up with what was left on the Walgreen's valentine aisle.


A boxer-shaped box of chocolates and a pair of socks.

Anyway, I hope you all had a successful holiday, with lots of chocolate, red roses and a cute boy to kiss. I know I did.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

No money, no problems

Well, our money problems are over.


I've just received news that my brother (in law) has just landed a girl with some serious cash. Apparently, she is heiress to some major fast food moolah.


I've always been very worried about who Rob would marry. Since he and Jack are so close, I'll pretty much have to be best friends with whoever he marries. So I don't want her to be lame or anything.


I haven't met this girl yet, but I've certainly heard of her. I'm only hoping he can hold on to her. I don't even care if she is as boring as my high school science teacher; she's my new BFF.


Don't screw this up, Rob. We're all counting on you to take us to early retirement.



Rob and Wendy

Monday, February 4, 2008

Tagged: I'm it

Even though I've been behind on my blogging, I will still honor the tag that several of you hit me with. Here are some little known facts about Emily:

I am a Michael Bolton fan. I am. I gotta tell you, I celebrate the guy’s entire catalog. For my money, it just doesn’t get any better than when he does “When a Man Loves a Woman.”

When I was little, I loved watching Rescue 911. It was so exciting, but it also gave me nightmares. I will always remember one episode where they were reenacting a B&E. I still have bad dreams about that big, fat man sneaking down the hall with his gun.

My husband is having a love affair. With guitar hero. Someone let him borrow it, and he probably won’t ever give it back. I think he likes it because every time he finishes a song, it tells him that he rocks. He’s always wanted to be a rock star, and in front of that playstation, he is one.

I was in a Rascal Flatts video. No joke. Mere and I went to Memphis for the video shoot of “Here’s to You,” and they ushered us right to the front row. If you slow-mo at just the right second, I’m totally there. My 15 milliseconds of fame. I have it saved on my tivo if you ever want to see.

I had OCD as a child. I would obsessively count EVERYTHING, and the number would always have to be even. It was especially difficult when I was riding in the car, as I would have to count all the letters on all of the road signs. Also, I had to keep everything I did even: if I did something with one hand, I would have to do it with the other. I was a weird kid.

I know you probably believe me when I say I was weird, but in case you need more proof, here goes. My favorite thing to do growing up was to hide in the closet with a book and a flashlight. I would curl up in the corner and read all day. No wonder I had to wear 8” thick glasses.

I also had a pair of awful looking boots that greatly resembled those worn by Granny Clampett in the Beverly Hillbillies. I loved them and wore them every day. When I was angry, I would stomp around the house in them until everyone knew I was mad, and, if approached, I would kick like the devil, which only enhanced the Granny image. When my siblings called me Granny Clampett, it only made things worse, and heaven help anyone who got close enough to feel my wrath.

I have also escaped certain death on several occasions. One instance that comes to mind is when Jack and I, newly married, were at the beach with a bunch of friends. Meredith and I had to run back to our room to get something before we all went out to dinner, so she parked and I ran to the elevator. When it opened, a man got out and I got on. He did a double take of me in my cocktail dress and high heels, obviously seeing me as an easy target, and he turned around and got back on the elevator, staring me up and down with this sick grin on his face. It was night, and there was nobody else in sight. I turned on the rocket boosters and FLEW off that elevator. He followed me off, but I was too fast. I jumped back in the car and forgot about whatever it was that I had to have from our room. Haven't thought about that in years. Good memory.

You can ask Mere about the crazy Mexican man banging on our hotel door in New Orleans at 3 am when we were on our way to Costa Rica. That's another story for another day.

SB is calling, but that was a rather enjoyable trip down memory lane. Perhaps we can do this again soon.