Answers!

So, we are moving the second week of March. I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to plan a get-together. I am really bummed I didn't get to see my Tri-Cities tribe when I came home.

Also, I will gladly post updates when I post new pictures - fair warning, I post new pictures at an incredible rate. Bev is certain that she has never seen so many pictures of one baby. Since there's upwards of 300 and she's only three months old. . .I'm no math major, but that's a lot of pictures!

Your Wish is My Command

Amy requested in no uncertain terms that I get off my lazy ass and get back to my blog. I haven't been doing much lately, other than mommying and getting back into the swing of things with work...except for one odd behavior I've picked up.

I've become...girly.

Truly, disgustingly girly. I do my hair, I wear makeup. I wear shirts with neither cartoon characters nor smartass sayings on them. They all have a collar. I freaked out people at work, who have only mostly seen me in jeans, t-shirts and a belt with a Batman buckle, when I showed up in a blue oxford and dress slacks.

I'm not sure what's gotten into me, but the tomboy in me is both repelled and fascinated. I like the way I feel getting all gussied up. I actually spent a gift card on a curling iron, an implement of torture I swore I'd never, ever use. And then. . .then came the curlers.

I bought myself a set of ionic curlers for my birthday and played with them tonight. The results were painfully feminine; I felt like a pinup girl after. It wasn't bad for my first try doing girly crap with my hair, especially when my hair is in desperate need of a cut and style.

I'm not sure what's happened to me, but at least I look good doing it.

F This.

It's eight below here. I checked the weather on Jake's Wii yesterday and it's warmer in both the South and North poles than it is in Minnesota right now. I'm practically on a friggin' dogsled.

And my flights better not get cancelled to Washington. Everyone say a prayer, because I will seriously flip my shit.

Best Fight Ever.

Matt, as he gets out of the shower: Geri, here's the deal.
Me: What?
Matt: Here's the deal. I filled up the blue dinosaur with water and I left him next to the soap in the shower filled up. The last time I did that, you emptied him out and put him back in the toy caddy with the other squirt toys.
Me: Yes, yes I did. Why do we need a dinosaur filled up with water in the shower?
Matt: Because sometimes there's spiders in the shower and I have to squirt them away!
Me: ....
Matt: And it takes me a really long time to fill him up! I have to cup my hand against my belly and let the water fill up and then let the dinosaur drink the water to fill him up.
Me: I'm...I'm sorry. I'll never empty the dinosaur again.
Matt: Good.

And he pranced off to the bedroom. I never thought I'd hear a logical argument for a grown man to play with a bathtub dinosaur, but I was once again proven wrong by Matthew Bartz.

Sigh.

I hate it when my gut feeling turns out to be right.

Caylee

P.S.

Also, why is Amy the only one subscribed to my cooking blog?! I work and slave all day over that blog and I have two followers in my tiny army! IT'S THE GARLIC, ISN'T IT?!

Seriously. Subscribe. It'll be fun and someday we'll have Crockpot Army t-shirts.

Christmas Present

I'm coming home in December! I hope to see everyone and maybe jet over to Pasco to see those cousins I'm so fond of.

If I don't see you, I guess it can wait until February, when I move home.


Okay, not exactly home. We're moving to Vancouver, and that's a hell of a lot closer than this pit.