Yes, well. I'm a liar, aren't I. This isn't regular posting at all! Pathetic! LIAR, LIAR!

Of course, the minute I sit down to do this the dryer starts making that fabulously annoying 'buzzzzz' noise to tell me that it's finished the most recent cycle of not-really-drying-anything-adequately. The last of the 'zzzz' tells me that I'll probably need to set it to run again, if I wasn't kidding about wanting stuff 'dry', as opposed to 'warm, but still a bit soggy'. I wasn't kidding, dryer. Why can't you work better? Why don't you do what I say? Why am I being sass-talked by a freaking dryer?

Still determined to do this blogging thing, but right now I'm being distracted by the always-fabulous Real Estate Intervention. Folks are delusional, yo. Also: I can't believe how much houses cost in some parts of the country. And, conversely, how MUCH house you can buy if you are willing to live somewhere like Georgia or Texas. I'm not, of course, willing to live such places but were I in the market to own a huge McMansion in a sub-division of hot, sticky suburbs in the the South, I'm confident I could find something perfect. Hopefully with beige walls.

See? See what I did there?
I started up one of these not-so-new-fangled weblog thingies and then didn't write anything for months. I KNEW that would happen!
I read so many of these things. So inspired, and enthralled, and jealous of the incredible writing skills of the entries I read every day. "These people are so much funnier than I am. These people have a much bigger vocabulary than I do. These people have a far better grasp of basic punctuation and grammar than I do. These people amaze me every day with how their clever, funny words have allowed them to make some sort of a living for themselves and their families and there's no WAY I should even bother trying to compete with this.'
This is your brain on insecurity.

I've been talking myself out of doing things my whole life. Team sports, enjoying video games with friends/partners/whomever, adventurous cooking and baking, adventurous much of anything else, regular exercise etc etc. I'm not good at it, instantly, so I've lost interest and talked myself out of ever being interested in it in the first place. Safer that way. Less chance to embarass myself or risk rejection or, even worse, risk looking even a tiny bit silly in front of other people in a way that's beyond my control. Being the 'funny girl'? That's alright. I control that. I work pretty hard for that, actually. But being the cute, skinny girl? no. Being the sporty, athletic girl? no. Being the [insert skill I do not naturally posess skill here] girl? Probably not.
So what to do? I feel as though writing is something I'm decent at. People tell me I should have a blog. They enjoy my writing. We'll see, I guess. I'm not telling anyone about this thing. Maybe my super-hot-huz (SHH), eventually. Maybe not. He's got more than enough talents of his own brewing away to worry about this silly thing.

Might be theraputic though. Putting the words down, and not sending them to anyone specific? We'll see. I'll do better at this. More regularly at this. I think I need to.

The weather outside...

It's white out there. Very white. Very white, and very cold.
Every day, I'm torn between loading Ruby up into the car seat, tucking in the blanket, putting on the hat and hoodie and all the rest of it and getting her all rugged up before we go outside OR just carrying her on my hip and the car seat separately and loading her up once we're in the car. On the one hand, I know she's much snugger and warmer if I use the former method. On the other hand, that car seat, with her in it, weighs a freakin' ton and I'm worried about popping a hernia heaving her around in that thing lately.
I always thought that my super-Mum arm strength would just increase as the weight of the 'rig' increased with her in it but that hasn't happened. Instead, one day, I attempted to pick the whole shebang up with my left arm and nearly fell over on top of her trying to get some air between the floor and the bottom of the car seat. Good LORD that thing is heavy. I either need to bulk up or figure out a new system, clearly.

In other news: she's sprouted a second tooth over the past weekend, and it was a little rough for all involved. Sleeping and napping for crap, whiney and grizzly and generally fussy and out of sorts (and then there was the baby! hey-oh!). Poor kid. Last night was better, so we might have made it though the worst of it. She'll get to spend tomorrow hanging out at home with her Grandma Garn, so perhaps some time away from the daycare (and screaming daycare kids) will help calm her down to her normal lovely self? I'm still not in love with this daycare either, which bothers me constantly like a low-grade fever about which I feel compelled to do very little other than 'keep an eye on it' for right now.

Here's a picture I stole from Tyler's Flickr page, from the 6-month shoot. She's seven months old next Wednesday! Good grief!

6 month old ham

We took some photos of Ruby this past weekend for her official, unofficial '6 months old' pictures. She's hard to photograph these days because sitting still isn't really her forte, and the minute I'd take my hands off her she'd make a break for it and crawl herself head-first off the platform we were on and into the floor 4 inches below. It worried us more than it did her. She is, as it turns out, a huge ham. She's smiling in nearly all the pictures we took, and handled the lights and everything else like a complete champ.


In a few of the pictures it's possible to see the TOOF, which she has also handled like a champ. Every day I marvel at how lucky we got with this kid, the most laid-back, happy little baby I've ever known.


Super-cute little dress is courtesy of a work friend of mine, and Sophie La Giraffe is courtesy of my dear cousin Sarah. Sophie comes highly recommended, and Ruby couldn't agree more. She is, how you say, a Le Fan.

Everything but the kitchen sink

Since she's sitting up so well these days (our super advanced little wonderbaby), we've ditched the baby tub and have been doing bath time in the kitchen sink for the past several weeks. It works great! She's discovered the joys of splashing, and the collateral damage and soakenings are greatly reduced in the deeper basin. I bought some stick-on frogs to keep the sliding around to a minimum, but they don't work for shit, so we keep a hand on her at all times - but she really has a fun time in there. It's a bit hard on the back for us, but Ruby doesn't seem to mind all that.

Light-up mini rubber duckies courtesy of Grandma Garn. All Ruby wants to do is catch them, and stick their heads in her mouth.

It's about time.

Alright, alright. It's time. I know.

Here it is. The blog for the Fisher Garn family. Stay tuned for posts filled with witty content, heart-warming stories and, of course, adorable baby pictures. Let's get this party started!