Love at First Sight

Hey everyone,
Not sure how I am physically able to type right now. As I watched the video below, I let out some weird noises and then promptly melted into a big pile of mush on the floor. Life in the mush pile isn't so bad, but this baby feeva is unbearable! (Don't get too excited mom, I got races to run)! For now I'll be cradling a cabbage patch doll and watching this video on repeat! My little baby is a baby no more :(

p.s. Sorry about the camerawork. It's not like we graduated with degrees in Journalism or anything!

The Ouch Report

I remember the first time I received an "ouch report" from daycare. Faith was on the receiving end of a bite. To sum it up, I was horrified. What kind of daycare was this? How could they let such debauchery go on? What sort of evil little person tries to take a chunk out of their "friend's" arm? Well, I quickly learned this is very common and that I better not get too offended as someday Faith might be the one administering the pain.

After yet another ouch report last week, I decided to count all my red sheets. (Yes, I have them all in a drawer --have you met my mother? She has every piece of paper I ever thought about scribbling on).

Without further ado, I present to you the highlights of Faith's 11 "ouch reports."

got stuck between a swing seat and the counter -- really, how does this happen?

bite

fat lip -- fell off a turtle seat (you can't make this stuff up!)

bite

"small" scratch -- I'll be the one to determine that, thank you.

bite

scrape --"Faith was running and fell." (got her coordination from her dad)

bite

red mark on her head -- "Faith was running, tripped and hit her head on the wall." (OK, even I laughed at this one).

bite --her friend didn't want to hold her hand during "Ring around the Rosie." (might I suggest a teething ring?)

The call came a couple weeks ago. As per the usual, my heart stops every time my daycare calls me. I tentatively answer and they usually tell me that I need to remember to bring wipes. Well, this time they quickly told me that Faith was fine, but that she had scratched a little boy and it was "pretty bad." They asked if they could clip her nails. I apologized profusely for something I didn't do and gave permission for them to clip her nails. Now I knew how the parents of the biters felt. It was not a good feeling. How could someone who looks so innocent do anything like that?

I'm guessing it was time to show the biters who's boss!

Guest Post: What Not to Wear

In case you missed it, my guest post on Sota is Sexy went up Saturday!

I'm very grateful to Katrina for allowing me to hijack her blog for a day. The post was well-received, with more than 20 likes and quite a few comments, so the moral of the story is: don't be afraid to put yourself out there, even if you're wearing horrible, horrible clothes.

I encourage you to visit Katrina's blog. Today she's writing from her dog's perspective, kinda like how I do my Christmas letters as Faith, so I'm fairly confident we were separated at birth -- only she's two years younger than me. Anyway, please try not to laugh so hard you have to tell people you spilled "water" on your lap while looking at the photos of me in my guest post.

For archiving purposes, I'm posting it below

What Not to Wear
Before I begin, I just want to say thanks to Katrina for the opportunity to guest post on her awesome blog. I found it the day she posted the Epic Pinterest Fail and the next thing you know, two hours of my workday: gone. Call it love at first procrastination, if you will.

I do have a blog of my own called Life as a Lindquist, in which I write about–you guessed it—life with my husband of almost five years, Rob, our almost two-year-old daughter, Faith, and our almost potty trained, 5-pound Maltese dog, Howie.
Here they are:

And here’s the story behind how that picture came to be.
But today I’m not here to talk about them. (You can learn more about my family on another workday). Today I’m here to talk to you about fashion. Or, “what not to wear when you meet your new neighbor.”

I read about Katrina meeting her neighbor, and you think I would’ve learned the importance of first impressions from that, but nooooooo. I just had to be wearing this shirt when I walked outside last Sunday and had no choice but to introduce myself to Alicia.

Dolphins wearing sunglasses. Really, Nicole? You have 342 t-shirts and you picked that one? My husband didn’t fair much better. He was sporting this fine gem as we headed out for our nightly walk.

In case you can’t decipher that oh-so-clever equation, it translates to “The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword” also known as the Thomas Jefferson High School Journalism t-shirt. (My husband is a teacher there). The good news is I wasn’t wearing mine too. The only thing worse than dolphins with sunglasses on an almost 30-year-old woman is matching husband-wife t-shirts.

Following our neighborly encounter, I got to thinking about my history of first impressions. When I moved to a new school in fifth grade, it was my first time picking out what to wear having come from a private, Catholic gradeschool.

I wish my mom would’ve had the heart to tell me that though supporting the Omaha
Henry Doorly Zoo is important, I didn’t need to wear a shirt with this on it...

I do believe I became known as “girl-who-wore-a-frog-shirt-on-the-first-day-of-school” until at least 7th grade. That was when I decided to turn things around…start the school year off right…you know, by sporting an oversized, airbrushed shirt with you-know-who on it.



Not sure what I was thinking there, as I never even liked cartoons all that much. Apparently, I was just drawn in by his giant head?

In preparing for this post, I asked my mom to find the two pictures above. Since she couldn’t find one of them – bless her heart – she decided to make up for it by bringing me 11 pictures in which I was wearing questionable outfits. Thanks, Mom! Now you tell me.

And because Katrina gave me no other stipulations for this guest post other than that I try to be funny…and because I already have no shame….and because my mom went to all the trouble of locating these photos, I give you, “What Not to Wear….Ever”

I wish I’ve would’ve kept this for the sole purpose of an 80s party.

We’re both wondering the same thing: isn’t that a tablecloth?!

You wanna know the worst part about this outfit – I wore it for school pictures.

I once wore this sweater with Mickey Mouse boxer shorts and Mickey Mouse socks when reading a book about -surprise- Mickey Mouse, at a nursing home.

I was way ahead of my time with Mom jeans in 8th grade.

Another first day of school picture – I’d progressed to Tigger by this point apparently.

Hope you all had a good laugh at my expense. I know I did. Who wants to make me feel better/themselves feel worse and share some “what not to wear” photos? Or you could just nominate me for that show…on one condition…I get to keep my dolphins shirt.

If it weren't for Dads

Before Faith, Rob couldn't hold a small child without breaking into a sweat. He would lean way back as if the weight of the baby would topple him forward. Another child's diaper -- yeah, right. It didn't exactly reassure me of his parenting skills, but I just hoped our daughter would bring out the daddy in him.

You know how they say it's different when they're your own. Well, it's completely TRUE. The instant Faith was placed in his arms, fatherhood came naturally to my husband. There was no lean. Just a proud papa willing to change those baby meconium diapers. I distinctly recall him exclaiming, very loudly mind you, how bad one of them was as I attempted to order room service food over the phone at the hospital.

I was just thinking the other day, if it weren't for her dad, Faith would never get to experience so many things in life. Such as:

the joy of Starbucks' banana bread on Saturday morning Target runs

the excitement of being held high on daddy's shoulders or upside down, something mom is too nervous to try

a love of music from an actual musician

summers home with dad that make the first day of school that much harder on everybody

the silly gene. some of faith's best belly laughs have happened because of something her dad did.

smooth nap/bed times. it was daddy who had the guts to put her to bed without rocking her to sleep so this could happen.

adventure, dad style. we'd never know that faith could do half the things she can do on her own if rob wasn't so great about letting her try.

cubs baseball, or napping through cubs baseball

 

if it weren't for her dad, faith would never wear sweatpants with a sweater.

 And last but not least, if it weren't for her Dad, Faith wouldn't have her very own superhero.

Do you have a "if it weren't for my Dad" memory? Do share. Mine is "if it weren't for my Dad, I wouldn't have the strong faith I have today." I went on a brief church hiatus my freshman year of college, but it was my dad who came to town and took me to a church I would come to call home for the next four years: St. Thomas Aquinas. By far, my favorite church of all time that I still love to attend when we're in town. Thanks, Dad. Love you.

Guest Blogging: Sota' is Sexy

Hey y'all. Short post ahead. Just wanted to let you know I'll be guest blogging for one of my new favorite blogs: 'Sota is Sexy sometime soon.

I'm pretty pumped that Katrina offered up this opportunity. She and I have a lot in common. For starters, we both blog...and we both run...and we both have cute little puppies who love us.

my new e-friend and her dog, Jolie

But Katrina is a lot funnier than I am, and her post titles are more clever. I mean:


Never Trust a Giant Peacock
Sober Up, We're Going to Wal-Mart
Never Flush Versace

How can I compete with that? Truth is, I can't. But that doesn't mean you can leave me for her. Please don't leave me. Oh God, what have I done?

....

I'll tell you what I've done. I've done gone and shared photos like the one below with Katrina, to share with her blog followers. There goes my future run for President.

More to come...

Let's Dance

No, don't call 9-1-1. Despite what may look like someone having a seizure in the videos below, we are just fine. This is what the Lindquists call dancing.

Rob got the game "Everybody Dance" free with the purchase of his new PS3. Why was it free? Well, no one would pay to look this stupid.

What's that, you didn't make it to the gym today? They say laughter burns calories, so about 10 repetitions of these videos and you should have abs of steel in no time.

Poor Faith never stood a chance.