Saturday, March 31, 2012


This week three people asked me why I was breathing so hard over the phone.  I had three options to tell them a.  I’m practicing for a job as a 1-900- PERVERT phone girl. b.  I’m pregnant again  c. The Truth:  I’m massively out of shape.   I can’t actually walk up the steps and talk on the phone or people become concerned that I can’t breath!?!  I can tell you now I was no Heidi Klum when I was pregnant…I took the ‘eat what I  the baby craves and sleep when you can’ approach.  Tonight the boys have left to watch a race, so I allowed Carlee to sleep a little longer this evening.  I completed a 15 minute walk tape and painted my toe nails.  I’ll curse those toe nails during Carlee’s 12, 1, 2, 3, 4 am wake up calls.  I followed up with some high fiber-Vitamin Cookies after my exercise, and they tasted like crap, so I followed that up with an ice cream sandwich.  I am sooo weak!

I almost painted Carlee’s toes, but I was scared I would have polish all over her little feet. Carlee is so cute and sweet, she reminds me of the little baby dolls I played with as a girl; with the exception the Betsy Wetsy part can’t be turned off and she requires insurance.  I admit I once loved to run around my neighborhood and climb trees, but I really enjoyed my baby doll time too!  I would spend hours and hours dressing, rocking, and talking to my dolls.  I was just telling a funny story to some visiting family members the other day that the one doll I really, really, really wanted as a child was the Cabbage Patch Doll.  The Cabbage Patch Doll was a huge HOT item in the 80s.  Of course, they were also pricey.  I didn’t get one as soon as I wanted, I had to wait for a special occasion.  It seemed as if every single one of my girl friends at school had one.  I would gaze longingly at the store looking for a doll like me.  I never really could find one, but that didn’t stop me from wanting a Cabbage Patch Doll.  

Finally the day came, when for my birthday, my sweet granny brought me THE ONE, THE ONLY, MY OWN Cabbage Patch Doll!!!  I was so freaking excited.  I pulled her right out of the box.  She had brown hair, brown eyes, and a yellow dress.  She even came with a birth certificate.  Granny said she looked everywhere to find a doll that looked like me.  She did look like me and I loved her so much.   I named her Stephanie.   One day I even got to take Stephanie to school. If my memory serves me all the girls brought their dolls.  It was then the girls asked me why I owned a black doll.  A black doll!!  What!?!  She isn’t a black doll she is tan like me I told them.  (Needless to say my school in first grade was not rich in diversity.)  The girls tried to make fun of my different colored doll but I would not let them.  I did what any self respecting first grader would do…I told the teacher.  She of course told me to go away.  I held my head high and carried my look a like doll with me proudly!  It makes me laugh to think about it.  I must have envisioned myself a beautiful, multicultural princess when really I just ran around all summer half naked with no sun screen.  And I guess granny thought I was adopted.  I would say I was ahead of my time because even then I knew skin color didn’t make a difference.  But, a few years later my mom bought me another Cabbage Patch Doll and the neighbor Matthew convinced me that there was a REAL Cabbage in it’s head thus the name Cabbage Patch Doll.  Yep, I took a knife to doll #2’s head to see if it was true (its not true).  See you thought I was a sweet girl until that part of the story…but I was also very, very curious.  This story ends with me getting the belt.


I hate to end on a bad note, but I must go care for my real doll.  I sure do miss Stephanie, if I had her Carlee and Connor could have another, more silent,  sister! J

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