A Bully In The Making

Charlie LOVES older kids. But one in particular. Her best friend? The cute little/big 2 year old upstairs, Madilyn. If they're not home, Charlie will cry. If she hears Madilyn screaming upstairs, she bolts for the door. If Madilyn says, "Chowly, come pay!", Charlie run-crawls after her.

I mean, look at them. They love each other.

They help each other out...

They clean together...

(if you couldn't tell, that's a swiffer in Madilyn's hand. She gave Charlie

the cool red broom.)

They admire themselves together...

And after all their fun, Charlie pulls her hair.

This is definitely my favorite picture of all time. I know that's a bold statement... But while Madilyn thinks her life is over, Charlie is soo... content.

Kids, watch your weaves.

He's not a He. She's a She.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have prayed to have a boy first... I guess this is what I get for that... And, honestly, I understood the first few times even though she was wearing purple because, hey, newborns are funny looking. But now that she’s 9 months, it’s getting old.

Here’s a few stories of people who insist on calling my daughter my son:

1. A few weeks ago I dressed Charlie in a hot pink shirt and leopard print pants and I made my way to the bank. These boys were sticking their fingers in Charlie’s mouth while their mom was right next to me with the other teller. Instead of telling them to stop, she commented on how cute he was and wanted to know how old he was. Do I look like the kind of mother who would dress her son like that? Apparently so. Anyways, I kindly said that “She is almost 9 months old.” Then she looked at me incredulously and replied, “This is a girl?!”

2. That same day I went to the mall. (Big day for me!) THREE different people commented on how cute HE was. I let it go the time they asked what HIS name was and I replied, “Charlie.” I guess there was no going back there.

3. My Grandma always thinks she’s a boy -no matter what she's wearing or how many times we tell her that she's a she. She also has Alzheimer's.

4. At church the other Sunday, I saw an old friend that I hadn’t seen in years. We got chatting and I was holding Charlie (who was dressed church appropriately in a cute frilly dress). But no, he asked what his name was. People can always see past our girly façade...

5. This week it was Matt that got to experience what I always seem to. They had just mentioned to him that we had a cute son... When he got home that night, Matt told me the sad story. This followed:

Me- We should’ve gotten her ear’s pierced before...then they all would’ve known she was a girl.

Matt- No. They’d just think she was an early-rebellious son.

Dang it.

Headbands are now mandatory.

I'm In Love... And It Hurts.

I really felt the need to blog about this. Yes, I have a cute daughter and a wonderful family... but this is going to kill me.

Guys... Girls... I don't know what to do. As you may well know, Christmas is like fifty days away, or something like that. So what's on my mind? Buying presents for loved ones? No. Boots!

bootsbootsbootsbootsbootsboots

No word of a lie, I've looked at over 3000 boots tonight! Zappos told me so. And that doesn't include the 7 other websites I thoroughly scrutinized. (Check out lavintage.com! So cool.) And why am I looking at SO many boots? I'll tell you why: This boot that I love is just too darn good for me and I don't feel I deserve it (or that I don't want to have to pay above and beyond my own Christmas gift limit) ...so I'm looking for one in my league. Which I can't find. Woe be my life.

It just teases me by saying, "Look at my gorgeous, buttery leather. My soul (or sole -whatever) molds to your beautiful foot. I could go with ANYTHING!" And then adds, while smirking, "But I'm too exorbitant for you." Oh Frye Melissa Riding Spur -you torture me.

Here. Look at it mocking me.

So yes. 3000 boots later and I haven't found one that tickles my fancy just as this one does. Or even a little less, to be honest. And I'm not sure what exactly makes me love this one so much above the rest. But something just fits me...and my foot. (I tried it on at Gravity Pope but it jumped $100 there compared to the WWW. Yikes!) I have exactly one week to decide.

What do I do?!?

Trick or Treat!!

I'll be honest... I was hoping for a more eventful Halloween. I mean, we have a kid now... Doesn't that mean we, as parents, get a huge bag of candy to eat for the next few days?? I know she's only 9 months and everything, but she really didn't enjoy it as I had originally hoped. Maybe next year we can stay up past dark?

This is Charlie: The Thoughtful Duck.

She was drugged up on tylenol and had a flu+cold+2 teeth coming in... and her mom wouldn't let her eat full-sized chocolate bars yet... I wouldn't be happy either.

And Matt? He just couldn't give up the mustache from his costume the night previous.

He would have thrived in the 90's.

She wanted to be mustached like her Dad...

I swear she loved it.

My favorite picture of Madilyn from the Trunk or Treat!

Cutest giraffe out there...

I hope everyone had a Happy Halloween!!

Hollywood

Good evening... hggguumm hugghhhmm (Eye just cleared my throat (ps - look how i spelt"I")Goodness, I bet you are all ROTFL-ing.

Anyways, back to my story- this week in institute I was thinking about why we suffer. I was trying to think of everything that had to do with suffering- what is it, what causes it, what rhymes with it, how do we get out of it, etc. I asked myself "Ok Matt... what causes emotional suffering" my out-loud response was "disappointment, hurt feelings" For the most part, i have found that my emotional suffering happens when my expectations are not met. This is where i get passionate and say that hollywood/media is to blame for many hurt feelings in a relationship.

1) I'm not a Vampire

It seems that the only successful relationships these days include a vampire and a vulnerable young girl. These relationships don't struggle with normal things such as finances and raising a family, but instead trying not to drink the other persons blood. Like... me and vampires have a TON in common, I love nights, I have super white-pasty skin, and in the right light after eating a large pizza I have some sparkle to my cheeks. Its hard to c

onvince others that my floppy chest and soft stomach is still developing and one day will be as strong and vibrant as my fellow cannibals.

2) Big Bliss

There is a show that Tarilyn watches called "Say Yes to the Dress." It's a show where a picture-perfect bride and all of her friends go and try on different wedding dresses for their upcoming wedding. Basically the bride tries on a bunch of expensive dresses until she, and her friends, find the "dream" dress. All the girls say "yes" to the dress and the end of the show is a bunch of crying women. Trust me it's a real tear jerker... I'm usually crying before the second commercial is even on. Anyways, one day I came home and Tarilyn was watching the show. I noticed something terribly wrong... the brides had an average build and were not 5'7-100lb girls. I couldn't believe that some of the dresses the consultant had pick out were DOUBLE DIGITS! (trust me im being sarcastic) The best part of this show was that it had a special name... it was called "Say yes to the Dress: Big Bliss." It was sick to me that they had to give the show a special name to accommodate the average-person build. There was not a huge difference in the show besides the wide-angle lenses that prob

ably had to be used and the dresses were

more expensive because more material was used.

What I'm trying to get at here is that the media gives us a false sense of what life should be like. Yes, on the weekend I may only take my wife to dinner and/or a movie and not the southern part of france... i just dont have the money. No, I don't have a six pack or strong peck muscles (they're big but not strong.) No, I don't have a french cut suit with a skinny, un-done tie, rather, I have an english cut, baggy suit with triple pleat pants topped with a fat double-winsor tie. (uggggh talk about soo last year.)

Despite what Hollywood may say, I think that I have an awesome life. I have an amazing wife and a perfect baby that I play with so intensely that she pukes... literally.

Peace Out

Matt

On Second Thought...

Sooo Charlie decided she was big this weekend. She FINALLY decided to crawl like a normal person, and I swear that she's been secretly practicing in her crib. She got up and moved around like it was no big deal. ....then back to her belly. I don't blame her though -she is faster army styles.

Then she did this! It's like she thinks she's one or something... Psshh. (Matt's there because he thought she was walking too fast and got worried. I figured that she'd eventually run into a wall to stop or something (which is kind of how I skate). I really like to let her spread her wings and soar.

Haha! Then karma happens. That's what you get when you get too big for your britches. (I'm turning into my mom. And I'm not even really sure what that saying means. I just know I can say it in this circumstance.) Poor little kid. We only made her stay here until I got the camera out -don't worry. But I was thinking that this could be her "time-out 'stool/stair'" or something. That'll teach her. What do you think??

She's also getting a tooth! YAY! Honestly, it's the best feeling when you see the fruits of their 5 month labour. Now maybe all her toothy friends won't make fun of her.

We went down to Lacombe yesterday to hang out with Granny and Grandpa Burnham! Charlie was good the WHOLE way down (a feat!) thanks to this book. And, she can read. ...at least in her own language. I heard her. Anyways, I won't say this out loud, but I did photoshop the barfy marks on her car seat so I didn't look like such a negligent

mother. I'm getting pretty good, hey?

Well, guys... That's all I've got! ...And there's

wings in the oven... Priorities!

Superstore.

So here we are -blogging. I actually never thought I’d do it... But Matt begged and begged and started one and changed the “my” to “our” in the headline of his previous post. So I guess it’s both of ours? We kind of switch roles every now and then in our marriage. For instance: right now, he’s cooking dinner and I’m sitting here watching TV, belching and scratching my belly. We’re cute that way.

Here’s our little family!! It took us awhile to get cleaned up, but we managed. Thank goodness for photoshop and talented sister-in-laws

hey?

Charlie has been CRAZY lately! She’s just 8 months now and she’s crawling everywhere (Not just any crawl, a legit army crawl. In fact, the General Major of Canada’s army called today inquiring about her future. But it's all shh shh for now.) and climbing stairs and tearing things off the bookshelf, eating books, climbing up the couch onto the counter, counting by two’s and tying her shoes... It’s insane. But she is hilarious! ...Or as hilarious as a girl can

get without the ability to speak.

I tried painting her toe's today. I got her big toe done! And know when I say that, I mean that I painted her entire toe. I was bound to get the nail, right?? Anyways, I didn't get to finish. What daughter doesn't want matching toe nail polish as her mom?? She's nuts.

I’m not sure what else to write. I went to superstore today and they didn’t have the lights I wanted... Is that cool to blog about?

The Beginning of Our Blog

Well... I have began a blog, and you are all probably sitting in your rolly chairs thinking that this is Tarilyn typing. Nope, guess again... it's tender Matt and he is going to pour out his most special feelings. Like I always say "Love is caring for the ones you love......." awwwwwwwww

I have started this blog because Charlie and Tarilyn are just doing the CUTEST things. Like today, Tarilyn was sleeping and when she woke up she cleared the "sleepies" from her eyes and said in the cutest voice, "what time is it?"..... AWWWWWW how special is that?

Im kidding, but Charlie really is getting cuter and cuter and we hope that this blog shows a glimpse of how cute she is and will also give you an update of what we Burnhams are up to. Today I took Charlie into nursery because i was starving and needed "snack time." I was playing basketball with the "senior" nursery and looked over at Charlie. Charlie LOVES other kids. Any kid two years or older can make Charlie laugh soooooo hard. When Charlie gets excited she feels she has to reciprocate her love by squeezing their face/hand/dress/nose/whatever. Anyways, in nursery i looked over at Charlie to see her smiling ear to ear pulling with all her might. She was sooooo excited to see her friend that she pinned her down and was ripping out her hair. The two year old was screaming "ouch ouch ouch" and Charlie thought that meant "keep going this is fun." Walking to the rescue I was a little confused- was I suppose to discipline a misunderstood infant to prove to the witnessing adults that that I was no pushover father. I did what most fathers have done and spanked Charlie. Dont worry though, I used the tender phrase "please know that this hurts me a lot more than it hurts you." To be honest, my hand didnt hurt that bad after so I dont know what my dad was talking about all those years.

I really am such a proud husband and father. I am embarrassed to say that I am kind of a nervous dad. I always wanted to be one of those "oh they will be fine" kind of parents, but it seems every time Charlie flinches my goalie reflexes kick in and i try to save her.

All in all, we are so blessed. I am in my 3rd year of business and Tarilyn does hair out of home and is busy full time with our little monster. Charlie is soooo cute and we love her to pieces. We cant help but squeeze her cute thighs and pinch her droopy cheeks. I really hope that when she is older she doesnt do this to kids to express their love to them... AWKWARD! Tarilyn is busy teaching kids in the primary, and I just got called to teach early morning seminary. We have such a good life!

Peace out