If I'd only started blogging in 2nd grade...

Though my blog is fairly new, I have a long history of illustrating stories with pictures of myself.
I found this in a box I was going through of stuff from elementary school:

A few Caveman Camm quotes...

I quickly jotted a few Caveman Camm episodes that have taken place in the last couple of weeks. For those of you who haven't read my other posts on Caveman Camm (or my husband when he sleep-talks) they can be found here and here.

Last weekend I was going to a conference in Canada. I was supposed to print off some handouts before I left but as I was printing them I relized we had no ink. Camm was asleep, but I said out loud, "Oh no! We're out of ink." Camm perked right up and our conversation went like this:

Camm: "No worry, Moll. Canada have socialized printing!"

Me: "Uh, what?"

Camm: "Canada have socialized printing!!!"

Me: "Camm, I really don't think that's true."

Camm: "Yes! They have socialized printing."

He was acting adamant.

Me: "OK, dear, whatever you say."

(Photo is a compilation of this and this)

Since graduation, Camm's two student jobs have ended. He has another job lined up that starts in a couple months, but for the time being, I am going to be the only breadwinner around here. Apparently Camm asleep likes that idea. Here's our conversation about an hour after he'd fallen asleep:

Camm: "Moll, me no do stuff."

Me: "OK Camm, just sleep."
Camm: "Me no work. Me no go school."
Me: "That's ok babe."

Camm: "No, Moll. Tomorrow I have new identity."

Me: "Oh yeah, what's that?"

Camm: "Fat Camm!"

Me: "OK, and what does Fat Camm do?"

Camm: "He no shower. He no shave. He just sleep. He eat junk food. He drive everywhere. He wear Velcro shoes."

The Velcro shoes were the part that really got to me. I tried to stifle my laugh so as to not offend the tender-hearted Caveman-Camm.

Get ready guys! The future Caveman Camm with his new identity: FatCamm

One night I was awake and Camm had fallen asleep. Suddenly he bolted alert.

Camm: "Moll, I need to pee."

Me: "OK dear. You know where to go."

Camm: "No! I tired!"

Me: "Camm, don't pee the bed."

Then he started singing (to the tune of this hymn): "Choose the wrong! When the choice is placed before you! Choose the wrong!...."

At this point I didn't even know what to think. What was the wrong that he was planning to choose? Pee in the bed? But before I knew it he was headed for the bathroom. On his way back he came up to me, furrowed his brow and puckered his lips. Apparently that is Caveman Camm's way to say he wants to kiss me. I leaned forward trying to keep a straight face and kissed him. Without a word he was back in bed.

The other night Camm fell asleep on top of our bed with his shoes still on. I tried to slip them off without him noticing.

Camm: "Moll, me sleep tonight. Me like shoes."

Me: "I'm just taking them off."

Camm: "Me no sleep shoes."

And with that he rolled over and fell asleep.

Life never gets old with Caveman Camm around.

graduation TODAY: the master's degrees are finished!

From now on I will happily answer to the name "Master Miriam". My husband will be "Master Camm". 

Close friends and family can shorten it to simply "Master".

45 minutes = 2.5 hours?

Last October my friend Jamie volunteered to babysit for Camm and I to go on a date. Naturally, we were super excited and made plans to go to dinner and then go to a corn maze. We called the maze ahead of time and asked how long it takes, "Most people get through it in about 45 minutes." Perfect! We figured dinner would take about an hour then the corn maze would tack on another hour and told Jamie to expect us back before too long. Little did we know...
Dinner was great.
Corn maze was...well I guess we should have figured it was a MAZE and we're not great navigators if you know what I mean.
Before walking in I asked the lady working again how long it would take. "Everyone gets it done in about 45 minutes." Easy enough...

We entered the maze section like this:

Walking Walking Walking...(45 minutes come and go)

Walking Walking Walking...(1 hour comes and goes)

Walking Walking Walking...(1.5 hours comes and goes)

Walking Walking Walking...(2 hours come and pass. I'm pretty sure hormonal postpartum tears began to flow--and if they didn't I was probably holding them back)

Following Camm closely behind as he helped us get more and more lost I got out my cell phone (which normally I hate for anyone who has read that post, but I admit that sometimes they come in handy). I called the cornmaze people and explained the dramatic situation:

"Its just that I have a little baby who is waiting for us and the babysitter is probably sick of being with her and I have to wake up for work at 6am and and and PLEASE HELP!!!"

"Don't worry ma'am we'll send someone right out. What do you see around you so I can tell them where you are?"

"I see CORN!! All I see is corn!" I then spotted a sign, "Oh, I'm by the 10 sign".

"OK ma'am--someone will be there shortly."

Then we began to WAIT. I was thinking five minutes should do it. I was sure the employees knew this course like the back of their hands.

5 minutes came and went.

10 minutes came and went.

15 minutes came and I called back.

"DID YOU FORGET ABOUT ME? WHERE IS THIS WORKER?"

"Oh, he's actually lost in the maze. If you don't mind, could you start shouting out to him so he can hear you?"

I hung up.

"HELLO!! SAVE ME!! I began to call."

20 minutes came and passed.

25 minutes came and passed.

FINALLY, after 30 minutes we found a hurried employee.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, its a good maze, I got lost.," I can't help but notice the map in his hands. and he got lost?

Luckily we quickly found our way out and made it back to our baby.

Poor Jamie.

Let's just say if you ever want someone to help you navigate, I suggest steering clear of our family.

PS--if you like my blog, please click here. The website counts how many people get to their website from mine and tallies it as a vote. I'm trying to become rich and famous so please feel free to vote for me every day (you can click the brown banner on the right side of the page that says "Top Mommy Blogs" and that will vote for me). They let everyone do a vote once a day. So feel free to VOTE VOTE VOTE!

Guest blogger: Ruby

On Friday after I got done with work, Camm and Ruby picked me up. When I got in the car, Camm hadn't showered, Ruby was still in her pajamas and the trunk was full of new toys. What a day! Here's Ruby's side of the story:


Hi everybody! My name is Ruby. I am 10 months old. And I have the best daddy in the whole world.


Every Friday Mommy has to work all day. She says she misses me SOOOOO much when she goes. Just between you and me: I don't miss her at all. Why? Because I get to stay home and play with Daddy all day. 


Last Thursday night Mommy had put me in my Christmas polka-dot jammies. She said no one would see me since I was just sleeping in them. But I like them. I wanted to show them off. When Daddy told me I could wear them ALL day on Friday, I couldn't have been more happy:

Then Daddy took me to Toys R Us. Have you ever been to that store? He got me all kinds of stuff. I'm such a big girl now:

Daddy got me a push-walker thing that I can push all over the house. Can you believe how big I am?

It even folds into a sweet car. Daddy and I had to settle on this car because Mommy says I am not allowed to drive a real car until I'm 16. But I still think this one is still pretty cool.

I even got a princess castle. You know Daddy says I am his princess. Isn't it pretty? Daddy says I'm pretty. I even know how to crawl through that tube.

I have the best Daddy in the world. How could I be any more lucky?!

Monopoly contention

I just came across a picture I did long before I ever started this blog. I had obviously just won a game of monopoly and as such I decided to send camm a love-letter:

Passport pics

3 Passports=3 Worst pictures that have ever been taken of me

The first time I got a passport I was in that "tween" stage of life--you know--where you're totally insecure about your self-image. As if being a chubby 12 year old wasn't already bad enough, they had to take a picture from the worst possible angle. I tried to find the picture for you to believe, but couldn't. I guess you'll just have to take my word that it was taken during the ugly years...
I thought then about drawing a picture (you know, my amazing stick figures), but I just can't do it justice. Again, you'll just have to take my word for it that that picture did not help my pre-adolescent self-esteem.

Five years later I was due for another picture. By this time I had at least grown out of the awkward chubby years, but for whatever reason they got a picture of me where I looked like I was on drugs (I swear I wasn't):

Check out those eyes.

A couple weeks ago I decided to get a new passport. The one from age 17 doesn't expire for two more years (when I turn 27) but I found out it costs the same to change your last name as it does to get a whole new passport.
Anyway, I went to Costco with a huge winter scarf and no make up on. I took off my coat, but it never crossed my mind to take off the scarf. I smiled for the picture and the lady said, "Close your mouth! You can smile, but NO TEETH!" I have no idea why she said that, because its not a rule. But alas, I obeyed:

What do I remind you of?

Cross your fingers that in ten years I'll be able to have a normal passport picture!

Anyone else have any bad passport picture stories?

yellow smile :)

Do you remember this from 1997?:

The classic yellow smiley face.

They were everywhere. A friend would come to school and say, "Hey! Check out my new backback!"

or they'd say, "Look at the embroidery on my jeans!"

Indeed, everyone had the super stellar smiley notebook:

Or sometimes they'd say, "Hey, you want a sticker? You can choose whichever one you want." This is what the sticker sheet would look like:

I must confess that I was afraid of the things. They're creepy. They're bright yellow heads with no noses. I mean, since then Voldemort (the darkest of all beings) has been the only thing without a nose. They are scary. Yet they were EVERYWHERE!  I can pretty much sum up my 4th grade experience with this picture:

So now lets fast forward 14 years to 2012. I'm now married and have the cutest baby in the world. Most of her clothes were given to us and I must confess that this is the outfit she wore today (with her favorite toy next to her):

"Happiness is mommy" . . . Don't you think that's a little bit ironic?

Do you think its just a coincidence she's screaming? I'd be scared too.