Please pardon my absence. I'm taking a little break from blogging right now. Its turning into quite a busy summer and I'm finding I simply need a tiny internet-vacation.

I'll be back soon!

<3

Bean is big. I mean, I knew it'd happen someday, but when I look at her I see a real kid. 16 months old today, and as of this week she's saying lots of things clearly enough for me to understand them. The talking has come slower than I expected, but this being my first real experience with a baby, who am I to know?

Her favorite word is "outside" and she likes to say "hi" to things. "hi cat / dog / mom / dad / yaya (grandma)"

She claps every time she passes gas, she dances every time she hears music, and she growls every time she sees a dinosaur or a goat (?).

Last week she pottied on her own for the first time, and is getting really excited about using her potty. She sits and sits, usually with no results, but she "reads" lots of books and runs around naked plenty.

She knows 25-30 signs and uses them often. Her favorites are milk, eat, play, and done.


I don't know that you guys are nearly as interested in all of this as I am, but its good stuff to keep track of, I suppose!

Dear members of the Gerlaugh household, or psychic friends,

Why is there a meatball on the bathroom floor?

Puzzled,
Mama

P.S. Yes, I'm sure its a meatball.
P.P.S. No, I didn't put it there.

(I know, I know, another Kurt Halsey, but I just really love his work.)

Today is a historically yucky day for me. I've had a harder time than usual this year, I'm going to blame it on a mix of hormones and marriage stress.

7 years ago today was the worst day of my life. I was 16 years old. I was concerned primarily with boys, music, summertime, and my best girl friends. I spent most of my time online, at church, or hanging out with my little sister. Life was definitely good.

On June 27, 2001, I was raped. The investigation and many examinations that followed were possibly even more damaging than the attack itself, proving to me only that things were never as they seemed. My trust shattered, my body mangled, and my soul torn apart, I slept for the rest of the summer.

When I was told that I was most likely unable to have children, due to an infection of the uterus I (probably) contracted at the hospital following the attack, I realized something I never even knew I wanted was taken from me that night. It was the hardest thing I'd ever faced. I had always said I didn't want to have kids, that it just wasn't for me, but faced with the fact that it might not ever be an option was more than I could even process. It was too soon to tell for sure, they said, and that was that.

The boys that attacked me live and work in my town, they have families and jobs, normal lives, and I'm positive that this day means nothing to them. This day means so much to me, though...

As I stand next to my daughter's crib and watch her sleep I think about how lucky I am to have her. There's nothing like watching her there, peaceful as can be, with her beautiful brown hair and her dirty little fingernails... she's a tiny miracle, something that was absolutely supposed to happen. She came into my life when she wasn't supposed to even be a possibility, and she's a constant reminder that I'm so much stronger than even I give myself credit for.

Its a hard day, and I have come to accept that over the years, but its also such an important day, one that, in a lot of ways, shaped who I am today. Its taught me so many important lessons, and its given me an amazing sense of appreciation I'm not sure I'd find otherwise. In a way I'm thankful for this experience, for reminding me that every second of being Marti Pearl's mom is so precious.

Its been quite a while since I've posted, which is unusual I know...

I've been thinking about some very important things, thoughts that I'm sure just about all of us face at some point... about how much information I should be sharing about myself, my family, the things that are important to me, online. My blog is a public forum, and I don't want to censor any part of my life, but there are some things I don't really want the world to know about, and walking that fine line is something I haven't completely figured out just yet.

That's why I decided not to post for a while. You see, the past month has been one that I'm not proud of... Husband-pants and I have had a really rough go of things here lately, and its been bad news bears. Now I of course know that every marriage has its ups and downs, but we had a big down. A monumental fall, if you will, and its taken a little while to recover. The good news of all of this is that we have, in fact, decided to recover. We're taking some small steps in the right direction, and that's that.

Marriage just isn't what it used to be, we joke, but really, we haven't got the foggiest of what marriage is, or was. We both grew up in single-parent households, raised by very head strong mothers and no constant father figure. We never saw healthy interactions between a husband and wife with the exception of our grandparents and great-grandparents, who were (are) married for an exceptionally long time and have very healthy relationships. We've been striving for that, but we've gotten a little lost along the way. Its easy to do when you haven't got much to go off of...

Its amazing to me how easy it seems to just throw in the towel, how quick we are to assume that problems are just too big to fix. Marriage is hard, but its worth it. Things are definitely looking up right now, and we're both working on keeping it that way.

I promise not to be such a stranger from now on.

Have you ever overheard someone talking about someone you know, and suddenly felt sneaky for listening, but wanting to make sure they've got it all right? You know, the chick talking to her friend in the Target checkout line, mentioning a girl you went to high school with... you immediately tune in, its instinctual I think.

That's how I feel when people talk about the Duggars.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying we're BFF, but I live in the same area as the Duggar family. I pass by their house weekly and see their numerous children playing in the yard, we run into them around town from time to time, and before all of the Discovery channel specials, the talk shows, they were just local people that got a lot of attention... and rightfully so, they have a ridiculous amount of children!

I remember seeing them out as a family for the first time when I was in high school. I was immediately put off. I was, at that young age, so certain I wouldn't EVER have children... good lord- they're messy and demanding, and they sure do take a lot of work... not for me. The thought of having tons of children seemed crazy. Plum nuts. So for a lot of years I thought of the Duggars as crazy people. Not just slightly insane, but totally and completely off of their rockers. Really, I still think they're nuts, but not for the same reason.

I think anyone with kids, or a kid, or hell, some of you with very demanding dogs, will agree that when you give so much of yourself to one person that you're bound to go a little nuts... I know I have. I've spent the last 14 months trying to figure out where most of my sanity went, and you know, I still don't think I have a full grasp on it yet, but I'm sorting it out. I think that after 17 kids, there's bound to be part of your brain that has just totally shortened out... the part linked to reproduction, perhaps? I mean, not that I'm saying they're nuts for continuing to have kids, but maybe she's crazy in the sense that this woman, after birthing 17 children, after caring for them all day, still wants to have sex with her husband!? She's got. to be. insane... either that or her sex drive is something for the record books. Either way, I don't think its a bad thing.

Again, I'm not knocking the Duggars, I don't want anyone to think I am... I think in some way they've got to know they're a little crazy. There have got to be days where they have that fleeting thought of "why did we ever think this was a good idea?" while in their minds they're sipping something with an umbrella on a nice little beach instead of folding 2 metric tons of laundry and homeschooling a gaggle of little ones... you can't tell me there aren't! I get it that they're so thankful for their children, and I totally understand, I'm just as thankful for Bean-girl, but there are times when I want to run. completely. away. You've got to know that Michelle Duggar feels that inside sometimes, and I sincerely hope she's able to... you know?

So this morning when I found out she announced that yes, Duggar baby #18 is on the way! I decided to tell you guys the truth about the Duggar family from someone who has really seen them... not just Discovery channel seen them, like grocery store seen them. I want everyone to know that I think these people are nuts, but they're happy nuts! They're good people. They really are... they're raising their kids in a way that makes them happy, and their kids seem happy enough with it too... plus, they're getting a little taste of stardom, which is cool for them I'm sure. Again, I know I keep going back to this, but she's still jumping on Jimbo- and pretty frequently, I'd assume!

I've been married long enough to know that sex isn't what it used to be... I mean, quality has improved in a big way throughout these years, but quantity... eh. I just get wrapped into so many things that the last thing on my mind as I climb in to bed at night is getting frisky. Maybe that's wrong, I don't know, but I just don't go as wild for it as I used to! There's something about having a 20lb toddler on your hip all day that makes sex feel miles and miles away. Multiply that by 16, and make them old enough to have actual issues past "I pooped myself" and good lord... I just don't know how she does it! I admire Michelle Duggar for still getting in the mood! I really do.

I know it'd probably get more attention if I was like "OMG the Duggars are AWFUL they're scarring their kids for life!" but really, I can't say it... She really looks happy. She's not parading around for the cameras putting on some front... she really looks that happy all the time. Truly, I think she is happy, and that's awesome. I can't knock a woman for being excited about being a mom. I honestly believe that if you're crazy in a way that makes you super happy, a great mom, and you're still getting laid, then dude, keep that crazy flowing!


I will say though, Michelle... you and I need to be making a hair appointment. Seriously, I promise I'll make sure they don't do anything crazy to you, and I'll be great moral support... hey, I'll even watch a kid or 12 for you, but let's bring you up to speed. 1987 was great, really, but let it go. Ol Jimbo might even really like the change of pace... and it'd be a nice pregnant pick-me-up... a new look would do you some good! Plus, you can get a cute little cut and donate all of that hair to Locks of Love! Seriously, girl- call me.

My great grandmother's 101st birthday is next week. 101 years is a really long time for anyone to be alive... I mean, really. Especially these days! I mean, back in the day people lived to be nearly 1000, but nowadays it just doesn't go like that... its just not the same world, but I digress.

My great grandmother, Honey, as I've always called her, has lived an extraordinarily long time. She's seen and done some awesome things in her time, some of which I'm sure none of us will ever know about. I'm pretty certain that over the course of an entire century you can get yourself into all sorts of fun trouble, and I sincerely hope that she did. Her actual name is Pearl, but my great grandfather called her "honey" as a term of endearment, and it stuck with the grandkids, so my mom and her brothers, and all of their kids, have always just called her that. I'd like to think its really a pretty fitting name, as she's a sweet old gal.

A few years ago we went to see her at her little house, a cute place on a shady street in a small Arkansas farming town... she sat us down in her den, the room I remembered as my great grandfather's, where pipe smoke lingered and fun little wooden peg-toys were tucked away for great grandkids such as myself... we sat with her and looked at pictures, and for the first time I saw her as she was at my age. Pictures of her, rather plain looking and small, so deeply in love with my great grandfather... pictures of her as a young mother, looking as scared yet strong as we all tend to look at that point... I was amazed.

I saw where her sauciness originated, where all of the ladies in my family have gotten it from... this is a woman who truly knew herself. I've never in my life heard of a woman like my Honey. She's been an avid garage saler since I've been around, and has always attended church on Sunday. She killed a snake at the age of 99 in the assisted living facility she lived in, by simply stepping on it. She's broken her hip more times than I can keep up with by doing things women in their late 90's should most definitely not be doing... washing windows, salsa dancing, chasing lawn boys... ok, I don't know for sure about the last two, but knowing her its entirely possible. She's never been afraid to live her life, and frankly, she's done it well for a very long time.

When I got pregnant we fought with names for quite a while... if we had a boy, we were planning on the name Avery Lee, a family name... combining both sides, but we couldn't think of a girl's name to save our lives. It was on a trip to see my great grandmother, the trip that we made specifically to tell her that we were pregnant (we were nervous as hell and couldn't seem to make that phone call) that we decided on a girl name... again combining both family names. Our daughter's middle name is Pearl. Since Bean-girl goes by both her first and middle name (think Southern and say it fast: like "Peggy Sue" or "Hannah Jo") we say and hear that name often. For the rest of her days, our daughter will carry her great-great grandmother with her, and that makes me so happy.

Honey died this afternoon, one week before her 101st birthday. This time last year I had a newborn but that didn't stop us from traveling across the state to see her for her 100th birthday bash. We took her a remote control car (for terrorizing the other assisted living facility residents) and some blackberry wine (like her daddy used to make) and a great great grand-baby that she enjoyed immensely, dare I say more than the car, wine, and birthday party. The sparkle in her eye when she held her is enough to bring tears to mine as I write this... I know I'll always remember it, and I hope Bean-girl will too. Rest in peace, honey... we miss you already.