Spoiled but not rotten...yet

I am jealous of my baby. She has everything a baby could ever want or need, and so many things that a baby could never imagine wanting or needing, like a down puffy vest with a fur hood, or 100 headbands. Friends and family members come out of the woodworks for her, thinking about her when they're at DisneyWorld, WalMart, Costco, or just when they have a few hours and some extra yarn.  All they expect from her is maybe a smile in return. She's spoon fed food made especially for her, she has her own bank account that multiple people contribute to (!!), people spend all day trying to make her smile and laugh, and her fat rolls are still considered cute. Oh what a life.


You can't see it here, but she's being fanned by oversized leaves

The Force is strong in this one. I knew it before she was born when a State Trooper pulled me over and then quickly let me go with just a warning. She charms people everywhere she goes. She batted her eyes at a fat man at the mall and melted his heart. Old people go bananas for her. Taking her out in public is always an adventure. I just received a package from my aunt with a ton of clothes in her next size up. How great is that?! It included many fleece footie pajamas for Trinity, and one pair for me! We can be twins now! Travis said I should be glad I'm already married. Apparently footed pajamas aren't sexy. Whatevs, I think I rock 'em well. Thanks Auntie!!

Total creeper

Nothing else too new is happening. This is a delightful age though. She's smiling and happy and babbling all the time. She'll grab your face and give you big open-mouthed, slobbery kisses on the cheek, which only a mother could love. And she has a tooth! The bottom right one came in, and it is sharp as hell. If I were still breastfeeding, I would be stopping now. I can already tell it's a little crooked. Time to start saving for braces. She still doesn't crawl, which is a source of worry for Travis, who needs to blame someone for her lack of coordination (everyone but himself). She has no motivation to move. When she learned to roll, she would roll all over the house, but now that novelty has worn off and she's content to just lay or sit on her blanket and talk to her toys. I've come to terms with it. I hope she holds off on the crawling until after Christmas, so I don't have to worry about the tree tipping over, or her being burned by the fireplace.

If you look closely, you can see her little white tooth on the bottom

Oh wait, I lied. Something is new. She got her ears pierced!! And they look adorable if I may say so myself. Before you get all judgy, saying "what if she doesn't want to wear earrings?" please know that I don't care. When she gets old enough to decide, she can take them out if she doesn't want them. All I did was give her the choice without any memory of the pain. She cried for two seconds, and then drank her bottle and went on with her day. I've always worn earrings, so I suspect she'll just do the same. And now no one asks (or assumes) her gender. I'm saving another innocent, well-meaning lady at Costco from getting an earful from Travis when she, for reasons unknown, assumed that our baby in her black and pink car seat, covered by a pink blanket, wearing a sunflower headband, was a boy. She'll never make that mistake again.


Shot of her pretty earrings

In other news, I am still the Absentminded Professor. The whole "pregnancy brain" thing does not go away after having the baby. I forget everything. I probably suck at my job now, which involves very detail-oriented tasks. I lost a bag of frozen green beans. It's been a week and there's no sight of it. For now I'm blaming it on the dog, because who loses green beans? I need to get it together. I'm also giving up on being out after 7 p.m. It just doesn't work. Baby needs her bath and bottle and bedtime or else no one is happy. If we try to veer off her schedule, she notices and promptly becomes Whiney McWhinepants to show her dissaproval. This is saving us money, because we very rarely go out to dinner anymore. I have a feeling this will make Halloween very interesting...

So thank you to everyone who has contributed positively to her life so far. And thanks for loving her almost as much as  I  we do. We couldn't do it without you.

Sweatpants Purgatory

I love me some sweatpants. Never before have I had such strong feelings for an article of clothing. It started when I was pregnant and nothing fit or looked decent anymore, so I figured, 'whatevs I'm just gonna wear sweats. My big pregnant ass is going to embrace the frumpiness that society allows a woman who's expecting.' And I did. My mom bought me a new pair for Christmas, and I never looked back.

To think of the days BB (Before Baby) when I would come home and wear my work clothes until it was time to go to bed and put on pajamas, seems like ages ago! BB, I had one, maybe two pairs of sweats, and I rarely had a reason to wear them. NEVER would I be seen in public with them. Now, it's the first thing I do after walking through my front door. I'm like that dog on the Beggin' Strips commercial, where he's frantically sniffing around the house looking for bacon. That's me looking for a clean pair of sweats. I get just as excited when I find them too. IT'S SWEATPANTS!! I make up little songs about them...

Sweatpants, sweatpants,

when I put you on

I do a happy dance...

Sing it to the tune of the Spiderman theme song. I no longer go out in public wearing them, but I did for a while right after Baby because my normal clothes still weren't an option and I was so sick of yoga pants. I may never wear yoga pants again. Or eat apples. I ate at least five apples a day when I was pregnant. Now looking at one almost makes me gag. I told Travis that after I lost all my baby weight I was going to buy a new wardrobe. He asked what would happen if I never lost the weight, which made me feel awesome. But of course I informed him that I would still have to buy a new wardrobe because none of my clothes would fit. Alas, the baby weight has been gone for a few months, but when I go to buy new clothes, all I want to buy is sweatpants. I see the skinny jeans and tight sweaters, but oh, my sweet sweet sweatpants, how I long to be in your leg holes. I try to avoid the magnetic pull, but the force is strong. I must say, if you are in the market for a good pair of sweats, go to Aeropostale. There's a chance you'll have to push some middle schoolers out of the way, but you won't be sorry once you pull on that soft cloud of heaven.

You may be feeling sorry for Travis right about now, but I'm telling you, don't. He has taken my affection for sweatpants as a green light to live in basketball shorts and whatever ragedy undershirt his work clothes hid during the day. We are hot. After work it's a quick rush of dinnerbathpajamasbottlebedtime, and then we get some alone adult time, which for us means sitting on the couch like two turds in the grass, watching whatever the DVR has in store for us tonight. Someday we may escape Sweatpants Purgatory, but for now, we're embracing it.

If only they made this in my size...