9 Months!

I can't believe Laura has been with us for 9 whole months. She has now been outside just as long as she was inside - and we have loved every minute! Laura is full of beans, getting into everything, and even standing unassisted for a few seconds at a time. She's a better dancer than either her mommy or daddy, which isn't hard! She loves her puppy and couldn't be a happier baby.

9 Months!

I can't believe Laura has been with us for 9 whole months. She has now been outside just as long as she was inside - and we have loved every minute! Laura is full of beans, getting into everything, and even standing unassisted for a few seconds at a time. She's a better dancer than either her mommy or daddy, which isn't hard! She loves her puppy and couldn't be a happier baby.

Breath of Fresh Air

Today has been wonderful.  Truly, absolutely wonderful.  I needed a day like today.  I made my favorite train, and got a window seat.  The training that was supposed to last till Noon let out at 11.  I went to lunch with friends - and sat outside in the gorgeous 70* sunny weather.  I went on a field trip to the National Museum of Natural History.  And then I walked slowly back to work, soaking up every minute of sun and fresh air.

I needed today.

Breath of Fresh Air

Today has been wonderful.  Truly, absolutely wonderful.  I needed a day like today.  I made my favorite train, and got a window seat.  The training that was supposed to last till Noon let out at 11.  I went to lunch with friends - and sat outside in the gorgeous 70* sunny weather.  I went on a field trip to the National Museum of Natural History.  And then I walked slowly back to work, soaking up every minute of sun and fresh air.

I needed today.

Decorating: I needz it

Help!  Oh fellow adults out there on the interwebs!  My house is a veritable batchelor pad.  Possibly worse.  I go through phases where I don't care, beacuse it's just a sofa.  But that is NOT the phase I am in now.

Right now, I am in the "Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed!" phase.  And just like my house, it ain't pretty.

Let's start with the entry.  It's mother-F'ing crayola BLUE.  A shit ton of blue.  Like, a can of blue paint threw up on my walls.  And that's about as well as the paint is applied too.  Hubby (ahem) loves the color, because it's "bright."  Oh.  It's bright alright!  Furthermore, we will need to hire professional painters with fancy stair-friendly ladders to fix the disaster.  Pay money AND change the color?  Hubby won't be happy.

There's not much that we can do to the kitchen without completely renovating the space.  So we'll skip that diatribe.  And the dining room is actually sort of grown-up looking and furnished and stuff.

So that brings us into the family room.  The family room from hell.  I LOVE the color of the walls, and this was our best paint job yet.  But that's where it ends.  Is that a forest green, leather, recliner couch with a chunk of it missing from when Girly ate it 5 years ago?  Why yes!  Yes it is!  And a 62" rear projection TV that takes up half the room?  With bobble-heads for decorations?!  Correct again!  And what a lovely pine green area rug from Home Depot!  

And if you are about to question the difference between forest and pine greens?  Buy a big box of Crayolas and check them out.  They are VERY different.  And do not match in the least.

I don't even know where to begin.  How do grown-ups do it??

Decorating: I needz it

Help!  Oh fellow adults out there on the interwebs!  My house is a veritable batchelor pad.  Possibly worse.  I go through phases where I don't care, beacuse it's just a sofa.  But that is NOT the phase I am in now.

Right now, I am in the "Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed!" phase.  And just like my house, it ain't pretty.

Let's start with the entry.  It's mother-F'ing crayola BLUE.  A shit ton of blue.  Like, a can of blue paint threw up on my walls.  And that's about as well as the paint is applied too.  Hubby (ahem) loves the color, because it's "bright."  Oh.  It's bright alright!  Furthermore, we will need to hire professional painters with fancy stair-friendly ladders to fix the disaster.  Pay money AND change the color?  Hubby won't be happy.

There's not much that we can do to the kitchen without completely renovating the space.  So we'll skip that diatribe.  And the dining room is actually sort of grown-up looking and furnished and stuff.

So that brings us into the family room.  The family room from hell.  I LOVE the color of the walls, and this was our best paint job yet.  But that's where it ends.  Is that a forest green, leather, recliner couch with a chunk of it missing from when Girly ate it 5 years ago?  Why yes!  Yes it is!  And a 62" rear projection TV that takes up half the room?  With bobble-heads for decorations?!  Correct again!  And what a lovely pine green area rug from Home Depot!  

And if you are about to question the difference between forest and pine greens?  Buy a big box of Crayolas and check them out.  They are VERY different.  And do not match in the least.

I don't even know where to begin.  How do grown-ups do it??

I blame the weather

Yeah.

That's a lot of radar action.

And it's been like this for the last few days.  So I'm going to blame this shit weather for my inability to fall asleep at night.  It's not cold at night, but it's not hot.  It's sort of an in-between muggy.  Oppressive. 

I can't blame Laura.  Nope.  That girl has been sleeping like Snow White.  Except she's in a crib, not a glass coffin.  And to my knowledge she's never taken a bite of an apple.  And she only has one dog, not a whole forest of animals helping her clean.  And she doesn't clean.  And she doesn't have dwarves of any kinds.  So I guess Laura has not been sleeping like Snow White after all.  But she has been sleeping really well!

So this incessant rambling of mine?  Also gets blamed on the weather.  Because maybe if I had slept, I would be making a little more sense right now!

I blame the weather

Yeah.

That's a lot of radar action.

And it's been like this for the last few days.  So I'm going to blame this shit weather for my inability to fall asleep at night.  It's not cold at night, but it's not hot.  It's sort of an in-between muggy.  Oppressive. 

I can't blame Laura.  Nope.  That girl has been sleeping like Snow White.  Except she's in a crib, not a glass coffin.  And to my knowledge she's never taken a bite of an apple.  And she only has one dog, not a whole forest of animals helping her clean.  And she doesn't clean.  And she doesn't have dwarves of any kinds.  So I guess Laura has not been sleeping like Snow White after all.  But she has been sleeping really well!

So this incessant rambling of mine?  Also gets blamed on the weather.  Because maybe if I had slept, I would be making a little more sense right now!

One of those days

I am just in such a sleepy haze today!  I'm chilly, thanks to my freezing office, and never took off my jacket when I arrived this morning.  My eyelids are droopy.  My work is mind-numbingly dull. 

Please pass the coffee!  Seriously, someone wake me up!

One of those days

I am just in such a sleepy haze today!  I'm chilly, thanks to my freezing office, and never took off my jacket when I arrived this morning.  My eyelids are droopy.  My work is mind-numbingly dull. 

Please pass the coffee!  Seriously, someone wake me up!

Happy To You!

When my younger brother was a toddler, he would sing the birthday song every time he saw a candle (of any size) being lit.  "Happy to you!  Happy to you!"  It was adorable.  Sometimes my mother would light a candle for him, just to see the joy of singing the birthday song spread across his little face.  And now, whenever I think of birthdays (or candles for that matter), I think of my brother singing that song.

When I was just turning 11, my grandmother turned 65.  We had an enormous birthday party for her.  There were enlarged black and white pictures of her at every age decorating the house.  There was an enormous cake with sixty-five burning candles.  There were balloons.  Lots of balloons.  Grammy was surrounded by family - all of her brothers, sisters and closest friends were in attendence.  That is the way to celebrate!  And now, whenever I think of birthdays, I think of balloons.

For me, birthdays are meant to be surrounded by loved ones, birthday cakes, candles and balloons.  I hope that each of my birthdays will have these most basic components.  But for my 80th birthday?  That birthday will be a blow-out!  It will be in 2064.  Which means I will have survived the Mayan Apocalypse in 2012 by 52 years.  Take that, ancient civilization!  And for my family that might be reading?  Please take note of my wishes for my 80th.

Balloons.  Lots of balloons.  I know that balloons will have been banned by 2064, for killing the whales or whatever.  But I want balloons at my birthday party.  So you'll just have to smuggle them in.

Cake.  Lots of cake.  I know that cake will have been banned by 2064, for causing cancer and diabetes or whatever.  But I want cake at my birthday party.  So you'll just have to smuggle it in.

Candles.  Lots of candles.  I know that candles will have been banned by 2064, for adding to our carbon footprings or whatever.  But I want 80 freaking birthday candles on my illegal cake.  So you'll just have to smuggle them in.

Singing.  Lots of singing.  I hope that singing will not have been banned (yet) by 2064, since it can truly bring people and cultures together.  But if singing has been banned, for causing too much happiness or whatever, I want it anyway.  And if the cops break up our party for singing, and then find the illicit balloons, cake and candles, you can point your fingers at me.  I'll take the blame, and will head off to jail singing "Happy to you!  Happy to you!"

This has been inspired by the Red Writing Hood prompt,

"Describe your 80th birthday party" over at The Red Dress Club.

Happy To You!

When my younger brother was a toddler, he would sing the birthday song every time he saw a candle (of any size) being lit.  "Happy to you!  Happy to you!"  It was adorable.  Sometimes my mother would light a candle for him, just to see the joy of singing the birthday song spread across his little face.  And now, whenever I think of birthdays (or candles for that matter), I think of my brother singing that song.

When I was just turning 11, my grandmother turned 65.  We had an enormous birthday party for her.  There were enlarged black and white pictures of her at every age decorating the house.  There was an enormous cake with sixty-five burning candles.  There were balloons.  Lots of balloons.  Grammy was surrounded by family - all of her brothers, sisters and closest friends were in attendence.  That is the way to celebrate!  And now, whenever I think of birthdays, I think of balloons.

For me, birthdays are meant to be surrounded by loved ones, birthday cakes, candles and balloons.  I hope that each of my birthdays will have these most basic components.  But for my 80th birthday?  That birthday will be a blow-out!  It will be in 2064.  Which means I will have survived the Mayan Apocalypse in 2012 by 52 years.  Take that, ancient civilization!  And for my family that might be reading?  Please take note of my wishes for my 80th.

Balloons.  Lots of balloons.  I know that balloons will have been banned by 2064, for killing the whales or whatever.  But I want balloons at my birthday party.  So you'll just have to smuggle them in.

Cake.  Lots of cake.  I know that cake will have been banned by 2064, for causing cancer and diabetes or whatever.  But I want cake at my birthday party.  So you'll just have to smuggle it in.

Candles.  Lots of candles.  I know that candles will have been banned by 2064, for adding to our carbon footprings or whatever.  But I want 80 freaking birthday candles on my illegal cake.  So you'll just have to smuggle them in.

Singing.  Lots of singing.  I hope that singing will not have been banned (yet) by 2064, since it can truly bring people and cultures together.  But if singing has been banned, for causing too much happiness or whatever, I want it anyway.  And if the cops break up our party for singing, and then find the illicit balloons, cake and candles, you can point your fingers at me.  I'll take the blame, and will head off to jail singing "Happy to you!  Happy to you!"

This has been inspired by the Red Writing Hood prompt,

"Describe your 80th birthday party" over at The Red Dress Club.

Catching Some ZZZZZ's!

Guess who's been sleeping through the night!

Yup!  Laura!  It's been very consistent, so I'm not even worried about jinxing myself here.  Turns out, Little Babe was just cold.  Which makes sense.  I mean, I can't sleep for shit when I'm cold, why should she?  So our new method of dressing Laura in warm jammies with a sleep sack with a thick blankie does just the trick!

Maybe we should turn the heat on?  Eh.

Catching Some ZZZZZ's!

Guess who's been sleeping through the night!

Yup!  Laura!  It's been very consistent, so I'm not even worried about jinxing myself here.  Turns out, Little Babe was just cold.  Which makes sense.  I mean, I can't sleep for shit when I'm cold, why should she?  So our new method of dressing Laura in warm jammies with a sleep sack with a thick blankie does just the trick!

Maybe we should turn the heat on?  Eh.

I believe...

...In Earl Grey tea to warm the soul

...In baby smiles to warm the heart

 

...And in crisp fall days to make life worth warming

I believe...

...In Earl Grey tea to warm the soul

...In baby smiles to warm the heart

 

...And in crisp fall days to make life worth warming

I lied.

A few days ago, I said that I hate Hubby's job.  That's a lie.  I actually really love what Hubby does.  Hubby was forced into a career move in July 2009.  I briefly mentioned it in this blog post, without getting very specific.  Hubby and I both spent a lot of time thinking and discussing the merits of this career move.  And we both decided it was for the best.

And I do not for one second regret the decision we made together.  In the eight and a half years I have known him, I have never seen Hubby this happy.  Hubby's new career is absolutely where he belongs.

With all that said, however, I can honestly say that I had no idea going into this new career how much work it would be for ME!  Honestly, why would I ever think that Hubby's full-time job would also become my full-time job?  I mean, he mentioned something about "basically starting a company" and that we would need to "invest some time and money" in this new company, but somehow that went in one ear and out the other.

What I heard?  Was that Hubby was joining a large, national company with a wonderful history and reputation as one of their agents.

I saw company support.  I saw management opportunities.  I saw a future for us.

And all of this is still true!  It's just a bit of a bumpier road than I had foreseen.  And a lot more work.  Even as I type, I am working on a tedious scanning project for my own job while filling out postcards for Hubby's.  And when I get home, I'll put on my other full-time hat as Mom, while juggling my fourth full-time hat as Wife. 

While all of my jobs come with benefits, only the one comes with a paycheck!

I lied.

A few days ago, I said that I hate Hubby's job.  That's a lie.  I actually really love what Hubby does.  Hubby was forced into a career move in July 2009.  I briefly mentioned it in this blog post, without getting very specific.  Hubby and I both spent a lot of time thinking and discussing the merits of this career move.  And we both decided it was for the best.

And I do not for one second regret the decision we made together.  In the eight and a half years I have known him, I have never seen Hubby this happy.  Hubby's new career is absolutely where he belongs.

With all that said, however, I can honestly say that I had no idea going into this new career how much work it would be for ME!  Honestly, why would I ever think that Hubby's full-time job would also become my full-time job?  I mean, he mentioned something about "basically starting a company" and that we would need to "invest some time and money" in this new company, but somehow that went in one ear and out the other.

What I heard?  Was that Hubby was joining a large, national company with a wonderful history and reputation as one of their agents.

I saw company support.  I saw management opportunities.  I saw a future for us.

And all of this is still true!  It's just a bit of a bumpier road than I had foreseen.  And a lot more work.  Even as I type, I am working on a tedious scanning project for my own job while filling out postcards for Hubby's.  And when I get home, I'll put on my other full-time hat as Mom, while juggling my fourth full-time hat as Wife. 

While all of my jobs come with benefits, only the one comes with a paycheck!

I'm Choking

You know that feeling when it's hard to breath, and your stomach is in your throat, and it's all hurty?
That feeling where, somehow, tears would make it all better?
That choking feeling?
Yeah.  That one.  I has that.

Lately, I've been feeling like I'm just not quite enough.  I'm not quite a good enough employee.  I'm not quite a good enough sister (-in-law).  I'm not quite a good enough daughter (-in-law).  I'm not quite a good enough wife. 

The only time I do feel good enough is as Laura's mom.  So that's awesome. 

But not quite good enough to make up for all the times I've snapped at Hubby lately.  Or all the times I've sighed and said, "Whatever.  I don't care."  Or those times I've said, "Just make a decision and tell me what I'm doing."  Because it's not quite fair of me to say things like that.

Lately, I have felt jealousy towards everyone for everything.  Your blog is better than mine.  Your hair is better than mine.  Your clothes are better than mine.  Your shoes are better than mine.  Your car is better than mine.  Your house is better than mine.  You are happier than me.  Your house and car and shoes and clothes and hair and blog are better than mine and you are happier than me because of it.

The only time I am not jealous of you/my mom/my sisters/my brothers/in-laws/friends/coworkers is when I look at Laura.  Because she's pretty wonderful. 

Then I realize, looking at Laura, that my life is pretty wonderful.
Then I realize that I'm pretty petty.  And jealous.  And awful.
And I want to stop being petty and jealous and awful.
But I can't stop wanting things.

I want those clothes, and shoes, and hair, and cars, and houses, and interior design budgets, and designer bags, and fancy strollers, and that super-uber-popular blog...  But those things are not me. 

I'm not sure who I really am. 

Who I really am is choking.
My wants are choking me.

I'm Choking

You know that feeling when it's hard to breath, and your stomach is in your throat, and it's all hurty?
That feeling where, somehow, tears would make it all better?
That choking feeling?
Yeah.  That one.  I has that.

Lately, I've been feeling like I'm just not quite enough.  I'm not quite a good enough employee.  I'm not quite a good enough sister (-in-law).  I'm not quite a good enough daughter (-in-law).  I'm not quite a good enough wife. 

The only time I do feel good enough is as Laura's mom.  So that's awesome. 

But not quite good enough to make up for all the times I've snapped at Hubby lately.  Or all the times I've sighed and said, "Whatever.  I don't care."  Or those times I've said, "Just make a decision and tell me what I'm doing."  Because it's not quite fair of me to say things like that.

Lately, I have felt jealousy towards everyone for everything.  Your blog is better than mine.  Your hair is better than mine.  Your clothes are better than mine.  Your shoes are better than mine.  Your car is better than mine.  Your house is better than mine.  You are happier than me.  Your house and car and shoes and clothes and hair and blog are better than mine and you are happier than me because of it.

The only time I am not jealous of you/my mom/my sisters/my brothers/in-laws/friends/coworkers is when I look at Laura.  Because she's pretty wonderful. 

Then I realize, looking at Laura, that my life is pretty wonderful.
Then I realize that I'm pretty petty.  And jealous.  And awful.
And I want to stop being petty and jealous and awful.
But I can't stop wanting things.

I want those clothes, and shoes, and hair, and cars, and houses, and interior design budgets, and designer bags, and fancy strollers, and that super-uber-popular blog...  But those things are not me. 

I'm not sure who I really am. 

Who I really am is choking.
My wants are choking me.

Dear Target,

Thank you for the seeds!

What a thoughtful giveaway.  I am just tickled pink with the packet of seeds you handed me at the train station this morning, and can't wait to grow something fresh!  I'm so excited for tomatoes!  You are just so clever.

However, I am slightly confused.  The directions on the back of the seed packet clearly state, "Plant outdoors after all danger of frost has passed, and night temps are above 45*F."  After all danger of frost has passed?  AFTER?? 

It's the middle of October!  I am going to have to wait a few months before I can plant these lovely tomatoes.  Perhaps this gift would have been better timed had you handed them out in May.  But thanks anyway.

Sincerely yours,

Mrs. MidAtlantic

Dear Target,

Thank you for the seeds!

What a thoughtful giveaway.  I am just tickled pink with the packet of seeds you handed me at the train station this morning, and can't wait to grow something fresh!  I'm so excited for tomatoes!  You are just so clever.

However, I am slightly confused.  The directions on the back of the seed packet clearly state, "Plant outdoors after all danger of frost has passed, and night temps are above 45*F."  After all danger of frost has passed?  AFTER?? 

It's the middle of October!  I am going to have to wait a few months before I can plant these lovely tomatoes.  Perhaps this gift would have been better timed had you handed them out in May.  But thanks anyway.

Sincerely yours,

Mrs. MidAtlantic

Who needs toys

When you have a cardboard box?!

Please note all the expensive toys in the background that are being completely ignored.

On the other hand, she played so nicely this evening!  It was really quite pleasant.  We followed play time with a bath, where we washed Laura's hair with real shampoo for the first time!  I mean, still Johnson's No More Tears, but shampoo!  Not the head to toe!  And I can't even begin to tell you how shiny and clean and yummy smelling her hair was after the bath! 

Happiness is a clean, lightly perfumed, happy baby.

Who needs toys

When you have a cardboard box?!

Please note all the expensive toys in the background that are being completely ignored.

On the other hand, she played so nicely this evening!  It was really quite pleasant.  We followed play time with a bath, where we washed Laura's hair with real shampoo for the first time!  I mean, still Johnson's No More Tears, but shampoo!  Not the head to toe!  And I can't even begin to tell you how shiny and clean and yummy smelling her hair was after the bath! 

Happiness is a clean, lightly perfumed, happy baby.

Wordless Wednesday: World Edition

There is goodness in this world.

In the first precious minutes of this morning, the Chilean miners were freed.

Wordless Wednesday: World Edition

There is goodness in this world.

In the first precious minutes of this morning, the Chilean miners were freed.

Dear Diary

One of my worst syptoms of PPD was what can only be called the "I hates." I've been so good about NOT feeling hatred for so long. Until tonight.

I hateHubby's family.
I hate their incessant drama.
I hate Hubby's job.
I hate feeling like a widow to his job.
I hate that I see Hubby everday - and I still feel like that widow.
I hate that drama comes up with Hubby's family (again), and when pressed for an answer my only response can be, "I don't know; Hubby and I haven't had a chance to discuss it."


Why can't they all just leave me the fuck out of it??

Dear Diary

One of my worst syptoms of PPD was what can only be called the "I hates." I've been so good about NOT feeling hatred for so long. Until tonight.

I hateHubby's family.
I hate their incessant drama.
I hate Hubby's job.
I hate feeling like a widow to his job.
I hate that I see Hubby everday - and I still feel like that widow.
I hate that drama comes up with Hubby's family (again), and when pressed for an answer my only response can be, "I don't know; Hubby and I haven't had a chance to discuss it."


Why can't they all just leave me the fuck out of it??

Planning Ahead

Hubby and I have always wanted a house full of children.  I say two to four would be great, Hubby says three to five.  Let's compromise and say three or four.  If that's what God has planned for us, of course.  Obviously then, we have come up with a "plan" for how far apart we'd like to space those babies.

Hubby would have me pregnant and ready to pop out #2 any minute if he had his way.  Thankfully (for me), his sister is getting married next May and I refuse to be a pregnant bridesmaid!  And next May seems perfect anyway.  Laura will be 1 1/2, which would make the babies roughly two years apart. 

So last night I got to thinking about adding #2 to our little family.  And how I have that nice cushion till May.  And then I realized that May is in eight months. 

HOLY CRAP!

I feel like we only just met Laura, and here we are talking about adding a little brother or sister in less than a year?!  Am I nuts?!  Can someone else please get engaged and ask me to be a bridesmaid?!  Pass me a paper bag.  I'm a little bit hyperventilating.  Good thing babies take a few months to cook!

Planning Ahead

Hubby and I have always wanted a house full of children.  I say two to four would be great, Hubby says three to five.  Let's compromise and say three or four.  If that's what God has planned for us, of course.  Obviously then, we have come up with a "plan" for how far apart we'd like to space those babies.

Hubby would have me pregnant and ready to pop out #2 any minute if he had his way.  Thankfully (for me), his sister is getting married next May and I refuse to be a pregnant bridesmaid!  And next May seems perfect anyway.  Laura will be 1 1/2, which would make the babies roughly two years apart. 

So last night I got to thinking about adding #2 to our little family.  And how I have that nice cushion till May.  And then I realized that May is in eight months. 

HOLY CRAP!

I feel like we only just met Laura, and here we are talking about adding a little brother or sister in less than a year?!  Am I nuts?!  Can someone else please get engaged and ask me to be a bridesmaid?!  Pass me a paper bag.  I'm a little bit hyperventilating.  Good thing babies take a few months to cook!

My new favorite thing ever

The SleepSack by Halo

Soft?  Yes.  Cozy?  You betcha.  Snugglicious?  You get the picture.

On the second evening of Laura not sleeping (Sunday into Monday), I picked her up at one point to try and calm her down and realized she was rather chilly.  I can't sleep when I too cold, so why should she be able to?  Perhaps the drop in temperature was keeping Laura from sleep!

So like any good mom, I hauled her over to Babies R Us last night after work to pick up some warmer sleep attire.  I left with one fleecy Halo SleepSack, one Carter's Sleepbag, and (for when she's a little bigger) one Carter's Footy Pajamas - complete with grippers on the feetsies!

Last night, I bundled Laura in a pair of socks (she has my cold hands and feet), a set of cottom jammies, and the Halo SleepSack.  First of all, she looked adorable.  Second of all, she loved feeling the soft fleece of the SleepSack between her fingers.  Third of all, she slept through the night! 

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it wasn't a fluke, and I'll be bundling the babe up again tonight.  Maybe I'll leave off the socks.

My new favorite thing ever

The SleepSack by Halo

Soft?  Yes.  Cozy?  You betcha.  Snugglicious?  You get the picture.

On the second evening of Laura not sleeping (Sunday into Monday), I picked her up at one point to try and calm her down and realized she was rather chilly.  I can't sleep when I too cold, so why should she be able to?  Perhaps the drop in temperature was keeping Laura from sleep!

So like any good mom, I hauled her over to Babies R Us last night after work to pick up some warmer sleep attire.  I left with one fleecy Halo SleepSack, one Carter's Sleepbag, and (for when she's a little bigger) one Carter's Footy Pajamas - complete with grippers on the feetsies!

Last night, I bundled Laura in a pair of socks (she has my cold hands and feet), a set of cottom jammies, and the Halo SleepSack.  First of all, she looked adorable.  Second of all, she loved feeling the soft fleece of the SleepSack between her fingers.  Third of all, she slept through the night! 

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it wasn't a fluke, and I'll be bundling the babe up again tonight.  Maybe I'll leave off the socks.

I have a cold.

My head is stuffy.
My nose is runny.
My eyes are watery.
My brain is mushy.

You know what would make this better?  A nap.  Am I going to get one?  Nope.  Please cross your fingers on my behalf that Laura doesn't fail at sleep tonight.  We've been up all night with her two nights in a row.  It's the pits.

I have a cold.

My head is stuffy.
My nose is runny.
My eyes are watery.
My brain is mushy.

You know what would make this better?  A nap.  Am I going to get one?  Nope.  Please cross your fingers on my behalf that Laura doesn't fail at sleep tonight.  We've been up all night with her two nights in a row.  It's the pits.

An Important Message from Ellen About Bullying

Because highschool is hard enough:


And because it really does get better:

I plan on hugging my daughter when I get home.  I know she's only 8 months old, but God.  I just want the best for her.  I can't imagine losing her.

How Tropical Storm Nicole Made My Day

(Or: How my new rain boots paid for themselves)

I have been doing the same commute every morning for the last (OMG) six years.  Wake up.Get dressed.Drive to train station.Park.Trudge to platform.Ride train.Rinse.Repeat.  For six years I have complained about the poor drainage in my little commuter parking lot during big rain storms.  I have been lamenting long days at the office with cold, wet feet.  And lately, I have been thinking that maybe those people wearing rain boots are pretty smart.

I joined the ranks of the smart commuters and bought myself some (really cute!) rain boots a few weeks ago.  Yesterday, I was able to wear them for the first time.  If the torrential rain brought to my region (thanks TS Nicole!) weren't enough of an excuse for rain boots, I don't know what would be!  The rain was INSANE.  Mini flash floods all around me.  But no matter the depths of the puddle, my toes stayed happy and warm inside The Boots.

Then I got to work.  I sat down for a relaxing day, with warm toes.  I was happily working away, doing what it is I do, when all of a sudden, the fire alarm started blaring.  After I peeled myself off the ceiling (it's a LOUD alarm), I calmly pulled on my rain boots, donned my rain coat and grabbed my trusty umbrella to head outside.  And I am so glad I did!

The rain was falling as hard and as fast as I have ever seen.  The umbrella was pretty much useless.  I felt like Forrest Gump during the monsoon:

But!  I was dry!  My toes were warm!  My rain boots paid for themselves in the 10 minute (false alarm) fire drill spent outside!  I looked adorable, and remained as cozy as can be.  And that's how Tropical Storm Nicole (and my new boots!)  made my day.

An Important Message from Ellen About Bullying

Because highschool is hard enough:


And because it really does get better:

I plan on hugging my daughter when I get home.  I know she's only 8 months old, but God.  I just want the best for her.  I can't imagine losing her.

How Tropical Storm Nicole Made My Day

(Or: How my new rain boots paid for themselves)

I have been doing the same commute every morning for the last (OMG) six years.  Wake up.Get dressed.Drive to train station.Park.Trudge to platform.Ride train.Rinse.Repeat.  For six years I have complained about the poor drainage in my little commuter parking lot during big rain storms.  I have been lamenting long days at the office with cold, wet feet.  And lately, I have been thinking that maybe those people wearing rain boots are pretty smart.

I joined the ranks of the smart commuters and bought myself some (really cute!) rain boots a few weeks ago.  Yesterday, I was able to wear them for the first time.  If the torrential rain brought to my region (thanks TS Nicole!) weren't enough of an excuse for rain boots, I don't know what would be!  The rain was INSANE.  Mini flash floods all around me.  But no matter the depths of the puddle, my toes stayed happy and warm inside The Boots.

Then I got to work.  I sat down for a relaxing day, with warm toes.  I was happily working away, doing what it is I do, when all of a sudden, the fire alarm started blaring.  After I peeled myself off the ceiling (it's a LOUD alarm), I calmly pulled on my rain boots, donned my rain coat and grabbed my trusty umbrella to head outside.  And I am so glad I did!

The rain was falling as hard and as fast as I have ever seen.  The umbrella was pretty much useless.  I felt like Forrest Gump during the monsoon:

But!  I was dry!  My toes were warm!  My rain boots paid for themselves in the 10 minute (false alarm) fire drill spent outside!  I looked adorable, and remained as cozy as can be.  And that's how Tropical Storm Nicole (and my new boots!)  made my day.