Yesterday

I almost set my house on fire.

I was cuddling with my baby, nursing her to her hearts content because I felt guilty for letting her cry while I showered, when all of the sudden the fire alarm is signaling in the kitchen area.

My heart started to race, I was wearing only a towel and I had my baby in my arms. I had to run in there and see if there really was a fire. I wasn't cooking anything (LOL, long story) so I knew something was up. Smoke filled the dining room and living room. Oh God, what am I going to find around the next corner in the kitchen? Smoke was rolling out of a pan on the stove but no fire. Phew, thank goodness I hadn't set anything on fire. But damn, I boiled 4 pacifiers to the point of no return. They were now one big blob of melted plastic in the bottom of my favorite tiny pot. Okay, my only tiny pot.

The baby is coughing, I can barely breathe; what a disaster. Okay, find a safe place for her to be while you air out this house. Luckily her room was clean and fresh air was plenty. I opened her window to be safe and put her in her crib while I ran around the house opening doors and turning on fans with a towel over my face because the smoke was really unbearable. The kitchen still stinks like burned plastic.

Like an hour later I was all, oh yeah, we have a fire extinguisher. Embarrassingly, that was the last thought in my head as I was heading for the kitchen to investigate. My sweet loving husband so kindly reminded me...."yeah, you're not exactly the pillar of strength when it comes to emergencies."

Eat Shit.

I did the best I could and hopefully I'll never have scare like that again. Oddly enough, the last week or so, I've been thinking about fires and the possibility of us having one more often than normal.

That was freaky and I'm thankful that it was only a pan full of binks and that our home is still in tact.

On the lighter side of things, my eldest daughter is officially a redneck woman, much like Gretchen Wilson only instead of keeping her Christmas lights on, on her front porch...my little redneck woman keeps her Christmas socks on and don't even ask her to take them off.

A little sick.

Home sick. It's such a bittersweet experience whenever I go back to where my baby roots were laid. Easton. Whoa, how far am I away from that place? Not just in the physical sense, but also emotionally. Maturity has taken on a new meaning since leaving the nest. Could I have ever even really grown up there? I don't think I was capable of escaping the preconceived ideas of who and what I would have become had I stayed in that god forsaken town. That town, county, place would have swallowed me up like a tornado devours a trailer park in Kansas. I can't even fathom where I would have lived, who I would have shared my life with; going there is unimaginable. A whole other place in time, my life, my person, my heart is so completely different than that tough party girl that didn't need anyone to get her through the night. Ever.

So why do I yearn for the smell of fresh potato dirt? Why do I reminisce about the Fry Pan? Why do I even want to relive those moments of despair and uncertainty? I honestly have no idea. It's not so much I want to relive the life I had there as much as it is the wanting to relive a different experience. Does that make sense? And though I must stress I have little regrets, life is just too short for that, I do wish for a day. Just one day in which I could be the person I am now. Just one day where I wasn't the confused, hurt, angry, tough, mean, intolerable person that was on the brink of crumbling at any given moment.

I would be nice to everyone. I would be compassionate to the struggles of others, especially the people who had gone through the same things that I was wrestling with to forget. I wouldn't get stoned (as much, lol). I would laugh out loud and not think even once about Bobby Dionne or the Fry Pan road. I would walk with confidence and hang out with all of the people that would have been supportive had I not pushed them all out of my life by being a tyrannical monster. I wouldn't try to compete. period. I would be home on time for dinner and play Yahtzee with my mum.

These are the things I think about when I'm sick like this. I say bittersweet because I couldn't ever fit into that mold I once wore, yet I miss the time I had there. I miss the innocence of growing up because I had no idea at the time how precious it was and tried so hard to be worldly and knowledgeable that I missed it. And now I have to live with the memory, or lack there of, that it has become. And sometimes there is.....just a little regret.

Update!

Still loving the Dyson. I am so impressed with the excellent performance of this product. I am seriously thinking I ripped Mr. Dyson off....I can't even deal with how happy I feel since our introduction.



We have a wood stove inserted into our fire place to supplement due to the rising cost of heating fuel. It not only gives us more bang for our buck but saves us a bundle to boot. The only problem is the dust and crud that comes along with them and I felt our home was beginning to smell all together too woodsy for my taste. Now that I have a Dyson my problems are solved. I vacuum every single morning and am amazed the the amount of dust and animal hair that comes off my living room oriental. Just from one day.

My husband thinks I'm losing my mind and has offered to leave me and the Dyson alone on occasion in case I needed to...um...have some private time. He doesn't do the majority of the cleaning around here so of course he doesn't understand the bombdigityness of my new savior. I have done half the normal dusting this week because of my Dyson, half the sweeping of floors because it works better on them anyway. I'm motivated every single morning to do my housework simply because the first thing I do is vacuum and pick up the living room, from there it just explodes into cleaning the whole house and I'm not even mad about it. Mostly because it takes me half the time to do the same job. That extra time affords me to cuddle the cutest little baby girl around these here parts all the more.

So...I couldn't go one more day without saying, once again, how Dyson has changed my life. I will never love another vacuum again.

Can I get them to go, please?

Sure, would you like some fries with that?

Yeah, the baby thinks that my boobs are detachable. I'm trying to explain to her that she can't take them with her wherever she goes, yet she doesn't quite understand. She is almost 5 months old now, she should be getting these things, don't you think?

What happens is she's distracted. She has a big love affair going on with the world around her and not even her precious can keep her occupied for long. And she loves those milky mama goody goody yummies. She'll be nursing so contently and suddenly the dog barks, or the phone rings and whip goes her head to investigate that familiar noise to find where it's coming from and along with her head....yep, you guessed it... yank goes the teet. All I have to say is thank sweet baby Jesus she doesn't have any teeth yet.

She's also recently started experimenting with her vocal range. I laugh so hard listening to her make all her different sounds. She's loud (for those who know me, surprising, I know) and can be quite demanding at times. But darn it all is she ever cute. I can get so frustrated after a long sleepless night and swear I'll not be swayed by that cute dimpalicious smile of hers but she wins every single time. Can you blame me?

What the?

I'm getting more and more confused by the week. My fav show Lost is driving me nuts. There are still so many unanswered questions and yet the writers are digging even deeper into the depths of the unknown. WTF?

Seriously, what the hell is the black smoke that killed Eko and what is the reason for his brother losing his life on the same island? Ferocious polar bears? All of these hatches that supposedly have something to do with the Dharma Iniative and now the others have taken control of them. Or whatever? And whats his name, Denny? He keeps living the same life over and over again and is trying to keep the poor bastard Charlie from kicking the bucket. Claire is Jack's sister, Locke's father is all the sudden on the island and came from some box that has secret wishing powers. There's just too many screwed up things to list them all. So many questions and NO $#%$ing answers.

Lost? You're damn right I'm lost. Yeah, I'll still watch the freakin' show. But I ain't happy about it.

There is no greater love.

I get it. I understand her affection for her vacuum. I was lucky enough to have a Rainbow that my mom passed down to me. I liked it, but there were drawbacks. The water basin needing to be filled every.single.time you vacuumed. The water basin needing to be emptied, outside, ever.single.time you vacuumed. There were parts here and parts there, it seemed to have more residing spaces in our home than we did. The cord needed outlet changing when I got to my bedroom, which is a total pain when you're in the throes of dust busting. However, this machine was no wuss, it was designed to do some serious dirt/hair/dust removal and that it did. So imagine my dismay when, luckily unfortunately, our Rainbow passed away this morning. And though I am saddened at the departure of my beloved vacuum, I am also excited that I have the opportunity to purchase a new one.

Normally, I would not be so quick to spend such an amount on a vacuum, BUT, I just recently celebrated a birthday and happened to receive a bit of cash from my husband's grandmother. I love this woman dearly, not just for the generous gift, but also because she's my wine drinking buddy at family functions. She is sweet and kind and never judgemental. I do not have to be successful in the business world or otherwise to gain her approval, in fact, her old school beliefs put my profession at the top of her list of most successful. She was at home taking care of her children in her day and she takes great pleasure in my profession being the same. She would never outright say so, but she doesn't need to. There's a sense of camaraderie between SAHM, young and old alike.

I will admit a small amount of buyer's remorse with this purchase. Especially since I could purchase a couple of new windows or a new stove for my kitchen, but when I opened this sexy beast and experienced the capabilities of this puppy I was sold....hook, line and sinker. I want to apologize publicly to James Dyson for the initial doubt I had in purchasing his wonderful invention. This is no mere vacuum, this is the ultimate household appliance, fighting dirt and dander of all kinds, never to leave me disappointed at the mediocre cleanliness of my home again.

Because I'm always writing about

urinated lady on bedroom

someone was able to find my blog.

Awesome.

Oh, the life of a seven year old.

"One day, I hope I get $1000.00. I wanna own Chucky Cheeses."

and then there's

"Mimi is the best birthday present giver ever. I think Mimi might be a little rich."

The Scare.

Scare is putting it mildly. I've been experiencing nausea, reminiscent of early pregnancy. I've been avoiding it, hoping it would pass like an afternoon rain shower, forgotten by sunset. But it held on and reminded me constantly of how I felt this time exactly 1 year ago. I had just found out I was pregnant with Em and it instantly arrived, as if morning sickness was packaged with the positive pregnancy test.

I know that I have LAM on my side, but stranger things have happened. Until I actually have a period I have no idea I've actually ovulated. I've been bf'ing exclusively for 4 months and only recently introduced solids on a regular basis so my chances were slim...but the nausea...the headaches, were all too vaguely familiar to rule it out completely.

I had the hubby bring home a test tonight and am relieved to announce a negative result. Well worth the $15 it cost to find out, that I know for sure. I couldn't even contemplate another baby right now. I would seriously consider running far, far away and hiding for about three years. Phew. Phew. Phew. That scared the living shit right the hell out of me.

Spring is on the way.

On one hand winter came and went so fast, on the other it lingered like the stench of a burned bag of popcorn. Hard to believe 4 months have passed since we introduced the little on into our family. Change is happening so fast in this house I'm lucky to keep my head on straight. The babe, of course, is the focus of all this change. S contributes her fair share since she will soon be blossoming into a tween over the next couple of birthdays. OH MY!! As I watch Em sprout into a playful toddler, her older sister will be soaring into puberty. I can almost see the next 4 years flashing before my eyes right now. Ugh...then I'll be in the second half of my thirties. I hope the clock slows down a little bit. I could have lived nearly half my life by now ya know. Not that I know my fate or when I am slated to pass from this grand planet, but 31 x 2 = 62....you just never know. I wish I had known how precious and fleeting time really is while I was younger.

My Mom and Dee were visiting this past weekend. WOW. A year does a lot to a person her age. She'll celebrate 79 years on her next birthday. She reminds me of a tiny little bird now (funny since her name is Bertie Bird..hahaha,ok that was bad), her face is smaller, her body shrinking, her mind isn't so bad, but there wasn't a day here that she actually remembered where my bedroom was. I chuckled as she headed towards the garage to head off to bed each night, but truth be told it's sad what happens to people as they age. Some are able to keep their dignity well into their golden years, but eventually we all end up pissing ourselves and forgetting our children's names at one point.

Dee looks good, though. I'm really grateful she beat her cancer. She is so lucky to have her voice in tact. It's also because of her that I celebrate an entire year smoke free tomorrow. Not.One.Single.Puff. Oh I've contemplated the thought, dreamed of smoking on several occasions but have otherwise remained strong. For the first time in 15 years I made it an entire year.

I'm still bf'ing. Not entirely by choice mind you. I thought I would be able to wean sometime between 3 and 6 months but that isn't going to happen. And I'm okay with that. I've told myself to get ready for the long haul and that's what the plan is. I've had several failed attempts with formula but have started solids recently and have to brag about our great success. Actually, I didn't have a lot to do with it. Em is just ready for more. She hesitated with cereal a bit, but now that fruit is in the picture she is all about her yum yums. Now the wheels are set into motion and I'll let her be my guide. She's hungry and I'm tired of bf'ing 15 times a day. It's time for us to take the next step.

S's bday party is tomorrow. I have a 7 year old. That doesn't seem possible to me. My growth as a wife and mother happened simultaneously with her growth into a young girl. How things have changed since becoming pregnant with her. I always felt like she was my gift, my wake up call so to speak, telling me that my life is on the right course and if I didn't start following it I would lose it. And quick. I also felt like she was my chance to relive my little years in a different way. To give her the love and chance at real emotional growth that I never had. I felt that she was meant for me, another sensitive little Pisces girl to nurture and protect from all the bad in the world. She is the mini version of me right down to the cow lick on the right side of her bangs. I am who I am right now because of that little girl and she never ceases to teach me lessons on being a good person. She's my reason to smile every single day.

Yes, Spring is on the way. Daylight savings goes into effect this weekend...much earlier than normal. I'm not looking forward to the dark mornings but the light at the end of the day is always a blessing. Soon I will have daffodils, tulips, crocus and hyacinth sprouting through the cold earth reminding me that life evolves and chances at new beginnings are possible with every horizon. Happy Spring!

One question.

Why is it okay for us to listen to our children cry, fuss, complain all day every day but two hours on a Saturday is just too much to ask from the other contributor of dna to these little munchkins? I know the mitochondria is all me...but damn....mama needs a wee break sometimes and I don't want to feel guilty for it.

Men.

I am the dorkiest thirty year old ever.

OH, except for all the other thirty somethings (give or take a year or twenty) who were right there with me singing the blues. My guiltiest pleasure of all pleasures is karaoke. I need to do this in order to expose the song bird in me. I sing all day long, in the shower, in the car, to my babies, while playing my cheap fender acoustic, but that alone doesn't quench my thirst for applause and whistles. This is when I get to shine, so to speak. I know it's so dumb, that is why I'm so guilty about loving the hell out of it. But here's the deal, a girl needs to have something that is all her own to hold onto. I don't shop much, I don't have tons of girlfriends, I don't have a job outside of my home and I never go anywhere unless it's family related. What I do have is my beloved karaoke a couple times a year.

Why this past Friday? Well, let me just tell you, they have a super duper karaoke contest down this way. Where the locals like to call "the valley". It's held in a little rinky dink bar off the bowling alley. I entered it last year by recommendation and won 3rd place, one place shy of moving onto the REGIONALS in NYC! You have no idea the fame that is attached with the karaoke idol winners around these here parts. I was in the paper down in PENNSYLVANIA and everything. Seriously people, this is nothing short of heading to Nashville for some lucky contestants (not really, but whatever).

The contest is held in two parts. For thirteen weeks they pick singers from across the land to move on to the second portion of the show which involves about 40 singers, all competing for the title of Karaoke Idol. Except I think this year they're calling it the SUPER KARAOKE CONTEST III. For the big contest, which is held in April, they spare no streamer, not one piece of flashy confetti is left unused, the stage is set, and the seats are full of hopeful winners and gushing fans.

This has got to be one of the longest nights ever because everyone gets to sing their song of choice in round one, then they pick 15 or 20 people to sing another song so the winners can be decided, which takes FOREVER. Prizes are handed out to the top 5, nice little checks ranging from $250 to $75. The winners of 1st and 2nd place move onto the next round in NYC and the winners from there head to Vegas (trip for two) for the national competition and top prize of $5000. So it is obvious why I would want to enter this amazing contest and sing for the coveted title of Super Karaoke Contest Winner.

HAHA, this is so funny and silly because I could never really see myself entering such a contest before. I have to admit, though, that I have a blast. I have met a few nice people that I can be myself around and the look on people's faces when I belt out Janice Joplin's Bobby McGee is priceless. Plus I feel great when I do this. It's just the boost in self confidence I need to pick up my droopy, winter hating eyes and replace that sparkle that I once had back in the day.

So maybe I blew the dust off from my make up case and got a much needed hair cut. Maybe I wiggled when I walked just a little bit and smiled more than normal. Maybe I drank too much beer (according to my today's standards anyway) and sang a couple of kick ass songs Friday night. I needed that lift so badly. I sang the socks right off the adoring crowd. Hell, I think my milk even let down at one point. Which was funnier than hell, especially since I was the only one who knew this (thank GOD!). I could see the blissful looks on the judges faces as I did my la la la la's at the end of Janice's song. They love me so, I can just tell. I have to wait until next Friday to find out if I moved onto the second round, but there isn't much doubt, I'm just wondering if I won the weekly prize of $100 that is awarded to 1st place. I am trying not to toot my own horn, but dammit, every once in a while you need to. And I'm not even sorry, either.

I'm title-less today.

Is there such a thing as title less? Because if there is, that is where I'm at. I am lost in the trenches of motherhood and bodily fluids and see no end in sight. I've been puked, drooled, spit, urinated and crapped on this week and it's only Wednesday.

Honestly, there is no me right now. I want to enjoy this time in my baby's life and I try, try, try to live in the moment, but it's so fucking hard when I stink of 9 different kinds of baby goo. I try to find me in her, define myself as a mother and get my fulfillment as an individual from that, there just seems to be something lacking. I miss me, I want to find me and coax me out of that maternal ca coon and out into the real world again, if only just for an evening. Seriously, I am getting way too comfortable inside the walls I call my home. I am in serious need of adult interaction of some kind with someone other than the man I love (no offense honey).

I also need to get my hair did and lose 10 lbs.

I hate winter.

I'm almost 31 and haven't even come to terms with 30 yet.

Fuck.

Today has been a day that just needs a good flush.

I rarely have complete, intelligent thoughts anymore (that's assuming I actually did, at one time, have intelligent thoughts). And I'm not even stoned.

Fuck.

Valentine's Day sucks balls.

I'm going to be married for NINE years this month.

THIRTY-ONE SUCKS.

I want to have sex that doesn't make my vagina feel like it is going to fall off. Or maybe I do, but I want to enjoy it.

That's all.

I've nothing left to give right now. Even my fingers are too tired to participate.

"Pardon my French, but what the

HELL is this?" said the 10 week old baby when her father placed a bottle of formula into her mouth in the wee wee hours of Saturday morning. The plan was to let Mom get some sleep. The lack there of has been taking its toll on her brain function and this seemed like a practical solution. So with some gentle coaching from a trusted friend I went there. I was ready to try a little supplementing. E, on the other hand, was not.

It wasn't the bottle that threw her, it was what came out that sent her into a gurgling nightmare. Poor thing would take a suck, cry, take a suck, cry. I heard the milk in the back of her little throat bubbling as she fought that horrible taste from entering her body.

I'll admit, as desperate as I am to get a break, I was secretly hoping she would hate getting anything other than my milk. My heart filled up with pride as I climbed out of bed and ran to her rescue. I lifted my shirt and she clamped onto me as if she hadn't seen her warm and soft ba bas in days. She was in the land of milk and honey and there wasn't a soul who could pry her off.

So, failed attempt number one. Good news is she'll take a bottle, she just wont drink that stinky, nasty formula. I don't blame her. As I was making that bottle the guilt raised up in my chest as the horrible whiff of pretend milk wafted into my smeller. Yuck.

The bottle we will try again. I'm going to have to find time and energy to pump one night time feeding so's the mama can get a break. The dada just seems too darn rested and I'm thinking we need to even this out a little bit. :-)

Two months

have passed since giving birth to you little baby girl. I love you more than I ever thought possible. My love will continue to grow my sweet, and our bond will strengthen as time goes on. We've only just met yet I feel like I've always had you in my heart. I look into your big eyes and wonder if you feel the same about me.

I finally have a mini papa. I say mini papa because my first, S, looks exactly like me. I couldn't have copied a tiny version of myself any better than I have with the exception of her brilliant eyes. Those beauties are just a shade darker than mine; it's as if J and I poured our two colors together and made an original that was all her own. You on the other hand, my dear one, look very much like your daddy. I am excited to see what you're going to look like 4 months; 6 months; 2 years down the road. And I dare say you just might have those same pretty eyes your sister has.

My life has changed so much since I found out you were going to be part of our family. Pregnancy has never been my one of my brightest moments. Although I felt privileged to feel you so close to me before we had even met you, it was still difficult carrying the burden all to myself. I can't remember the last time I slept 8 hours undisturbed and I became a cranky old woman in no time. Since your birth, though, every hour of sleep lost; every pound gained; every uncomfortable back ache; every single twinge of annoyance has all been worth the trouble. You have filled a spot in our family that I didn't even know existed. You fit so well, my dear daughter; it's hard to imagine a time when you weren't here.

I decided early on that I would breastfeed you. I tried with your older sister and failed miserably. Neither of us could get into a rhythm and I had no idea exactly how persistent you needed to be in those first few weeks to establish a good relationship. With you, I was determined to do what was best. I can't say it was easy, but I can't say it was incredibly difficult either. You longed to nurse, it seemed. It felt so natural and we had few moments when it was so hard I wanted to quit. Every time it got a little rough I would tell myself to keep trying; just one more day. One more day would come and go and another would begin and we'd still be plugging away, you and I. Now the rewards of breastfeeding have begun. I get the sweetest smiles. You know, the smiles you keep all to yourself until it's just you and I sitting quietly alone while you're having a morning snack. I get to see your little legs grow chubby from my milk. I feel so confident in our relationship and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you know who your mama is and not just any old woman would do. You need me, you want me and you show me how much you love me all the time with your sparkling eyes and playful smile. I am rewarded with the special bond we share together because I gave you life and now I'm sustaining and caring for you in the most perfect of ways. I'm not giving that up anytime soon, that I am sure of.

You're growing my little one. Way too fast. I wish that I could somehow stop time and hold you close to me forever and keep the beautiful innocence that envelopes you. I often find myself embracing you tightly to my chest, drinking you in as deep as I can to solidify my memory of your infancy. I don't want to forget these moments we have together. I am all too familiar with just how fleeting they really are. It makes me sad to think how quickly it will pass.

You are my happy place dear child, you and your sister have brought me joy beyond compare. I hope you know, one day, how full you both have made me. To the brim, my sweet, to the brim.

In a fog.

The past week has come and gone so quickly that I find it hard to remember the order in which it all happened. Holidays, especially Christmas, tend to be one big blur regardless of what is going on. Add to that a new baby, add thrush and a double ear infection the week before and you've got yourself a confused mama complete with crying baby.

The thrush I think has been mild since the c-section to be completely honest. My body reacts to antibiotics the same way every time. I had so many other things going on throughout recovery that it took a few weeks to figure out that there were a few ailments sticking around. At one point I thought I had thrush and as soon as I made that conclusion the symptoms disappeared completely. Only to return at full force the minute I went a little crazy with the sugar cookies and gave it enough gas to show its ugly head once more. We've both been treated and hopefully will not have to deal with that again. Yuck!!

The ear infection came two days after I was at the Dr. for thrush. The very same day I started taking diflucan the baby started screaming in the middle of the night. Looking back, all signs led to ear infection, but I was so confused because I thought it may have been an adverse reaction to the new medication. The poor thing had an ear infection in BOTH ears and wasn't even two months old. I felt so horrible, like the worst mother in the world. They had to draw her blood from veins that are barely the size of the needle they are sticking into her little arms (and legs because it took three tries!!!). What a nightmare. Luckily, they finally got enough blood for a culture, otherwise I would have had to drive to the hospital lab to have it drawn there and start the horrific process all over, just to drive back there so they could give her a shot of antibiotic. After the blood came the shot anyway, but at least we didn't have to drive all over town adding stress to an already stressful situation. Needless to say the hubby and I fought that night because I was an irritable bitch and he didn't feel like helping me be nice. (Am I the only one who needs to be talked out of bitchiness?)

All of the craziness gave me a weight loss boost that I was wicked stoked about for about a whole day. I gave myself permission to act like I hadn't eaten in years over the holiday and immediately put all the weight plus a pound or two back on. A week of discipline should put me back where I was before the extra weight loss but it's hard to get back on track after a naughty binge.

Christmas was quiet, relaxing and enjoyable despite all the chaos prior. We all ate Christmas dinner in the clothes we woke up in. A little lazy, but what the hay. S was delighted with all her goodies and E was asleep the entire time we opened gifts. I threw the tree out the house yesterday evening and will be packing up the rest of the holiday decor next week. I love this time of year but am always happy to see it come to a close.

Now, all I want to know is, is it spring yet?

She is kinda cute.....

Today

I'm losing my mind.

Another growth spurt, three other kids to run after and voices shouting Mama, Aropa, Bapa, WAAAAAAAAH and woof woof (effing dog)!!!! ALL at the same time.

Are you sure it's not safe to douse yourself in alcohol while breastfeeding?

Right now there is one pre-toddler fighting a nap in my room because they finally took her bink away, two girls in S's room bickering over who gets to make the rules to whatever house game they are playing this hour and one sleeping baby on the couch.

Deep breath.

It's 3:00 pm and I am finally eating lunch. Light and fit yogurt with a handful of walnuts sprinkled in and a handful of carrots. Not the caloric intake I need but some days there just isn't time to make yourself a sandwich. Today is one of those days. I'll probably end the afternoon with an unhealthy binge because that is what happens when I get too hungry.

I'm sure in 7 minutes the babe will wake up and feed again. Hourly seems to be her gig today. Bless her little wailing heart. She is truly adorable yet stubborn in her own little way. She loves her some mama and will not settle for anything but the woman with the huge babas attached to her front. So cute.....but so frustrating. Mama loves her some baby too, though. I can't imagine what my life would be like without her now and the breastfeeding bonding thing we've got goin' on totally rocks even on the hardest days.

Funny question of the day.

"What will you be using for birth control?" the Dr. asks.

Silence.

Um.....abstinence?

I'm not so sure that's the answer the hubby wants to hear but a girl has to have some recuperation time after growing a live human being for heaven's sake. So maybe I told a little white lie....eventually I'm sure I'll give in to his begging. Just not so sure when.

Maybe by the approaching holiday. I'm going to need a bigger bow this year, though.

I love being the woman.

And the award goes to.....

my man for being the brightest husband EVER.



Thank-you very much for unloading an entire dishwasher full of DIRTY dishes. How thoughtful of you and economical, too. I wish I had only half the great ideas you have in one day.



I never thought I'd be saying this....but next time, I'll put the dishes away. K?