Clover and the case of the Disappearing (Reappearing?) Boy parts

So, the saga of Clover, the squirmy squid, is one of frustration. For me. See, I'm one of those that like to know as much as possible. That includes the sex of my internal baby. At my 16 week check up, I had an sonogram to check on some structural integrity issues (everything is up to code and we got all the green lights, don't call the fire marshall). At that appointment, the sono tech asked if we wanted to know if this baby was a boy or girl. I said if you can tell, tell me. So she looked and fairly quickly said, "looks like a boy." She was confident enough to have "It's a boy!!" (yes, with 2 exclamation points) printed on all the pictures that day. There was a picture of a baby butt with an arrow pointing towards something... round? Oh, look, testicles. No dangling parts, so she wasn't prepared to say 100% boy, go blue, but quite confident nonetheless.

Still, 16 weeks is pretty early as far as telling the squishy bits, so I didn't go shouting from rooftop just yet. I told J and we agreed to keep it mostly quiet, to try to prevent kind & loving friends from buying all the "baby brother" things in the world.

Now, a friend of mine works at a place with a brand new, fancy-shmancy 3D ultrasound machine. They're also training new nurse technicians to use this machine, so they've asked for volunteer pregnant ladies to practice on. I'm always down for an extra peek at the squid, so I signed up or a free 3D ultrasound and went in at 19 weeks. The big "anatomy scan" appointment is at 20 weeks usually, and that's when they measure all the things--heart, brain, liver, femur, and pretty much anything else they can get a picture of, including genitals. That's normally when you get to find out the boy/girl part. So 19 weeks wasn't too early at all. Bless the tech who did that ultrasound, because she spent a solid 5 minutes just looking for innie-or-outie parts. I'd refered to Clover as a he, so she asked if I already knew the sex and asked if I wanted confirmation. I told her just what I'd told the other tech--if you can tell, tell me. So she looked. But Clover's femur bones were quite parallel. Shy baby? She poked and prodded and wiggled and jiggled and much like the clouds parting for rays of sunshine and angel song, those femur bones parted as well. She said, "I've got a really good shot here, but..."

But? "But" isn't something you want to hear out of the mouths of most medical professionals, ok? It's just not that comforting. "But I don't see any boy parts." Oh, ok. Not a problem. No big deal. You can't always see them. Identifying them in a regular 2D ultrasound is difficult (and she only did 3D shots of the face, which had a tiny hand in front of it the whole time--stinker). I'll take another peek at my official 20 week appointment with my doctor. The tech shook her head at me. "No, what I'm saying is that...things look girly. Those are girl parts." So she took the time to scroll through the images and point out what she was seeing, the magic "three lines" that indicate girl baby. I left that appointment with the tech "80%" sure it was a girl.

The week between that appointment and today's appointment was... long. I don't like indecision. Ultimately, all I want is a healthy baby, but I really would like to know the sex of that baby before birth. Mostly for planning reasons. Do I want another girl? Yeah! I've got tons of cute girl clothes that I'd like to reuse. I've had a blast with my baby girl. Also, I always wanted a sister, so having sisters would be neat. Do I want a boy? Yeah! J & I are really good at picking out boy names. He's his father's only son, so he'd like a son to pass on the name. I've had a blast with my baby girl and I'd like to see how much fun a boy can be too. Seriously, I have opinions both ways. I got the girl I always wanted, and I would have loved her had she been a boy, but she isn't, so for now, I have my squishy dress up doll with the super cute cheeks and amazing eyelashes. This next baby is going to be different in more ways than I can imagine right now, so whether or not they have matching genitalia is kind of beside the point.

I JUST WANT TO KNOW ONE WAY OR THE OTHER!! Because if it is a boy, I have girl clothes to distribute to friends who are also growing humans from scratch at the moment.

Today, at my 20 week appointment, I told my ultrasound tech, who I'm now calling Lucy, because she reminds me of Lucy Liu, all about the disappearing boy parts at the 19 week ultrasound. She made sure to take an extra careful look, and we both saw it. Boy parts. Clear as... well, as clear as an ultrasound can be, but yes. Boy parts.

For July

Several of my friends are doing a 30 day workout challenge for July. I'm doing ok to just get my Tues/Thurs yoga in, so I decided to do a different challenge, inspired by something my husband said months ago.

He had a great idea. For Scarborough Faire, I wear the same costume every weekend, and so I wear the same makeup every weekend. It's a stage show, though closer than most theaters, but I still wear more dramatic makeup than I would in real life. Except after so many years doing Faire, my ideas of what is & isn't dramatic have changed quite a bit. Which is a bit off topic. J suggested that I take a picture of my makeup every day. Well, my face, with makeup on it, so I could see how things changed through the season, though the goal was the same look all the time. It was a brilliant and wonderful idea. That I never followed through on.

So for July, I've got this idea that I can make an effort to WEAR all the makeup that I own, not at the same time of course, but actually use all the fantastic colors of eyeshadow that are lurking in my bathroom, and I'll take pictures. For July. Ok, it's not that exciting in text, but I'm excited about it. Also, I swear I am not a pusher for Sephora, Ulta, Urban Decay or MAC. I just... like them. I'll try to include links to anything that's still purchasable now, but I'm sucker for limited edition things, so that's a fair chunk of what I'll be trying to wear this month. Anyway, here's what I got for Monday & Tuesday.

Monday:
Well, to be honest, Monday I had a spare 15 month old around and only got 30 minutes of coordinated napping, which I used to sit on the couch & play Candy Crush for a bit, so it was kind of a wash. First day and failing already. Maybe I'll include August 1st to make up for it. Maybe not.

Tuesday:
The Tools:
MAC Beauty Powder in Briar Rose*
Sephora Glitter Eyeshadow (loose) in... a color I can't see the name of because I glued a magnet over it to stick it to my makeup board. But it's a golden ivory type color.
Sephora Smudge/eyeliner brush
Sephora Glitter eyeshadow... spatula
Urban Decay Glide on Eyeliner in Rockstar
Fresh mascara in Firebird*
NYX Jumbo Eye Pencil in Milk

 So, I used the NYX pencil as a cream-style base, which is a trick I shamelessly stole from Ginger. Not that I am lacking in eyeshadow primers. I think I currently only have the NARS Smudge-Proof eyeshadow base  which I used out at Faire, and it completely stood the test of heat, sweat, 12+ hours outside in Texas and I love it. Worth the money for sure. But I don't want to use my fancy stuff when no one but my husband & toddler will be seeing me. Also NotBagels, but you know, still. So, a $5 option was a good one to try. I used it this weekend and finally really liked a couple of eyeshadows that I have loved from a distance for years, but never loved on my face.  So, that's what I've got as a base. Due to the light & glittery nature of the eyeshadow (which I can no longer find on the Sephora website), today I have very white eyelids. I used the MAC blush as a contour type color in my crease and then eyeliner that's sort of brownish purple and mascara. Not fancy, but the overall effect is very... 70's disco? 90's Clueless? I dunno. I think I might try the glitter over another color, instead of white. You can't see in the picture how sparkly it is, but trust me, there is glitter up on my face. But I love glitter, so I'm sure I'll come back to this. Also, let me just rave about my glitter spatula. It is made of silicon or rubber or some other fabulous glitter-attracting material and you pat it in the loose glitter, then pat it on your face and... the glitter sticks to your face. It's pretty nifty. I've been very pleased with that little single-use brush purchase. It works with other loose powders too and when I have a sticky base & I'm not concerned about blending on the lid, when I want just color there, it's a good tool for that. Remember that natural is not my thing. So anyway, this didn't turn out too bad for all that.

**

*The MAC blush was a super limited edition that was practically sold out in the pre-order phase and it's from the Villains collection and you will see LOTS from that collection pop up this month because I basically bought everything with Maleficent on it and it's all beautiful colors that I haven't figured out how to wear yet. Also the Fresh mascara was from a little duo sample size thingy with "supernova" and "firebird" as the two formulas of mascara. I like them. They're purse-sized.

**Someday I will have blogging stuff that lets me put pictures right where I want them. Someday. Recommendations welcome, but remember my level of technical know-how is limited to the use of "thingies" and "whatchamabobbers"

Tiny clothes of all varieties (and a lot of caps lock)

So, my sister B is having a huge fundraising garage/yard sale thingy to raise money for the Leukemia Lymphoma Society Run that she's doing. Since I do a closet purge twice a year anyway, this is a perfect motivator to get it done early. Plus, it's just a few days after the ultrasound where a hopefully cooperative Clover will stop being a squirmy squid for long enough for us to get a look at the business district thus clarifying the lady baby/not lady baby question.

However, because it's only a few days after said ultrasound, I don't want to wait until we get "fetus with a penis" green or red light to sort through the 4 gigantic boxes of baby clothes sitting in Eleanor's closet. So I'm pre-sorting. Which is leading to lots of piles.
There's a nostalgic/family heirloom pile for the things I just can't part with (and right now, it's impressively small. So, you know, go me!).
There's a pile of "things from the Internet to pass on to my other Internet friend having a lady baby 2 weeks before Clover arrives."
There's a pile of things that need to be re-washed due to some mysteriously appearing stains after being in storage for a year.
There's a pile of things to go to B immediately.
There's a pile of stuff to go to B only if this baby is a boy.
There's a pile of gender neutral stuff that I'll keep no matter what.

Speaking of which, deciding if something is gender neutral has been harder than I imagined. It's not just about colors, though the majority of Eleanor's pink stuff is covered in flowers, butterflies, hearts, ruffles, lace, and things that say "girl" or "princess" or whatever. That's fairly obvious. It's things that look girly because they're surrounded by girl things. A black onesie with purple stitching can totally be worn by a boy baby. I just had to move it over to the pile of green, blue, yellow, orange and red things to see it as a boy shirt. Next to all the pink, purple, lacy, ruffled stuff, it looked too girly. Also, I remember my little girl wearing it, so sometimes it's hard to picture a boy baby wearing it instead. And this isn't to open some huge can of worms about gender politics or preferences, or any of that*. Just trying to get some clothes sorted.

Then I went to sort our laundry because the pile is about to become sentient and eat me alive in my sleep. Usually I sort things into 2 categories--sheeets/towels/linens & everything else. It all gets washed on cold, regular and we go from there. I don't have anything super delicate or whatever that needs special attention. Or if I do, I'm not doing that. I have a very blunt no-fuss attitude towards clothes. Some things get laid flat/hung to dry and that's the extent of effort I'm willing to put in. (This is why we can't have nice things)

However, I've been frustrated recently by a strange laundry phenomenon. Due to some unexplained hijinx in the putting-clothes-into-the-hamper arena, when I grab a pile of laundry to wash, things tend to wind up very... disproportional. Most loads are 93% J's clothes, 6% my clothes and 1% miscellaneous baby socks & whatnot. Now, seeing as how both Eleanor & I own AT LEAST 3 times as much clothing as my husband, EACH (and that's without exaggerating), I'm not sure quite how this is possible. SO, I decided to sort things into his/hers/mine piles. I wound up with 3 loads of J clothes. 1.5 loads on my clothes. 1 load of Eleanor clothes and 1 load each of sheets and towels.

Then I loaded up he washing machine and it wouldn't turn on, at which point I panicked and flailed and thought some really bad words until I remembered that I had unplugged it to plug in the vacuum so I could clean my car yesterday, but lo and behold the thing was still plugged in. I tested the garage door opener that shares an outlet and IT worked. I tried switching which plug was in which hole and that didn't help. Then I discovered that I hadn't unplugged the washing machine directly. I'd unplugged a power strip/surge protector thingy that it was plugged into. Flipped the switch on that and BEHOLD! The clothes began to wash. Hooray.

And while I'm talking about clothes, I'm going to rant about pants some more, because I don't do that enough. One of the benefits of losing some weight in between babies is that I finally bumped down into the "able to buy maternity pants that fit my butt and touch my toes" section. I hoped this was the case, and dragged my husband & baby to a maternity store to test my theory. I tried on the exact pants that I tried to buy last time I was all knocked up and could barely get above my knees and this time! THEY FIT! HOORAY! I shall buy all the pants! Except, no. Because they only had 1 pair on XL Long in stock. ONE PAIR. Now, to be fair, there are only 2 styles of pants that come in long length in that store, and it's summer when most people want shorts or crops anyway. But I already have 2 pairs of maternity capri pants. I wanted JEANS. It was going to be my TRIUMPH. So, I was going to get this one pair of jeans, only... and there's always an only with me, they're skinny jeans. Now, nevermind the mind-bend of ME buying something labeled "Skinny." Let's leave the terminology alone and just talk about the style. I know lots of ladies who wear skinny jeans and IN THEORY but I'd never actually put any on my body. I resist even "straight leg." I prefer bootcut, though I own no boots that I would put under my pants to necessitate ownin bootcut jeans. I just like the look of them. Something about balancing my extra wide hips and general pear** shapedness. Nevertheless, I bought the pants because... well... TRIUMPH! I then proceeded to call every store that carried that brand of maternity pants within a reasonable driving distance (and since I go to Ft. Worth often enough to see my folks, that distance is about 50 miles, at least to the west) to see if ANYONE had the bootcut in an XL Long. Nope. No. Not a single one. XS Long, sure. But that's the wrong Extra. So. I have skinny jeans. And the over-the-belly-panel starts at roughly my c-section scar, which is much lower than I'm comfortable with, but my shirts cover it all anyway, so I'm just going to sit back and enjoy my TRIUMPH! Pants!

*Babies and gender is a much bigger topic and one I'll probably not tackle on the internet, but rather just discuss with my friends over beverages of deliciousness, but here. A picture of Eleanor in a pink & purple dress her grandparents bought her in Greece, playing with trucks.

**Why oh why is it that when things go horribly wrong, they're said to have gone "pear shaped"? If I could work up the G.A.S. I'd be offended, I think. 

Totally in denial

The other day, I got a great compliment. 2 ladies whom I love, when I turned down an alcoholic beverage, said, "Oh, I forgot you were pregnant." This is nice for me to hear, as it confirms my belief that I am more than just a fetus-growing apparatus.  My life is about more than just making a baby, but it's still nice to hear that from people who see me on a regular basis. Then, at a restaurant, I was talking to the mother of another toddler while our progeny played in the waiting area, and she asked if we had thought about having any more kids. I said I was due in November and she said I didn't even look pregnant! Hooray!

Now I'm going to do nothing but talk about myself and my fetus, so you know... there's that.

Last time I did this whole pregnant thing, I didn't take any pictures of myself until around 22 weeks. I just couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that I was getting bigger. Because of the shape of my hudge, I never had a round belly, so I never felt like I looked identifiably pregnant until... 37, 38 weeks. In denial, I know.

So this time around, I'm trying to take more pictures. And this time around I'm seeing the difference in pictures that I don't register daily with my eyeballs.

6 weeks-why so yellow?

14 weeks

18 weeks

So now I've gotten to the point where I'm not really comfortable hiding the hudge anymore. I still don't feel like I look pregnant--possibly because what is sticking out is the reorganization of my intestines, spleen, and liver, not baby yet. Honestly, I feel like I look like I did before I lost all the weight that I put on before getting pregnant the first time. In the midst of a quite successful (for me) round of Biggest Blogging Loser, 10 weeks into a 12 week weight loss thingy, I peed on a stick, and thus stopped trying to lose weight. Now, due to some first trimester hijinx, I didn't stop losing right away. I have managed to hold steady since my 8 week appointment, which pleases me. If I can make it to the third trimester with the majority of my 11-20 lbs still to gain, that would be great. I managed it with Eleanor, and that's the only reason that I was able to be back at my pre-pregnancy weight the day after I got home from the hospital. 11 lbs gained, minus 8.5 lb baby, fluid, etc., etc., etc. Wow, I've really gotten off topic now. 

I'm trying to wear things that help bridge the gap from feeling "just fat" to looking "halfway pregnant." Well, I'm all the way pregnant, but halfway through the process, ish, in 2 weeks. Anyway, I've stopped trying to hide the hudge and now I'm trying to accentuate the hudge. This is... still a foreign concept to me. I look in the mirror and don't see any differences. I look at these pictures and realize how much my brain is lying to me. Also that I seem to have my dress on backwards in one of them... hrmmm

Also, on Saturday I felt little squirmy squid squirm. It's just as neat this time as it was last time. Hooray!

Here at 18 weeks, Clover is clocking in at approximately 7oz, and roughly the size of a bell pepper. So sayeth my e-mail. Other than still being more tired than I'd like, I'm feeling pretty good these days. Eating better, and feeling like eating more. I'm trying to be more consistent with my yoga too, especially since I've been noticing more soreness as muscles start moving out of the way and all that jazz. 

Party Tricks

So, most days when Eleanor is around, she spends her time doing tricks. She's learning so much that it seems there's always something new to show someone.

Things she does consistently--
Signs "please" and "milk" and "all done"
Turns on her sound-machine giraffe in the middle of the night to soothe herself
Dances when she hears music
Takes things out of containers and now puts them back in
Walk (though she still crawls some too)
Hooray! Arms: She throws both arms in the air when you say "Hooray!" (See above)


Things she does sometimes, when the mood strikes her--
Sign "Food"
Sing to her food, her toys, her feet
Takes a second nap*
Give kisses or hugs

Things she will not do, no matter how hard I try--
Stay still long enough for me to get a picture of her first freckle. It's behind  her right ear. It's adorable. It's... unphotographable.
Talk to anyone on the phone. She just looks at the picture on the screen and waves

*This nap thing is... stressful. She seems to NEED two naps a day, but frequently will only take one. She sleeps for about an hour and a half in the morning (and trying to push that nap back to a more afternoonish time has been wholly unsuccesful) and then get fussy, sleepy at normal afternoon nap time, only to spend 90 minutes fussing, not sleeping. Then she get us, plays, has dinner, bath, bottle, and sleeps soundly for 12 hours... so, you know... it's not all bad, just... stressful.

13 months and 13 weeks

In case you are not either:
a) my family
2) my Twitter buddy
D) my Facebook friend

allow me to say "Welcome!" and also, hey, I'm pregnant. Again.

Eleanor, in her announcement onesie and fluffy skirt

So, first, lemme tell you about the amazing things my external baby has been doing. 13 months old. She's walking now. WALKING! She sort of Frankensteins around (by which I mean moves like Frankenstein's monster, not the doctor himself) and still drops down to crawl now and then, but her balance is improving daily and it's really neat to watch. She's signing more consistently--all done and please are the two big ones right now. She can sign milk, but doesn't use it to ask for it, but more to let me know she knows she's drinking it. She's getting 4 teeth right now, molars or bicuspids of some sort and that's been... exciting. Still, she's pretty great and I think we'll keep her.

Second, 13 weeks pregnant. Well, 12w4d, but I'm rounding up for symmetry. Official due date is November18th. It has been an uneventful and easy first trimester. No real morning sickness to speak of, just vague queasiness and the pervasive feeling that no food is ever going to be good ever, until it's in front of me, and then hey look! FOOD! Like last time, I have the super-sniffer so I can smell everything everywhere, which is possibly also why food never sounds good. I'm hoping that goes away soon, though I did have a dream that featured rocky road ice cream, with cupcake flavored Magic Shell and caramel sauce, so that's maybe a good sign. I've been more tired than I remember being last time around. I'm napping when Eleanor does and needing every second of it. Really, that's all there is to tell I think. We found out on St. Patrick's Day (while I was in the middle of Biggest Blogging Loser, which helped explain why I was having such a hard time making myself eat), so in theory, we're calling this internal baby Clover, though after yesterday's ultrasound (sonogram, I don't know that I ever did figure out the difference), we've been calling him/her Squid, for he/she was a squirmy squid. Also, vaguely alien-looking. Of course. 

Never quite gone

When I was younger, I used to say that I had a cooking grandma and a sewing grandma and if I could just get the two of them to merge I'd have the perfect stereotypical grandma. The truth is more complicated than that. My Grandma Jonte is the sewing grandma, though my favorite cookie recipe is one I got from her. I made some for Granddad's memorial. Some butterscotch and some chocolate. When telling Grandma about making the substitution to turn her butterscotch drops into chocolate drops, one of my aunts, possibly my uncle, laughed. Apparently Grandma had made the substitution to butterscotch from a chocolate recipe in the first place because Granddad liked it better. So, you know. The substitution gene comes to me honestly. Also, I remember one time Grandma made gingerbread. Like, actual bread, gingerbread. It was dark like molasses and delicious and served warm with a lemon glaze and I hope I can find that recipe.

So, you see, my sewing grandma was a great cook too. But to me, she was always the one with needle and thread. To her, sewing was both practical and a hobby. I can't tell you the number of dresses I wore that she made for me. My favorite is probably the dress I wore as the flower girl in my Aunt Dorothy's wedding. It was purple, had ruffles, and I got to wear it with my first pair of high heels (much to my father's dismay). Eleanor has worn clothes that were handed down to me by my mom, made by not only her (Eleanor's) great-grandma, but MY great-grandma too. I learned to cross stitch when I was 10 or so, because it's what Grandma did. I was never very good at it, but I always admired the beautiful framed pieces she had hanging about. Landscapes are what I remember most, and one of a Siamese cat--grey point ears and blue eyes. She did a cross stitch name thingy--my name vertically, with little ballet bunnies on the letters. On my couch, there are two throw pillows that Grandma made for one of my birthdays. They're purple and each has a different pattern crocheted on the front. Grandma was handy with all kinds of needles. I know I took one of those pillows with me when I went to Washington D.C. in 8th grade. I wrote my name on the back. Sometime last year, Jeremy took a Sharpie and changed Boswell to Boswelch. There's yellow glow-in-the-dark puff paint on the other pillow, because it was the 90s.   Everywhere I look in my house, I see evidence of Grandma's love. The quilt she made as a wedding gift--all purples and greens. The quilt my great aunt started that Grandma finished. It's a cat pattern. It's in Bagel's room right now. There are pot holders in the kitchen & one of her skirts in my closet, the one she wore to Aunt Dorothy's high school graduation, though not one she made.

The past year, I've gotten to spend a lot of time with my grandma. She moved in with my folks after Granddad died, and when my folks had to travel, Eleanor and I would pack up and head out to the Weatherford Spa. Seriously, my folks house is great and feels like a retreat. Huge kitchen, fully stocked pantry, pool, soaker tub, 500 channels of cable. Grandma and I would read in our chairs when the baby napped. I'd cook dinner and learned that aside from chicken/turkey, milk and red wine, Grandma likes all the food. I definitely get my sweet tooth from her. Her blue eyes are part of the reason Eleanor got to keep her blue eyes instead of turning hazel/brown like the rest of my family. Of course, the E in Eleanor is also partially for the middle name that my mom & I share, which is an E because of her mom and grandma. Not too long ago, Grandma decided that "Grandma Jonte" was too much of a mouthful, and "Great Grandma" wasn't much better, so she asked that we teach Eleanor to call her GG. She loved that little girl so much. Of her 5 great-grandchildren, Eleanor was the only one who lived close enough to be seen on a regular basis. I know how lucky we were to have so much time to spend together. Eleanor took her first steps holding on to Grandma's walker. Grandma stood up with us at Eleanor's dedication.

So, even though my grandma is gone, she's still everywhere I look. In my baby, and in my house, and in my heart.

Eleanor, to sum up

Eleanor, the first year. In motion, and in collage. Ta-da.

Pink, it's my new obsession

Well, pink has become an increasingly large part of my life over the past few years. First, when I joined Queen Anne's Lace and became The Pink One, or rather, the PANK One. I never really had a problem with pink, but I never gravitated towards it either. Then came Eleanor, and suddenly all my pink accessories were dual function as I started covering my baby girl in all sorts of roses and bows. Now I'm back at Faire, and on Sundays, I have Eleanor with me. Yes, she has a costume too. She has a mini-me costume, made from scraps of one of my skirts and a mini-Diva costume, made with scraps from her Diva Godmother's skirt. It's adorable. And mostly it's just nice to not have to spend two whole days away from her.

Except this weekend I did. She had a bit of a rough week. She's got a molar or bicuspid or some sharp-but-not-an-incisor tooth coming in. Her nose was a little runny. She gave her naps the finger. So, thanks to the kindness of Bagels and Kammah, Eleanor stayed home on Sunday to attempt to have a more normal day than being dragged around Faire in fluffy skirts. So, I spent some time on Sunday saying how much I missed her, but Bagels texted me pictures and that made things better. We had stunningly perfect weather all weekend, some appreciative crowds, and more than twice I laughed hard enough that I was in danger of needing a change of clothes, so I call that a win.

Also, I met Adam Richman of Man v. Food. Apparently, the Travel Channel was out at our Faire filming a... something. Not a Man v. Food, but something else? I don't know. We talked and sang at this nice man, I repeated myself for the camera, then signed a release form, so you know... maybe a few seconds of my face will end up on cable tv. I have to say, Adam was really charming and nice. Since there was a crowd of people watching him talking to us, he made sure to get our show times and tell the crowd to come see us sing, so that was neat. After meeting him, I want to see his show. Now, filming a tv show isn't all fun and games. I mean, I only every worked for broadcast news, but my degree is in broadcast journalism, so I do have some small idea of what goes on. Well, really, so do lots of people, but what I'm trying to say is that getting B roll can be a pain in the butt if you're part of it. Which is what I expected to be when the promotional director lady for Scarborough Renaissance Festival asked us, Queen Anne's Lace to go walking about in the Pecan Grove around noon. We're brightly colored and fluffy and covered in ruffles, so we make a good picture. Visually interesting. And when they first turned the cameras on us, I thought, hooray! Here we are, bright, colorful B roll. Then Adam saw us and hijinks ensued. But for lots of other folks, there was just some repetitive "doing stuff for a moving background while we interview people over here" thing.

Since Eleanor was at home on Sunday (still giving her naps the finger apparently), I got to go up on the Tart Shelf, which is what the Lace does at the end of the day. We hang out on the balcony above the souvenir shop in just corsets, chemises, and bloomers--the Renaissance equivalent of stripping down to your underwear--and wave goodbye to the patrons. "Goodnight! Thanks for coming! Come again!" Each weekend, one lady from the cast gets invited to come up and join us as Tart of the Day. It was very exciting for me when I was just a cast lady, and it's still fun from the other side. It's a bit of a makeover, and that's always fun to be a part of.

The rest of life has been delightfully mundane. I've been working on a video montage thingy of Eleanor's 1st year, and a photo collage and as soon as I can get those presentable, I'll share for those who want to oogle my baby.  For now, I'll just put these up here, because she looks so fantastic in her Penny clothes!

12 Months

You guys, we did it. We survived an entire year! And I won't be doing monthly updates for a while. Which means I might have to remember how to write about other things. I might even get around to telling you all about my "naptime crafts" just as soon as I start doing them again.

The Vitals:
29.25" tall (60th percentile, which I think is a touch inaccurate, because she's the tallest baby I know and she was pretty squirmy at her check up)
21lb 4.5oz (70th percentile... yeah, that I'll buy)
Her head is in the 85th percentile, she still has 6 teeth, including the broken one which does resemble a shark tooth, so that's nice.

1 year

1 week

Highlights:
Faire!
Easter!
Cake!
Just scroll to the pictures, it was a fun month

little rock star

breakfast cupcake

bonnet and basket

bunny butt

Skills:

um... she does stuff?
She claps now.
And sticks her tongue out.
Takes steps, but not really walking.
Says "mamama" and "dadada" at semi-appropriate times so that she might actually mean me & J when she says it, but it's sketchy at best
Nods and says "cha" to every question ever




Works in Progress:
walking
talking
going to college and leaving me all alone with the cats

hand towels are perfectly sized

She likes:
purses
keys
cheese
baths
music

She dislikes:
having her nails trimmed


I like:
Her adorable clothes
Her adorable face

I dislike:
That she is swiftly turning into a toddler--still my baby for now though.

I will do a separate post all about her party and her trip to Faire and all that jazz.

1 year of fluff and stuff

For reference, this is where we started...

11 months

After this, only one more to go guys!
11 months! My friend Modern Day Martha's little girl turned 1, which is... crazy. That means Eleanor will be 1 in a month and my brain doesn't know how to process that information.

The Vitals:
20lb 8oz (not much change)
28.5" (again, not much change)
6 teeth (no change)
For having a whole lot of no change, she sure seems to have grown a lot. I switched out a bunch of clothes, so that means she must be bigger somehow. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

The Highlights:
North Texas Irish Festival--all beshamrocked.
Another week spent in Weatherford with my grandma, who wants to be called Gigi, to avoid confusion with my mother, who is Grandma now.
I ran away to Arizona for a weekend and she did just fine without me. I did pretty ok without her too, so that's good news.
Baptism & baby dedication






Skills:
Standing. On her own. Only when *she* wants to, and never if she realizes you realize she's doing it.
Signing "milk" but usually only when she's already drinking, so I'm not sure that's as useful as it could be
Making a smooch noise in your general direction in response to you making a smooch noise at her
Waving! Finally!

Works In Progress:
Blowing kisses--if we can combine the waving & the smooch noise, we should be nearly there
Hi 5--she holds her hand up but hasn't learned that she needs to DO something yet
Walking? Maybe? No, not really. Not yet.

She likes:
Mandarin oranges. Oh my, how did I wait this long to give them to her? She's a citrus fiend!
Blowing raspberries.
People
The camera
Anything with a cord, or a screen, or buttons (her father's daughter)

She dislikes:
when you take away anything with a cord, or a screen or buttons
tuna salad

I like:
letting her chase me around the house. She is remarkably fast on her hands & knees
watching her play with her reflection
seeing the faces she makes when trying new foods
when she sings & plays in her crib

I dislike:
when she decides to skip her nap and spend 2 hours singing in her crib

anyway, 11 months!

Fake eyelashes and imaginary friends

I have friends on the internet. It's 2013. Can we just accept that? Yes? Good!

I spent the weekend with my friends from the internet. Most of them I'd met before. It was the first time I'd been away from my baby for more than 12 hours, so that was a little daunting, but it went really well. My flight out was on time and uneventful. I was picked up at the airport by a couple of Amazons from the Far North and Kammah. We had lunch where our waiter, Francisco, was easily 6'7" tall.

We went to the party house, where I waved at and hugged some people, then hung out and put out snacks for folks to eat when the "official" party got started at 4.

Then I hung out some more, hugged and waved at more people, ate more snacks and went to bed after midnight, which, you know, never really happens to me. Or hasn't happened in many, many months. It's hard to describe how wonderful it was, because we didn't really... DO anything. We just moved around and talked. But that's sort of the beauty of it. You could walk up to any conversation in progress, sit down, and join in eventually. Kelly did live book reviews that had us all laughing. There was an edible fruit arrangement, which was delicious except for one thing. There were marshmallow-looking things that were in fact white chocolate covered bananas. Stealth bananas. Thankfully the deception would crumble as soon as you touched one, but then you touched it and who wants to eat the thing you already put your grimy paws on, so you've wasted a perfectly edible something that someone else might have wanted to eat, all because you thought it was a marshmallow. It wasn't a marshmallow, but I didn't pick it up, so I guess none of that really matters. There were plenty of marshmallows on Saturday, and I ate them.

I slept nearly 7 whole hours without disturbance, so that's sort of the highlight of my trip right there. Breakfast was had, then I put on real pants and went in search of a salad with Noemi and the Amazons. This is where Apple maps screwed us over, and somehow I had the data settings on my map all wonky and couldn't get Google to help. Anyway, we drove, following the directions provided to two completely useless locations before finally finding the Chili's we were searching for, and then I had a trio of tiny margaritas. And went to Target and bought a pair of yoga lounge pants on clearance. Exciting, right?

We en-purpled the house. I stopped mid-application of some truly ridiculous eye makeup (teal smokey-esque eye with fake eyelashes! for no reason other than I could! Fun!) to learn how to make the crack dip. It was as delicious as I remembered. People arrived in their pajamas. Kelly revealed the amazing cake. We sat around and talked some more until the wee hours of morning. I want to mention everyone, because I got to talk to everyone (the beauty of a small gathering) and it was nice. I spent a lot of time stealing kisses from Louis, Lynnette's beautiful baby boy, and hearing horrible dating stories from Julia. Erica and I talked about Wheel of Time & Game of Thrones and we may not be book buddies, but we're gonna give it a shot. I met Amanda, who is the new target of my "move to Texas because I like you" mind beams. Seriously Amanda. Move to Texas. Your people are here. We teased the Canadian. We were reasonable ladies having a good time in a low-pressure high-fun setting. Pjs really is a breeze to attend. Kelly is a great hostess who puts so much thought and effort into throwing a great party and makes it seem like it all just happens like magic.

I have more pictures on my actual camera, but I out-smarted myself. I didn't bring the cord that lets me get the pictures to a computer, because I knew I wasn't going to have a computer in AZ, but now I don't know where it is, so enjoy this thingamajigger for now.

Personalize a free picture collage

10 months

This one snuck up on me. Mostly because I forgot what day it was, or rather, was mightily confused about the way the calendar worked. I had it in my head that Saturday was the 6th, so Eleanor would be 10 months on Sunday. Except Saturday is the 9th. So she was 10 months yesterday. Oops.

The Vitals
6 teeth now! (4 top, 2 bottom for those keeping track, which is to say, me)

Highlights
J's birthday party game night was a blast and E was quite the little charmer. We attended our friend Ben's baptism & 1st brithday party. Eleanor was quite the little crank pants because she missed her morning nap and then refused to sleep anywhere but her own bed. Party pooper.
She moved to her crib. Or rather, we finally assembled the crib instead of just having her sleep in the co-sleeper in pack and play mode in her own room.

Skills:
Chewing on everything--tables, couches, toes (not ONLY her own), elbows (not her own), the dog (who is too dumb patient to move)
Squatting--like she actually bends her knees to sit down now instead of just falling over
Standing as long as a) no one is watching, 2) she doesn't realize it
Squnch face!

 Works in Progress:
She spent the past month mostly getting teeth at a somewhat alarming rate so hasn't made much progress in the walking or standing unassisted arena
She understands some words now. More than recognizing her name. Mostly short sentences with hand gestures. Come here. Give that to me. She also knows what areas of the house are off limits, because she GRINS right at us when she starts crawling that way.
Waving. We don't wave much so while she has the hand motion, she doesn't really connect it with much right now. Although on our walk yesterday, she waved at all the cars as they passed.
High-five. She won't give them, but if you give her one, she giggles like mad


She likes:
Tormenting Puca. She chases him around the house. It shouldn't be a fair fight. He's a fast dog but he just lets her crawl all over him. Best dog in the whole wide world, ok?
Exploring every nook and cranny of the house
Crunchy foods
Splashing (She's started doing this very scary thing where she gets so excited during bath time that she laugh and leans all the way forward until her face is in the water and then sits up so fast she starts to tip over. Non-slip mats are no match for my daughter's enthusiasm)
Crawling under things
Shiny things like car keys and watches

She dislikes:
Certain unidentifiable random configurations of air molecules--I don't know. Sometimes she's fine, everything is great, and then WOE! Wailing! and then, poof, fine again

I like:
making her laugh
going for walks
Watching her play with other babies

I dislike:
Not knowing how to comfort her when she's sick. Man, I'll be so excited when she's old enough for a decongestant.

Anyway, it was a quick month and I can hardly believe her birthday is in 2 months.

The story of the butter knife

One should not get weepy over a butter knife. I think it's safe to say that emotional displays over cutlery are generally discouraged, though I was rather excited when I received a set of giraffe print knives. Still, there is a story as to why I found myself misty-eyed over a butter knife.

When I was (a young warthog) younger, I took for granted that every kitchen had all the same things. I assumed everyone had a blender like ours, an avocado green KitchenAid stand mixer, a Cuisinart (which I always want to spell with a q), a toaster and butter knives. Not just any butter knives, the kind that we had. They weren't actually butter knives, but rather perfect little spatulas, but I didn't know that when I was little. They were the things I used to spread stuff on bread, therefore they were butter knives. My mom had some. My grandma had some. So obviously, everyone must have them.

When I moved out on my own, my mother loaded me up with many things--hand-me-down everythings that served me perfectly well (some still reside in this house), but no butter knives. Surely just an oversight. I halfheartedly looked for some when I was out shopping for other household things but never found the right ones. I had plenty of ACTUAL butter knives. What I wanted was the perfect little spatula thingies. I never did find them.

Fast forward many, many years, to last year, when my granddad died. He did not die from a tragic butter knife/spatula related injury, but the two are related, I promise.

At Granddad's memorial, my Uncle Mike set up a table full of... well, granddad stuff. It had rocks and train stuff, and the Route 66 shirt Grandma made, his hat, his awards, his walking stick, and... some butter knives. I was puzzled. In the mingling and meandering about time before the service, I remarked to my brother, "Hey, look. Butter knives?" He just nodded and said there was a bit about it in the eulogy my mom and her siblings had put together (that my brother was reading).

Ok, you guys... I know they're not butter knives. I did eventually learn that they were spatulas. But, I thought, surely they were cooking spatulas. Like frosting spatulas or something.

Nope. They're chemistry spatulas. My granddad brought them home from the lab. We also had pharmacy spatulas (black handle, not wooden, tapered tip) that my dad brought home from HIS lab.

SCIENCE! Cooking is science and we had the tools to prove it.

Anyway, that's the story of the butter knife. It's a chemistry spatula. Now you know why I get misty and nostalgic when making peanut butter toast.

9 months

This baby is blurry. That's the best way to put it. She's always in motion and man, I need a faster camera!

The Vitals:

Fresh from the doctor's office, the official numbers are:

19lb 15.5oz--can we just call that 20 and be good? Yes? Yes. (80%)

28.25" (80%)

So, she got her first tooth just 2 days after turning 8 months and now has 2 and a half teeth. Bottom right & top left. Top right seems not far behind.

Highlights:

Conked out after her first Christmas

Christmas! Snow! New Years! The Zoo! Teeth! Sleeping! It was a very full month.

Skills: 

Standing on everything (and sometimes with shockingly little assistance)

Transferring from one thing to another

Crawling on all fours (quite speedily)
Signing "milk"... sort of (She makes the sign. I'm not sure yet she knows what it means)

Works in Progress:

Standing--can stand unaided for just about a second, which is why this picture is so blurry

Cruising on furniture

Walking--though she's figuring out the stepping thing, and will sometimes do it while we're holding her hands

She likes:

All the food

All the people

Things that make noise
Chasing us down the hallway
Walks
Rain (really water of any sort at this point)

Playing with her stuff while I putter around

Watching me vacuum & dry my hair (the fear of the noise was short-lived), put on make-up, get dressed, do anything really

She dislikes:

Ear infections
Teething
Not getting to eat lint/cat hair/dog hair/paper/tinfoil/anything she can get her wee hands on

I like:
SLEEEEEEEEEEEP!
She gives hugs now. She is so interactive! She crawls to us when we call her name. She lunges at us with the best goofy grin. She is a happy, happy baby who likes to do stuff. I feel like I should have more to say, because it's been such a great time. She's sleeping better. She's mimicking us and while it's not words, her knack for making the right sounds at the right time is really neat. 

I dislike:

How fast this is all going. Also, putting away her too-tiny clothes. It's all so cute. Thankfully, she inherited a big box of equally cute stuff from Penny, and her aunts and grandmas keep her well dressed. 

Eyelashes

There is no substance to this post, but for many hours a day, I stare at my daughter and marvel at her amazing eyelashes. My brilliant and talented sister B took this picture (when we dumped the baby at her house and ran off to watch a Bond movie. Weee!). It's no secret that I wanted a blue-eyed baby. Not that they are in any way superior to babies of other eye colors, but I'm a sucker for blue eyes, and it was sort of a genetic long-shot since there aren't a lot of blue eyed genes running around my side of the family, but we won the luck of that draw it seems. She has the same blue-grey eyes as her daddy. Those eyelashes? Those are all J too!

Reindeer Brownies

I'm blogging a recipe. Again. Like I think I'm some sort of food blogger. Except food bloggers take better pictures. Oh well.

But ok, seriously. I'm a little bit proud of this. It's not just some recipe I found. Well, I did find the recipe. In a cookbook I've had since I was 18 and is always useful. The other night, hanging out with KammahPants and someone said brownies, so I made brownies. From scratch. Which I've never done before, because honestly, a box of brownies is so easy! But I didn't have a box of brownies. I did have a ridiculous amount of flour* and some sugar though. And cocoa. That's important too. Anyway, I made the brownies and they were... ok. Not bad at all, but not really all that great. Certainly not chocolatey enough for me. So I thought and thought and thought and thought and thought** about what to do to make them better. I tweaked the recipe, tested it, then doubled it, stuffed it in some mason jars that I decorated, and TA-DA! Christmas crafts!

So, Reindeer Brownies (Adapted from the "Where's Mom now that I need her" cookbook)

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or margarine
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
3/4 cup flour
1/4 cup cocoa
1/2 cup chocolate chips (I used milk the first time, and a mix of semi-sweet & white when I made the jars)

Melt butter. Mix in sugar. Add eggs one at a time, beating well. Mix flour & cocoa together and add slowly to the sugary butter mix. It won't be super stiff but that's ok. It's good. Trust me. Fold in the chips. Put it all in a greased & floured 8x8 pn. Bake at 350 for 25-30 minutes.

Here's the beauty of it--these brownies hardly have edges. The edge pieces are almost as soft as the center. The edges are cake-like. The center is fudgy and you could easily eat the whole pan before it cools. Just warning you.


*My husband went on a bread-making bender when we inherited a bread machine. Yay! But now we have all purpose, self rising, whole wheat & two different kinds of bread flour. That's a lotta flour!


**Ouch! (Shiloh, he didn't think that hard)

Smore Chow

Ever since I discovered cookie butter--or Biscoff spread, as they sell it in my grocery store--I've been wanting to substitute it for peanut butter in a number of dessert recipes. My friend Kathleen remarked that it tasted like graham crackers. I think it's the love child of a graham cracker and a ginger snap. Regardless, it's delicious. But the graham cracker comment got us thinking of smores, because everything is better with chocolate and marshmallows, right?

First, we took a spoonful of cookie butter and stirred it into a mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. It was lovely.

Then, I decided to make puppy chow--that stuff with chex mix covered in powdered sugar.

Oh, Internet. Forgive me my arrogance. I thought puppy chow was easy, like Rice Krispie treats. I thought you just melted stuff, stirred in other stuff and it was idiot proof. Well, I managed to mess it up.

First of all, and I'm not passing the buck here but it must be said, I think I found the WORST recipe for puppy chow on the whole internet. I suppose it could have been worse if it didn't include measurements, but I didn't realize that I needed such specific instructions until I was already elbow deep in Chex. (Apparently there's a recipe on the box? But I had chocolate Chex, and I didn't even think to look for a recipe there.)

So, The Ingredients:
9 cups Chex cereal (This is the first part of the dumb--my box only had 8 cups in it)
1/4 cup butter (I used margarine)
1/2 cup peanut butter (and I used Biscoff spread, and this is beginning to look like I'm blaming a recipe that I didn't even follow, but just stick with me, ok? My real complaints come later, and have nothing to do with my numerous substitutions)
1/2 cup chocolate chips
1 1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla extract

The Instructions:
Melt chocolate chips, peanut butter and butter in sauce pan.
Remove from heat, add vanilla.
Stir in cereal.
Put powdered sugar in large ziplock bag. Add cereal mixture, shake until well coated.

Seems straight forward, yes? Even substituting margarine and cookie butter, things couldn't go too wrong, could they? Oh, but they DID! Maybe cookie butter doesn't melt as well as peanut butter. I will admit that could be part of the problem in this formula, and accept the blame accordingly. However, "melt" isn't very specific. Melt over high heat? Medium high? Not quite so medium high? Low? What temperature? I guessed--and oh did I guess wrong. First things started to boil before everything was melted, so there was much stirring and turning down the heat. Then I had a lump of slightly cooked chocolate chips and cookie butter and a mess of un-melted stuff. So I turned the heat up, but it was useless. The mess just sort of...congealed. It was the consistency of peanut butter, but grainy--like unsolidified fudge, which sounds tasty but was totally ineffective for my purposes.

I forged ahead. I removed from heat and added the vanilla. It...didn't improve things any. I added the cereal. I stirred for all I was worth. It sort of worked. Some of the cereal got coated. And it was chocolate Chex to begin with, so there was that. Then I had the brilliant idea to make this into S'more chow by adding marshmallows (about 1/2 a cup for those who might care). It sort of helped things get meltier and more like a dessert instead of a jumble of ingredients. I was feeling mostly defeated, so I dumped the lot into the ziplock bag with the powdered sugar and shook well. I shook and shook and shook and... Well, the result was edible.

Which is to say that in 2 days a gallon-sized ziplock bag was demolished in about 24 hours courtesy of one birthday pot luck and an afternoon watching Supernatural with Captain Kammahroo.

I'm still not impressed with the recipe, but I will take the blame for not knowing how hot to have the pan to melt the things. Live and learn, eh?

8 months

The Vitals
I don't know. She's napping at the moment, but she's big. 20lb ish? Tall-ish? (She woke up. 27", 20lb 3oz) She's still wearing mostly 6 month size stuff though, except for pants. Those are 9 month pants in the picture. 6 month pants are pretty much capris--which is fine as it's been mostly 80 degrees here in TX.

Highlights
The first Thanksgiving!
Getting to meet her Great-Gram!
20 days in Weatherford!

Skills
Sitting up--I mean, getting from her belly to sitting all by herself
Standing--still while holding things, only once did she let go, and like a cartoon stood there looking quite shocked until she realized what she was doing, and then promptly fell down.
Getting out of the Bumbo!
Pulling up (her favorite is in the bathtub--I KNOW!)
Pincher grip-which she has perfected by picking up (and sticking in her mouth) every bit of flotsam, jetsam, detritus and fluff on every surface everywhere.

Works In Progress
Standing by herself.
I don't think she gives two figs about crawling in the traditional sense. I think she's figured out the crawlooching and will go from here to terrorizing the animals on two feet.

She likes
All the food
Banging her spoon around
Chasing the animals around
Putting everything she can pinch into her mouth
BATHTIME!

She dislikes
Falling down. Man, learning to be mobile is hard and so are floors. No time like the present to learn that gravity sucks.
Leaving headbands on her head

I like
Knowing what will make her laugh
Seeing her learn new things everyday-- I watched her figure out that her hands were full the other day. I was on her right side and handed her a toy. She grabbed it with her right hand. I handed her another toy. She reached for it with her right hand, saw that her hand was full, transfered the toy to her left hand, and then grabbed the NEW toy with her right. Later that day, I did the same thing. This time she turned to grab the toy with her left hand. FASCINATING!

I dislike
The tears that come when she falls down
The sleeping thing. It's still hard.

It was a good month overall. I got some very sweet compliments from my sister-in-law and J's grandmother about how well behaved Eleanor was at Thanksgiving and that did my heart good. She smiles and laughs at everyone--well, most everyone. She's sort of figuring out that there are strangers. I'm seeing the beginnings of separation anxiety but it's not too bad yet. She chases me when I leave the room. Oh! And there's this thing with loud noises. They don't scare her--I mean, she doesn't run away from them. Of course, she can't run, but she crawlooches TOWARDS them. Which is to say she crawlooches towards me, when I'm vaccuming or drying my hair. She used to sleep right through those things, now she's fine as long as I'm holding her while doing it.

And here's the monthly "look how big she's gotten" picture.

for comparison, this is her at 8 days:

And then...

The past 24 hours have not been very good. They haven't been terrible, horrible, no good or very bad but they have not been very good either. That being said, there is humor and smiles to be had too.

Eleanor is learning about a million new things every minute*. This is wonderful and entertaining. What she is not doing is sleeping very well. So, of course, neither am I. The lens of sleep deprivation makes everything grainy and gritty and sometimes cranky.

Yesterday, I went down to clean the pool filters, since it's fall and there are leaves, well, FALLING everywhere but mostly in the pool. My parent's pool. I do not have a pool. Down to the (fabulous salt-water) pool to do the thing with the places where the leaves gather so the motor to the pump/filter/thingy doesn't burn out. Emptying these things is a Sisyphean task but you do what you do, right? This time it went pretty smoothly. An earthworm had gotten in the Velcro bag of the crawler dodad and that was kind of icky, but not as bad as the half-drowned spiders from a few days ago. Then comes the very satisfying part--I get to throw the crawler back into the shallow end of the pool. Hooray! Toss! Splash! But the cord part was still mostly on the side of the pool, so I went to kick it in. I missed. Try not to be surprised. My athletic prowess is... admirable. But! Wait! Not only did I miss the hose/cord completely, my shoe also flew off my foot and... yep. Right into the pool. Thankfully it floated long enough for me to retrieve it with the crowbar I use to fish the crawler out of the pool in the first place. Floating shoes are good for clumsy people.

Today, I wore lace up shoes. I wasn't going to make that mistake again. But this time, when I went to empty the basket of leaves, the basket was mostly empty. All the leaves were puddled up BESIDE the basket. Not in the basket. Just near it. This meant I spent some time with the net-on-a-pole scooping the leaves out. It was actually quite soothing in a Zen gardening kind of way. But what was in the basket? Not a spider. Not an earthworm. A mouse. A tiny mouse. A wee, morbidly cute mouse no bigger than my thumb. A mouse that upon closer inspection turned out to be a possum. A BABY possum. Now, there are lots of things to say about Darwin and the circle of life, rodents, pests, blah blah blah, ok? Tiny baby possum. Sad.

I went Christmas shopping today and was very successful. Eleanor was all decked out in her cutest polka dots. I love this outfit. I love that headband. I am a rookie who wasn't paying enough attention to the baby strapped to my chest as I shopped and that headband is now lost to the Kohl's in Weatherford. I am irrationally upset. I know it's just a headband. I know babies drop things and if I want to keep them, they should be attached to cords. I know this isn't the last thing that will go missing randomly while out and about. And yet, I'm bummed. It was so cute! Navy with white polka dots and a bow. It matched the pants!

All that aside--enough whining for one day, right?--there are some definite perks to staying at my folks' house. A fully stocked fridge/freezer/pantry. A giant bathtub. A marvelous shower. (And Eleanor is content to crawl around on the tile playing with her bath toys, the Bumbo that she can now get out of, and any random thing she finds. She will play long enough for me to take a shower or bath AND put on makeup. Not at the same time. One after the other.) A BMW X5 with satellite radio. The world's most patient cat, Bandit, who lets Eleanor maul her, manhandle her, try to eat her tail, paws, face and whiskers, and does it all without a growl, hiss, or swat.

I'll be working on Eleanor's 8 month update just as soon as I get more picture storage so you can see how cute this little girl is being!

*Slight exaggeration