Well, more like, hear our tales of mediocre weekending whilst wrangling a wee one.
Equally exciting, I'd say.
(These weekend recaps seem to becoming a thing now. Is it a thing? Are we a thing now? Should it be a thing on the blog? Am I asking too many rhetorical questions?)
Emma seems to be secretly washing her hair in human growth hormone when I am not looking. Her luscious locks are beginning to reveal some curly goodness. I may call her Shirley Temple from now on.
Or, you know, Crazy Eyes.
I wonder if there are any contraindications to the consumption of bath water. I mentioned that bath time has been a real sanity-saver lately, all hail bath time. HAIL. But lately she has taken to plopping in front of the faucet, filling her various cups with the water, drinking them, then discovering that she can just put her face full on, open-mouthed under the running water. Many coughs and splutters ensue.
I remind her that she lost her gills sometime in utero and she says something about the man keeping her down.
In case I was holding on to a sliver of hope that her baby-dom was still present, I had the reality check that we are in full-blown toddlerhood around these parts. I'm talking attitude, babbling talk-back, tantrums, I-can-do-it-myselfing, dramatically throwing oneself on the floor, dead weight hand-holding, and the like.
Baby no more. Pretty soon she'll be asking me for the car keys. Wait, she already does that. I was like, no way, not until you're like 16 months.
Someone also discovered the magic and glory that is the fudgsicle. She's a goner.
"Can I get an AMEN?" - Emma
Okay, other parentals out there, did your 14, almost 15 month-old ever go back to crawling and rolling around on the floor? She's been doing some funny baby-esque movements and I'm wondering if it's a phase. Unless she secretly knows my unwavering desire to fill this house with more babies.
Happy baby pose, namaste.
You better believe Emma and I got compliments on our matching-ness this weekend. I'll be ready for my straight jacket any day now. Can't. Contain. The. Crazy.
Cousins, identical cousins.
It was rather warm this weekend so we spent some time in our skivvies. Her, not me. Wait, what.
Girl, put your clothes on.
When she tries, she cleans up goooood.
Aww, look at those beautiful faces. So much promise, so much love. I wonder what mom is doing...
Seems about right.
(Early anniversary dinner means popping bottles -- of the milk and spirit varieties.)
Of course, Emma and I are still trying to kick these bugs that have made our bodies their perma-hotel California. I am on the congestion-throat ache phase. She is on the post-fever-rash phase.
Also the clingy-can't-be-put-down phase.
And the no-personal-space phase.
I'm under that dog pile.
Let's run off the crazy, pleaseandthankyou.
Run Forest, run!
How was your weekend?