Do you know the muffin woman?

Alternative title: Adventures at Costco 

We did a little weekend trip to Costco this past weekend because we like (we like) to party. Emma insists on using an inordinate number of diapers, so off to restocking we went. (That's what I like to tell myself, however I am certain Paul and I wanted to go to Costco just for the free samples.)

Emma be like, "I'll drive." 

Thanks, peach.

Side note: She was INSISTENT on wearing her backpack all day long and death to all moms if I dared take it off, so to Costco the backpack went.

Our Costco trips usually proceed thus so...

Attempt to park.
Honk at wreckless folks on cellphones (seriously??!).
Find spot.
Grab cart.
Strap tiny human in.
Search frantically for Costco card.
Find said card.
Enter Costco.
Mull over all products and rationalize why we definitely need a new 100-inch television, four-karat diamond, three-pack of new travel coffee mugs, bamboo bathrobes, 20 pounds of salmon, and a lifetime supply of cheese puffs.
Battle checkout lines.
Glare at attempts of cutting.
Debate getting the hotdog/soda combo.
Sigh at the Amex bill the next month.

This particular Costco trip gave us some extra laughs.

Our eyes widened at the muffin display and, OH LOOK, a dozen muffins for really cheap?!? I am sold. We debated for a solid two minutes on flavors and went with blueberry and double chocolate. We let Emma hold on to one of the six packs...

Hmmm, why is there suddenly a hole in the plastic wrap. Hmmm... 

A head scratcher.

The muffin woman had unceremoniously gnawed through the plastic to the gift with purchase/holy grail. 

We have a thief in our midst.

Oh sweet baby puppies...what is that glorious, fluffy mountain of carbohydrates I have stumbled upon? How did it end up in my hands? Oh mother, there you are, I have no idea how that happened. 

I guess we'll never know.

She went back for seconds, thirds, and fourteenths.

Emma be like, "you're going to have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands".

We stood there, completely awestruck. If carb-loving is wrong, us Wetterholms don't want to be right!

Of course, she needed to wash down that type 2 diabetes-inducer with milk.

Got muffins?

Around here

An unstoppable father-daughter duo that melts my heart and keeps me on my toes.

A teething, needy little one that is (thank God) placated by hours in the sling or Ergo while I attempt to cook, clean, and run errands.

Marveling at my little family as I look forward to our fourth wedding anniversary tomorrow.

Discovering tiny love notes hidden around our entire apartment from one handsome hunk of a man.

Attempting to think of a few birthday wishes for my birthday on Monday, keep you posted.

Hear us roar

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.

Gag.

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?

Golden hour

Yesterday evening, I was playing around with my good camera. One of my (ever-present) goals is to become more comfortable with manual shooting. Here are a handful of unedited, raw photos. For all you photography pholkes (hehe) out there, tell me what you think. 

The cure

...for cabin fever (also known as cabin plague, cabin cancer, cabin gangrene, cabin botulism, etc).

On Thursday, I started feeling a little throat tickle. A little scratch. A tiny flutter. On Friday morning I woke up and BOOM, full blown viral infection. I thoroughly blame the petri dish otherwise known as daycare and its happy hosts otherwise known as the babies. 

Even though I felt like my skin was about to fall off and the fever had me seeing tiny gremlins in the corner, we still had to entertain my permanent tornado as a house guest named Emma. She is highly susceptible to the disease known as cabin fever (also known as, see above).

Unless we would like to experience the wrath of Emma badger, we try our best to entertain her during non-daycare hours. Remember when weekends were relaxing? Nope, I definitely don't.

So between my congestion, headache-induced naps, and popping meds like tic tacs, we did what we could to shake off the cabin plague this weekend.

Paul was promoted at work last week and we celebrated on Friday evening at a little restaurant on the water near our apartment. We let the tornado walk around after dinner and we discovered this little pier tucked away on the bay. Emma watched the fishermen, I panicked at the thought of her slipping into the water through those wide open slats, Paul rolled his eyes - you know, normal stuff. 

And of course, I had to pose in front of said pier like the weirdo I am. 

The weirdest.

(Don't let the smile fool you, that head is full of phlegm.)

On Saturday morning, when I finally remembered how to put on my glasses and wasn't trapped under my pile of tissues we took a walk to downtown San Francisco and found this ADORABLE Children's Creativity Museum close to our place. It's amazing, I must have walked by this place 50 jillion times pre-Emma and never noticed. But once that whole motherhood brain takes effect, I spot kids having fun in a certain neighborhood and think, "Kids having fun. Must follow. Drool." 

Creeper.

They have an "under five" section with legos, blocks, puppets, art projects, things to climb, stuff to explore, and I'm in love. Under five? Pssh, all ages yo. Emma was in heaven and the cabin cancer was at bay. We walked home after dinner and I slithered into bed at the ripe old time of 8:15 pm. 

On Sunday morning, we took a little morning stroll in our PJs and enjoyed that morning sunshine to stave off that cabin gangrene once more. She is perfectly content walking around anywhere that is not inside. 

I am going to need to look in to toddler-friendly boredom buster activities that will fit our tiny apartment. But for now, I can release her into the wild...

...of the concrete jungle.

Thankfully, one of her absolute favorite times of day is bath time. That always saves us from a few of the more challenging moments leading up to her least favorite time of day, bed time.