so much wrongness

I can't believe that this jacket is still in donation circulation. There is so much wrong with it; from the baby dolman sleeves, to the partial heart on the chest, to the rainbow elastic cuffs. I think I've entered my own Hot Tub Time Machine and Edy's jumped in too, poor thing. (Yes, I admit to watching this movie, don't judge me!)


And please don't think I'm a clothing snob, you should have seen what my oldest wore to school today, this jacket's just bad... really, really bad. So the question is: do I keep this in circulation?

At least for a good laugh?



PS - thank you, friend for all the clothing. Since you are a friend, I know that you would have never put your own daughter in this and probably just bagged it up and gave it to me, hoping it would make it in my blog.

a face only a mother could love

I've realized (or better said, a friend politely pointed out) that I haven't shared any pictures of Edy since my birth story. That's because I don't want to put you guys through commenting about 'how adorable she is'... blah, blah, blah because (hold onto your seats) I know that newborn aren't really cute. (Oh, the horror of my honesty).

But I think newborns are like little aliens. Take this picture as an example:

Then they sort of grow into this frog-like stage:

And finally, they start to look a little cute, right?


So... permission to comment about her chubby cheeks and pink little lips.

AARP's gotten the memo

We were sitting outside on the patio of a restaurant (stop laughing... yes, you can sit outside in Minnesota in the middle of September; they might have had heat lamps going but... whatever). Wyatt stopped mid-chip to ask me: "why do your hands look like Grandma hands?". I looked at him, hoping that I just misunderstood him, "what are you saying?".

I remember looking at co-workers' hands in the past and thinking 'wow, hands really do age you', then I tossed that thought away remembering too 'she and cigarettes are BFFs, gotta be the smoking.' I've got nothing to worry about.

So surely, sitting at the table, Wyatt investigating my hands, I knew there must be some explanation; perhaps that the freckles are too close to age spots, the chipped and bitten nails are just not pretty enough for Wu.

Then Henry decides to jump into the conversation, "They just look old, Mom".

I look at my husband, he just shrugs.

Just lovely.

The next day, still feeling slighted by my children (and husband), I reach into the mailbox and what do I see...


Apparently, AARP's gotten the memo.

deprivation

Henry requested that my husband make him his own television out of boxes (complete with a surround sound system below). Poor deprived kid, I should just *let* him watch Sponge Bob.

(And in case you are wondering, in the screen is Wyatt as Batman, of course, Henry dressed as Wolverine and Edith has laser eyes shooting at them... because that's her secret baby powers. Yes, we've been playing a lot of dress up here.)

A 5k for my 5 week old

I know that the statement I'm about to make will cause many people to think of me in the same way I think of people when they say something like... "no thanks, I don't drink soda" (WTF, I can. not. relate.) So my bold statement to throw out there to the virtual universe is I like to run.

And I missed running when I was pregnant. I tried, I just couldn't feel good about running and jiggling up and down that little baby inside of me.

So, finally, I'm back at running.

I think I should mention though that I'm not a runner.

I don't even like to run outside, I prefer the climate controlled environment of the treadmill, where I can set my speed, my zero incline and adjust the breeze hitting me with it's built-in fan.

Unfortunately, you can't race on the treadmill (I should google that though), so I hit my first 5K this weekend.

But I raced not only because I wanted to run, but because I wanted to run for her, for Liz. For someone that never got a chance to hold her 5 week old, like I do, every day.

A 5k for my 5 week old

and for moms that hold, have held, and have never gotten to hold, their 5 week old.

*

I'm co-hosting a talk on TheMotherhood.com tomorrow at 12EST. I, along with a few others, will be giving advice to new and expecting mothers. (Don't laugh; yes, it says 'expert' under my name... OK, now really stop laughing). Avent will be giving away a gift basket of Avent bottles to randomly selected participants and the end of the half hour. Hope to see you there.

WW- Of Boogers and Batman

"Mommy, thank you for the Batman costume."
"Mommy, now I can't pick my nose."



"Batman doesn't eat boogers."

friends don't let friends

Friends don't let friends order baby announcements when sleep was in 3 hour intervals.


You would think I would have caught that lenght should be length being that my own name is Beth not Beht.

Let me know if you have ideas on what to do with a box full of baby announcements that I will not be sending out.

(Banging head against the wall.)

notes from preschool: that's my boy

Wyatt started preschool on Tuesday and (oh, alright, twist my arm, here's a picture of him on his first day to add to the bazillion other blogs that posted pictures about their child(ren)'s first day of school)

well, each day or so they send home a little spiral notebook in his Spider man backpack about what he's doing at school, little anecdotes about stuff his says and/or does in school.

It started off with this:

No surprise Wu had no problem transitioning. The mention of a babysitter and he and Henry are jumping around on the bed; time for Sunday school, he'll be the first one to the minivan. The kid clearly has no issues with attachment.

Even though the teacher signed it, I guess she found something worthy of mentioning later on in the day:


which continues on:

"Look, a catapult" and sent the figure flying...

That's my boy, the three-year-old that knows what a catapult is, better yet, uses a teeter-totter as a catapult.

Clearly, he takes after his brother.

Batman, you naughty boy

Perhaps it's my school girl humor, perhaps it's the fact that I haven't slept for more than 4 hours in a row in over a month (which 4 hours is still pretty rock star for a three week old and I'm in no way complaining) but does any one else think this is a little, well... naughty.

Or maybe it's just me?

Once again, thank you, McDonald's for providing some much-needed entertainment (and I'm not referring to the seventeen minutes my three-year-old played with this toy).