Hey, I'm averaging four minutes of free time a day here, you'll take what you can get. Chris has taken to emailing me periodically throughout the day to see "how things are going." What he really wants to know is which, if any, of the children I currently have duct taped to the washing machine in the basement.
Mia's outfit today:
I dig the shoes. I think this is the exact same outfit my grandma used to wear to play shuffleboard on a cruise. Actually, Mia is about the same height as my grandma.
This is what I bought today.
That just seems a bit extreme, doesn't it? I mean, all that stuff barely fit into the back of my SUV. (To be fair, there was a double stroller back there too.) (And it's a very small SUV.)
These are Mia's dinosaurs.
Although I just noticed that the baby triceratops is missing. And really, they are Michael's dinosaurs, which I bought for his birthday lo these many months ago and then chickened out of attending his birthday party with a weeks-old infant tied to my chest so they sat in my coat closet until Mia decided she wanted to be a paleontologist and I gave them to her in hopes of stopping the whining for five minutes. Sorry Michael, I owe you a birthday gift.
I was a little worried how she would respond to the teeth and the claws and the general "I'm gonna tear off your skin and pick my fangs with your bones" attitudes of the bigger dinosaurs, but she doesn't seem to have noticed. Mia's dinosaurs all lie down together to rest and then come give me kisses and yesterday she asked if I would breastfeed them because they were hungry. Hello, gender stereotypes in action, nice to see you.
Some guy just came to my door trying to sell me meat out of his truck. Which a) door to door meat? Really? And b) ha ha, vegetarian, sucker!
And now if you will excuse me, Mia is screaming her curly little head off at the injustice of being
duct taped to the dryer confined to her room for quiet time and I have to go get her before she wakes up poor Owen who has decided that teething is incompatible with sleep and therefore desperately needs every minute of nap he can get. She did tell me this morning that I should let Owen sit in his "Bimbo" though, so I suppose I will keep her.