Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Things About Carl

He looks nice whilest walking through the rain in a kilt.

He has an affinity for strange little critters.

He's helpful with babies.

And today's his birthday!
Happy BD, Lov.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Wherin I Calibrate My Fat

Technically, I had my fat calibrated for me. Because I joined a gym. A yuppie, upbeat kind of gym where they offer lots of services so as to make you feel like you are getting your money's worth, and one of those services happens to be fat calibration. This is immediately followed by goal assessing.

It is a hand-holding kind of gym.

Happily enough, one of the other services they offer is $1/visit daycare. I actually went to this gym on Friday to look into getting Carl a membership for his birthday. After getting the walkthrough tour, and seeing the happy little daycare room with it's pleasant (though surprisingly butch) daycare lady, and after realizing that the two of us would actually cost less, I wrote a check for us both. (I really do not envision Carl putting up with the fat pincers and Q & A stress evaluation. I predict he will buck the system and walk their treadmills with his fat unassessed. Cause he's a rebel like that.)

Now I'm all starry-eyed with visions of zoning out for a few hours a week with very little baby attatched to my hip. This is extremely exciting to me. Rejoice.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

The Thing She Does

I am seriously considering a store-bought baby-chick costume from Old Navy for Wendy's first Halloween. The magnitude of unoriginality that this suggests will also suggest to you how far beyond caring I am concerning quippy blog titles.

So there's this thing she does now, where she flops over on top of and cuddles all things soft/fluffy/cute/small/in her way, and I'll tell you what. It is the frigging most heart-melting thing to watch. She even has this little lilting "ahHH" sound that goes with the cuddling, as in, "ahHH, little stuffed whatever-you-are, I love you so much. There, there," while she gathers it to her neck and snuggles it's worries away.

We were out on a random mental-health stroll through the strip of shops between Toys R Us and Old Navy yesterday, and found ourselves in a Carter's baby clothing store. It is a store. With clothes. Just for babies. This is fun for me, shut up. Anyway, I was looking to my left at a display of baby shoes, when Wendy suddenly tried to pitch herself out of her perch in my right arm. We both wobbled to the right, and crashed into a wall display of forty different kinds of smushy soft cute fluffy toys, where, unfazed by our near floor-eating experience, she attempted to cuddle them all at the same time.

After prying every one of her eleven hands from the curly tails and floppy limbs, rehanging several questionably neon elephants, and digging a sodden chunk of paper tag out of her mouth, we discussed the purchase of one of these items.

"Do you like these guys here?"
"awwwhhh!" *reaches for white puppy*
"Ok, the puppy?"
"AAAWWWHHH!!" *reaches for green horsey*
"The horsey?"
"dibbledibbledibble" *puts finger in nose*
"Your nose!"
"leebblelebblelebble" *puts finger in my nose*
"My nose! very good!"
"aaaaHHHHHHWHH!!" *lunges for pink bunny*
"Right. The matter at hand."

After some deliberation, we decided on a pink and brown teddy bear that plays the same tinkleing lulleby that this other teddy bear we have used to play before it had it's unfortunate accident involving Mommy's last nerve and a short airborn adventure into the wall.

She fell asleep neck-snuggling her new lulleby bear in the car seat on the way home. We both feel very good about this purchase.