Here are some pictures to help you to understand why I call her my little Toot.  It’s because she simply is… enjoy.

Ever have one of those days?  Your just going about your business and the next thing you know you stand up and find yourself in jail.  *note* I didn’t stage this photo, EJ crawled in there on her own.

The rest of these lead me down a path of discovery.  Discovering that my sweet innocent daughter has more than a little devil in her.  All I did was follow her around with the camera.  Either she’s got a future in drama and was acting for me or she really is, OMG!  She’s a little me!!!!!!

Tee hee hee!  Look mom!  I found an endless fount of paper to shred!  I’m so smart.

EJ: “Um, mom?  Are these panties clean?”

Me:  ”They were.  Grumble, grumble, grumble.  Maybe I can pick off the dog hair if it doesn’t lodge in the baby slobber to deeply”

Yum, yoga pants are sure tasty.  They seem to be sending little impulses through my gums to my brain.  Oh no, here it comes…….

EEEEEEEEEEEE!  Psycho BABY!   *note* couldn’t get a picture of her flinging the pants around her head like she was swatting at bees.

Whew!  Sorry about that folks!  I’m… I’m really not sure…what came over me….   *note* see the shirt.

Ok, back to normal.  For now.  Hmmm, I wonder if mommy will walk away long enough for me to sneak into the pantry so I can pull all the stuff of the lower shelf again?   And then the devil rears it’s cute head again….

Right now the only ladies I know that have babies either live a little too far away for me to see frequently or really aren’t that close in other ways other than distance.  And none of them have babies the same age as mine.  So it was a shock to my system to walk into this little room and see so many little cutie pies in the same age range.  There were small ones and chubby ones, crawling everywhere like little ants.  Now I know where the term “ankle biters” came from.  One lady’s baby was the same age as mine but was so big he could be a linebacker for the NFL.  He was HUGE but with the most gentlemanly face and deep thoughtful eyes.  I want him to be my daughter’s boyfriend.  He was the first baby EJ flirted with before she became fickle and moved on.

 Of course, we were a couple minutes late so we didn’t sit in the “inner circle” of ladies and babies. (Story of my life and that’s ok because I usually like the air better at the back of the room) I sat just behind the main group and EJ sat on my lap with death grips on my fingers.  This was a new experience for her too.  I know what she was thinking.  ”OH…MY…GOD!!!!  I’m not the only one!!!  BUT MOMMY SAID I WAS THE BESTEST, MOST PERFECT, BABY EVER!!!!!  She LIED!!!!!!”  No not really.  But she was a little shy at first.  Which was a personality that I’ve never seen her use.  I’ve seen “happy baby”.  I’ve seen “mad baby”.  ”Sad baby.” “Pissed baby.” “Exasperated baby.”  ”Dictator baby.”  Then there’s the look she gives me all the time when she thinks I’m being a dork.  She’s usually the most out going little girl and has no problem cruising around in other rooms at home where she can’t see me at all times.  She’s bravest little person I’ve ever known.   I’m always so proud of her when I go into public and she spends the whole time smiling at EVERYONE.  Very rarely does she just stare at someone with that “stare”.  You know the one I mean.  The one that says “I’m thinking you’re a baby eater”.  

But that’s not how she was when she entered this room. EJ was simply shy.  It took her about 10 minutes to decide that all was well, that there were no “baby eaters” in the room. Then she wanted to go see what was going on in the next lap over which was where the “Linebacker” baby was hanging out.  She went over and said “Hi”. They even patted each other hands.  But then my little girl opened her social butterfly wings and started to flit around the room and left her boyfriend in the dust.  

As with all the other moms, I went crawling after her.  **Warning to all the moms at the next story time** I’m not chasing her around again.  She’s trapped in a room with all the other cuties. There is no reason for me to break knee caps to keep up with her.  If she crawls in your lap, deal with it.  This does not make me a bad mommy, just realistic.  She came over to say hi to you, I didn’t, so be nice and pat my child on her head.  She will get distracted and find someone else to flirt with in a minute and will leave you alone.   Also, if she is eating Cherrios, I will be allowing her pick the ones she drops on the floor up so she can eat them. Don’t take them away from her on fear that she will scream so loud someone will think there is a fire and will hit the fire alarm.  If you just go with my flow we will all be fine. 

I’l admit I had a nice time too.  Chatting with other mom’s who are living my life right now, or various forms of it.  But of course “it” had to happen. Some of you may or may not believe this is possible for a kind loving mother to be so critical, but I was asked blatantly if I was breast feeding by one mom, whom hadn’t even bothered to ask my name first, and who gave me that “look” when I said “nope”.  I mention this thinking about the Momversation that was about breast feeding fanatics.  What’s up with the questions lady?  Does it matter?  Does it tell you something about my character or how much I love my child?  Stay out of my bra!

Anyways, EJ had fun and that was the main goal of this trip today.  The “Linebacker’s” mommy and I had a nice time chatting.  She was new to the room too and didn’t know the songs any better than I did.  But we fudged it just fine.  I do hope I get to see her again.  As for the “are you breast feeding mom” I hope your breast-pads fail next time your in public and you leak all over your favorite dry clean only shirt.   Aside from that, I will be going back frequently since it seemed like a great place to give my daughter a little baby time and it gave me a chance to see that my kid was normal.  However, I must boast that she was still the prettiest baby in the room.  And the smartest.  And the fastest crawler…..

Today I’m going to do a little catch up for the two other pair of shoes she’s had so far in her short 8 month life and then I’ll show off her newest treads.  I’m proud to boast that they are not new but new to us.  I’m all about the resale shopping and thanks to the CPSC for pulling their heads out of their butts I can still fulfill my need to shop and splurge without breaking the bank. 

So without further ado may I present EJ’s first pair of shoes. You may recognize them from one of my previous posts about the Green Monster in My Shoes but for the sake of keeping the time line flowing in this post I’ll show them to you again. Notice the wonderful green that doesn’t match anything she had in her closet.  But how was I supposed to pass those up???  Of course I couldn’t put MY little girl in cute little pink shoes or something more girly for her first pair.  She’ll thank me one day.

The next pair I really only got her because I felt she needed to start getting used to the idea of having her toes constricted.  No, not really!!  Duh!  They were cute and when I was browsing around the resale shop she grabbed them off the “maybe pile” and started chewing on them and drooling buckets into them before I realized it.  I would have been too embarrassed to put them back like that so I had to get them.  Turned out to be a good thing since they were a great thing to keep near the changing table for when she’s complaining about my diaper changing techniques.  She still loves to chew on them.

These are her newest kicks!  Check out the cuteness!!!!  I had to get both pairs since I couldn’t decide.  The pink and white ones light up so of course I had to get them for her.  But to tone down the “pink factor” I also had to get the plain white ones for her less pink days.  Yes, she has less pink days.  We all do, don’t deny it!

So that’s the start of my milestone recording.  Oh and she’s crawling now and getting a couple more teeth. Better add that so the grandparents don’t have an old fashioned conniption fit!

Cheers!

My parents are coming in from out of town this next day to spend the holidays with us.  And so…, why would that keep me up?  It’s not because of excitement or nerves.  It’s simply and stupidly because of the temperature in the house.  I have a baby monitor that tells me the temperature in EJ “room”.  I keep saying EJ’s “room” because we have her moved into dear hubby’s office for the duration of my parents stay.  EJ’s nursery also doubles as the spare room with the fold out bed in it.  So when company comes to call, the poor little thing gets evicted.  This is only a temporary problem.  We are currently trying to sell our house to expand our american dream along with our family.  Welcome into my life and the current economic status and you can see where we stand right now as a force in this world.  But that’s for another time and another middle of the night bitch session.  Usually, we would just put EJ in her pack n play for the night but since this visit is longer we moved her entire crib into the office.  She’s been a great sleeper in there which has surprised me and blessed me. I was expecting some nights of terror as she woke up and saw that her comfortable, safe, little dream world was lit up in different places with the closet light being in a different place and the non-stop humming and blinking of all of geek husbands geek equipment. Kind of like waking up in a hotel room where you walk into walls trying to get to the bath room.  Completely discombobulating.  

I know, your still wondering why I’m awake and hovering like a bad smell.  Well, because of all of geek husbands geek equipment he had a second air vent installed in the tiny room to keep the heat regulated.  So it’s either colder than a witches titty or hotter than Hades in there.  That’s why I feel so compelled to keep a close eye on the temperature.  We moved EJ in a few days before the arrival of the parents to make sure she was going to do ok in there.  The last few nights it’s been in the 60′s.  Tonight it’s dropped into the 30′s.  Makes a HUGE difference in the little room.  But instead of getting colder, which is what we expected and why we dressed her for arctic sleep, it got hotter in there.  So essentially we are cooking our baby right now. Medium low heat.  The other factor I’ve decided to concern myself with since I can’t sleep is her actual nursery/guest room.  We have another thermometer in there and it’s showing that it might start snowing.  My parents are of the older generation, since they read this I’ll be kind… love you!, that get cold really easily and once they do it’s hard for them to warm up.  EJ loves to sleep in the colder room we’ve noticed.  She usually will start whining when it gets too hot.  Except for tonight, which is, again, the main  reason why I keep hovering.  Why isn’t she complaining about it being too hot?  So of course I have to check to make sure she’s still breathing that hot air every 5 minutes.  

Now I’m wondering how I’m going to keep it warm in one room and the room right next to cool?  Am I just nuts? Am I just pondering to the abyss while I really should be asleep and not up tapping away like a mad woman?  Can you see my next dilemma coming on?   Should I just get up and go make coffee and watch some dorky lifetime ho, ho, ho movie and shut up?  No, that would just make me tired and irritable tomorrow.  Not a good way to start out a visit with my mother.  Nope, I’m going to continue to lie here staring back and forth at the computer image of my little girl watching her breath and watching the temperature in her room bake her slowly till she’s medium to well done.

Wish me luck ya’ll!

His personal style is rather easy to maintain. Shorts and tee’s in the summer.  Polo shirts and jeans in the winter.  He’s a nicely fuzzed kind of guy so he’s usually not needing sweaters or anything beyond a long sleeve tee shirt in the winter.  And tennis clothes are easy to mix and match for men.  Simple, not flashy, but looks great on him.  When I met him he usually dressed in very neutral tones and could blend in with the wall color but, as soon as the relationship police would allow, I brightened up his tee shirt selection with some colors.  I never really knew how seriously lacking his knowledge was of style and fashion.  I just assumed he picked his wardrobe out of comfort and not because you can’t mess up tee shirts and jeans. I also now wonder if, before he met me, his closet was also added to by previous girl friends and not really himself.  Now I understand why when I ask him how something looks on me or which shoes he thinks I should wear he gives me some noncommittal answer that only upsets me, and makes me want to change clothes 5 more times.  It’s not because he’s doing the “guy thing” and trying to stay out of trouble.  He really, truly, honestly doesn’t have a clue. 

Where am I going with this you might ask?  Well, we now have a daughter.  A small, beautiful, growing person of the female persuasion.  An American girl and God forbid, one day a grown up woman.  Someone whom I’m looking forward to teaching about makeup and clothes and all those girly things. Oh, and SHOES! Dear Hubby and I have split the duties of when we take care of our little bundle of joy.  I’m more of a night owl so I get bedtime which includes the evening ritual of her last bottle and sometimes waiting and watching while she burns off her extra energy, which can take sometimes several hours.  Dear Hubby has mornings since I usually still have my head stuffed under a pillow when EJ is ready to greet the world for the day.  What that means is she is dressed by Daddy most of the time.  Do you see where I’m going now?  I may have taught Dear Hubby how to match colors ok, except for the day he put her in hot pink pants and a red shirt, but I forgot to teach him about prints.

Dear EJ, I’m so sorry your Daddy is lacking in the genetic tissue to be able to dress you like the rock star that you are.  One day when your all grown up you will appreciate the effort he put into making sure you had warm and comfortable clothes on each day.  Even if the color combinations and the mismatching prints burnt your retinas.  I promise, when you get older and you start to care about your personal style I will make sure I’m the one up in the mornings.  I also promise until that time I will do my best to keep your “bad clothes days” inside our doors.  When we go out in public I will always try to make sure you at least have colors that blend with each other.  I love you darling, and one day you and I both will look back on this and laugh.

EJ is modeling her hot pink striped shirt with her gray pants with pink hearts all over, and her multi-colored zig-zag striped socks.

Lewis and Gilbert from Revenge of the Nerds.

I’m so glad that the only way she will remember this is from pictures.  And I’m so glad Dear Hubby doesn’t complain when I scoot into her nursery, when I hear over the monitor that its time to dress her, to pick out something too cute for her to wear when I know she going to be in public.   That way I can go back to bed knowing that I saved our daughter from another day of potentially getting the nick name of “nerd baby”.

Before I got that twinkle in my eye that was my dear little EJ I could go and go and go and never feel this tired. I would wake up at the butt crack of dawn, hit the courts and play a 3 hour match, come home and mow the lawn. Then I’d shower and go shopping for a couple hours or do any number of other things that required my energy.  I was like the energizer bunny.  Now I’m like the energizer bunny with corroded batteries.  I understand that pregnancy can take its toll on a woman’s body but I feel like I’m back to being myself physically.  I can run around a tennis court even better than I did before I was pregnant.  I even have the stamina for a three hour match.  What I don’t have the stamina for is this little human.  She’s an energy sucker.  I think it’s because even if I’m comfortable on the couch I still have to be “on”.  Always responsible.  Always watching for the evil gremlin that will sneak up and tip my newly sitting up right daughter over and make her smack her head on the floor creating a whole flood of screams and tears.  Always ready to jump.  I truly believe it’s the waiting for something to happen that is so exhausting.  

So here I sit, pooped and ready to sleep for a week.  Or at least until she decides to babble to herself in a couple hours and wake me up and make me listen for more evil gremlins.  

Yawn.