Not quite ready for our close-up

So last year, our Christmas card doubled as Mary Bullock’s birth announcement. This was convenient because it featured a picture of her and not a picture of me. I allowed very few pictures of my post-postpartum swollenness [which in all honesty lasted about six months after her birth and which still sort of lingers in certain areas]. But I had one friend, who is not yet a mother, complain that all us breeders [her word, not mine] stop putting our own faces on Christmas cards as soon as we have children.

So Kate Wiggins, if you ever read this, I would like for you to know that the hardship I endured in attemping a family Christmas card photo with a 1 year old was all for you.

Not quite. 
It’s hard to take a picture when the subject never sits still

I love blurry pictures, don’t you?
In the end, Mary Bullock had her own plans for the afternoon.

Do you know any babies who want to go for a walk?


Me, too.

[Post today inspired by Rachel.]

I didn’t quite catch onto the Facebook daily thanks thing, but when I saw others posting, it started my little wheels turning. What am I thankful for this year? And more often than not, that question turned into: what am I not thankful for? Because honestly, my list could go on forever.

Mostly, I’m thankful for all of the wonderful people in my life. If you’re reading this, and you’re thinking to yourself, is she talking about me? The answer is: yes.

Really. Thank you.

In other yumma news…

I saw this last week on Urban Grace and about died. I have never made a trifle before, and in fact I had to run out and buy this trifle dish in order to make this recipe, but once I saw it, I was determined that it should be done.

Now, I had to take some liberties because either Target does not sell gingerbread mix or I am a total idiot [entirely equal in their possibility, I admit], because I could not find it. And I don’t know about you other mothers, but embarking on a wild goose chase for gingerbread mix was NOT an option. So I used spice cake mix instead.

Yumma. Lee and I have decided that it’s definitely better served with gingersnaps for some added crunch. We like crunch in our trifles.  Want some? Come on over.

So now I’m all in the mood for Thanksgiving. I’m not quite in the mood for the Christmas onslaught that will soon follow, but I’m working on that, too.

Choo! Choo!

I swear, Mary Bullock does actually have toys. It’s just that she prefers old diaper boxes and dog leashes.

This is what happens when Mommy is making breakfast and it’s Daddy Daycare time: diaper boxes destined for recycling get turned into trains. It’s more like a wagon, but we call it a train because wagons don’t make cool noises, now do they? Choo! Choo!
[Ingle looks pretty sinister in this one, right? He’s all: Give me back that leash or the girl is my lunch.]

MB’s first lesson in sharing

Me: Mary Bullock, can I have some of your goldfish?
MB: [eyes me suspiciously] oh, alright. [This was non-verbal, but very clearly communicated.]
MB: [digs in her snack trap, brings out a handful.]
Me: [with an open palm] Thank you, Mary Bullock! You are so sw
MB: Sucka!! [shoves them all in her mouth]

Must. Protect. Goldfish.

Uh-oh. Cornered. 


Uptown Snuggie

So, I have been kind of miffed for the last few years that somehow all Christmases, Birthdays, and Anniversaries have passed and I am still not the owner of a snuggie. If ever a person was born to own a snuggie, I am. I don’t like being cold ever, but especially not when I’m watching TV or reading a book. I use blankets on the couch even in the summer. This is a no-brainer gift for me.

But now I’m sort of glad that I didn’t get one of those “As Seen on TV” ones, because I just flipped through the Brookstone catalogue and saw this:

The snuggie has gone lux. Maybe I’ll give it one more year and see if anyone loves me enough to ensure that my tootsies stay warm and toasty. 


Welcome to my [next] crib…

I love this crib.

I love the whole picture, actually.  Mary Bullock’s crib is also a Jenny Lind, but it’s just off-white. In fact, there are no bright colors in her nursery at all. I gravitated towards everything muted and soothing when I was pregnant, which was the opposite of how I actually felt for most of my pregnancy.
But this yellow is kinda kicky. And I like it.
I guess I’ll just have to make an excuse for a do-over.