So this is officially my first link-up attempt, being new to the actually keeping up my blog scene and all. But I'm a 7 Quick Takes addict, so I figured that if you can't beat 'em, you should join 'em.
The weather is supposed to finally take a turn toward the fall this weekend. Last night was glorious -- cool, not cold, sprinkling, smelling heavenly. I am really hoping tomorrow's promised temps in the 60s pan out. It takes a real desert rat to love rain as much as I do. And it takes a real Arizonan to think of temps in the 60s as "cold."
Mostly, I'm excited to wear sweaters. And maybe scarves and boots. I'm very sick of my limited collection of tops that fit right post-baby. I get that every woman goes through the whole post-baby body thing, but I also have to wear my summer shirts, like, year 'round. I get sick of them. I love sweaters, though. I wish I could wear them year 'round instead. I am 100% confident I would be singing a different tune if I lived somewhere where things were the opposite.
|No Socks :( She seems to be okay with it, though.|
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Last night, I had a terrible case of mom-insomnia. You know, where you're trying to grab a couple of hours of sleep before the inevitable waking to screams indicating that you baby is going to die of starvation/loneliness/dirty-diapery-ness/some other such malady if you don't save them right.this.minute, but instead, your mind is reeling with 1 million other thoughts including, exactly how many minutes there are before the next expected waking. I got up and did the only thing that cures my mind-reeling insomnia, which is writing down all of my thoughts so I can stop focusing on remembering them. Just as I was easing into bed, I heard the scream -- hours earlier than expected. I nursed and put Little back to bed. I finally fell asleep bracing for a long night. Blissfully, she then slept for like 8 hours, which she almost never does. Strange, but I'll take it!
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We've reached the stage where Little actually cares about things. In fact, there are three things that pretty much make her world: a taggy blanket my aunt made for her, her Sophie the Giraffe (aka The Sophster, 'cause we're cool 5 years ago like that) (Seriously, though, why do kids love the dumb giraffe so much, and why are they so expensive? Ours, for the record, was a gift, because we "had to have it."), and her yummy, plastic keys. This is pretty much standard around here these days:
The keys on the arm simultaneously remind me of a walking Granny with her stretchy key chain and give me fearful flash-forwards to when she can drive (which is about the same time she can date: 35).
Daddy Daughter Time!!
How sweet are they?
|From July: The first of, I expect, many pictures I'll be able to title "Exhausted Daddy Holding Little."|