She Found The Dirt Inside





As we suspected, potting soil does not taste so good.  She discovered the joys of house plants right before her nap.  When I went in to get her, after she woke up, her whole room wreaked of rosemary.



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No. Touch. Kitty.

On the phone with my mom today, she said she wished she had a recording of the conversation so she could play it for Harper when she is ten.  Unfortunately, we have no phone tap.  I guess we can perform a reenactment using this script:


Mom:  Hello.

Me:  Hi.

Mom:  What is going on?  You sound like you are either laughing or crying.

Me:  Both.  I think I gave Harper a black eye.

Mom:  Don’t you hate that!  It is amazing they survive what you put them through.  When I think of what I did to your oldest brother, Will. 

Me:  It is not like I dropped her.  Harper, no.  I was carrying her into the living room.  She leaned out at the wrong time, I didn’t stop fast enough, and her head hit the door frame.  No touch kitty.

Mom:  Is she o.k.?

Me:  She is fine.  She barley cried.  Kitty does not like that.  But it is her first Christmas, and, oh, the pictures.

Mom:  Makeup.

Me:  Harper, no.  She looks like Rocky.  Harper.  No.

Mom:  Well I guess you can’t put a steak on a baby’s eye.

Me:  Spanky does not like that.  No. Touch.  Kitty.

Mom:  And, you pobably don’t have a steak.  (See as how you don’t eat meat.)  What about frozen peas?

Me:  We moved all our food to the basement freezer to make room Harper No for the cookies.  HarperNo.  HarperNo.  We have teething toys, but she won’t hold still.  Notouchkitty Notouchkitty.

Mom:  You sound like you are busy.


Mom:  I would just go with the make up.

Me:  O.k.  Love you.

Mom.  Love you, too.  Bye.


(Sorry for the lack of a picture.  I’ll get my act together soon.)

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Biz’s Beat of the Day


This is a very old picture of Harper.  It is from this summer, when she had a baby tan and wore sun dresses.  Before she was mobile enough to eat dirt, and before the ground froze and was covered by snow.  I was playing flickr tag, when you post the 5th picture form your 5th file of photos, when I found this.

I have to make about 154 dozen cookies by Monday.  I might not be posting as much until then.  Yesterday, I made all the dough.  In the midst of using up about 16 lbs. of butter, I found time to put a cute outfit on the baby in an effort to photograph her for a post.  It did not work out, like most things baby related.  She sat there like a deer in headlights.  Normally she lights up and performs a bit when she sees the camera.  Really, she loves it.  As soon as the camera was put away, she discovered how fun the broom is.  It was freakishly cute, but you will just have to take my word for it.  

She also chose yesterday, of all days, to revisit her one crappy nap a day bit.  Come on now.  Work with me, baby girl.  Over 154 dozen cookies.  By Monday.  NAP.  Please.  Your other option is to watch Yo Gabba Gabba, and you don’t want ADD.


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An Open Letter of Unsolicited Advice


I know a few pregnant ladies and new moms (new than me).  They have got me thinking about all the crazy things people tell you when you are pregnant or holding a newborn.  It is like a free pass for total strangers to tell you how you should eat, give birth, find your kegel, breath into your pelvic floor, get your baby to sleep, eat, go longer between feedings, poop more, poop less.  

Now, I want to tell them every bit of advice I found useful.  I have become one of those people.  It was inevitable.  So here it goes:

  •  You are going to be a great mother.
  • You know everything you need to know.  (Don’t let anyone tell you how to parent your kids, especially me.  Only you know how to mother your baby.  Why?  Because you are the mommy, that is why!)
  • Tell your husband you have diareha.  There are days, or weeks, that will be hard.  Just tell your partner you have diareah.  Go in the bathroom.  Relax.  Read a magazine.  Do your nails, whatever it takes till you feel better.  (This is the best advice I ever got.)
  • Sit down with your partner before the baby comes, and discuss how you will devide the responsibilities, i.e. baby care, cleaning, laundry, finances, all it takes to run your household.
  • All you need to do for the first 3 weeks is nurse.

I wish I could remember more of the crazy stuff, but there was too much going on.  People would mostly comment on how big my belly was, and marvel at that I could still fit into the booth at Ruby Tuesday’s.  Hot.

Dish, what did people tell you?


(This picture is of my mom, who is not big on unsolicited advice.  I’m lucky to have her.)


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Kippy Christmas


Skylar’s office holiday party was at Dave and Busters this year.  I have not played arcade games since I was a kid, and can I just say, I have gotten way better.  With a few ticket donations from our friends, we were able to win this classy Care Bear for Harper.  Her Kippy Christmas could not have been better.


I ended up making a bone for Dignon out of drop cloth material.  I like the color.  It is sturdy and rugged, but minimal.  It is also very poorly made, in a somewhat charming way.  He loves it.



The cats’ felt catnip mice are beyond adorable.  However, felt is not an ideal material for cat toys, as it is already somewhat disintegrating with their drool and teethmarks.  

Merry Kippy Christmas from out kitties and puppy to yours!

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Crying is Noisy

A couple of weeks ago Harper became a champion sleeper, 2 fabulous naps, at least 11 hours a night, we can put her down drowsy but awake.  I’m bragging here.  I know, I hate me, too.

Now, the cats have figured out how to open the door to her room.  They throw their bodies against it tossing the door open, walk right in, and wake her up.  WTF!  Why?  Spanky (formerly known as Skanky) used to go in, and sleep on the day bed in Harper’s room.  These last couple of mornings, Spanky opens the door, walks in, chiming her kitty bell, and walks out.  She is probably forced to leave by the volume of Harper’s shrill cries.

The thing is, I’m up to see all of it happen, because I forgot how to sleep though the night.  I still get up at 4:00 a.m.  I started feeding the animals instead of the baby, to give it a sense of purpose.


(I owe you pictures, and they are coming.  We have a battery charger!  Yea!  And this weekend, my mom is in town for Kippy Christmas.  So, there should be some film worthy stuff going on.)


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9 Months and 5 Days Later…

(Still no new cute pictures of Miss Thing.  Cursid broken battery charger!  Here is one from last week)


Harper took her first steps today.  They were baby steps.  

Another mom saw her do it at playgroup, but I thought it was some freak accident.  Like when she rolled over at three months, but did not do it again for weeks.  Or, when she slept thought the night once, but did not start sleeping well for weeks.  My fellow mama must have thought I was nuts by the way I was so nonchalant about my child WALKING for the first time.  I think my response was along the lines of, ‘Oh, she wants to walk.  Mmmm, cookies!  Be right back.’

When we got home, I put her down near her toys, and she took two steps to get to them.  Whoa!  She is doing something so similar to walking!  I’m so happy, but…  She is growing up so fast.  First steps, then walking, then running, then boys & next thing you know she’ll be asking me for help with her algebra homework.  I don’t remember algebra.  Can that be solved with Google?  Panic.  I feel panic.

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