scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

5.2.08

eighteen weeks

good LORD, time is flying. oy. and M was sick and you were sick and i was sick and now we are all mostly better - though now that i think about it i still need to be drinking more tea and finish off the little stash of Vitamin C capsules. It was a long couple of weeks there. Long. But you have enough pajamas now.

And since we didn't do anything for Halloween (well, there's not much of a proper Halloween celebration here anyway) and there's a fasching and foosball party tonight, well, you're going to be a Tiny Alligator, or Maybe A Crocodile. I think your shirt says crocodile but your hat has a gator on it. Um, it is also possible that the creature pictured on your croc-labeled shirt is actually an alligator. but. They don't have baby costumes here! None of those cute plush little tomatoes, nothing with big floppy mouse ears, no monkey tails or pumpkin stems or anything else that babies get dressed up as. And you will still be cute but i think we are going to have to point out to people that you are a small bitey reptile: i think we might say something like, well, put your finger near her mouth, and see what she is. That would go over well, i think. M and i are going as river people. Easy, accessible, all the same reasons we went as dirty hippies last year - for us, at least, i didn't have to go out and buy anything to make a costume. I do hope you don't mind wearing the hat too much.

I'm back to work now, two days a week, and i think you like the sitter. We have to dress you warmer to go there, though, because she likes taking you all to the park and it's colder in the stroller than it is in the Ergo. But you are happily drinking bottles (expressed milk, thankyouverymuch) and wearing plastic diapers while you're there. And are my little velcrobaby afterwards. It's nice being a grownup again.

I think i must be overreacting to the smoking thing. I must be, right? Except it's really huge, right? I have no idea. I have no perspective; i don't know how to feel about it. I think i must be overreacting because everyone i tell about it goes, so what. Except it seems awful, sending you to a place with smoke in it, and then you get cuddled all day and you come back with it in your fine little hair. And, therefore, in your fine, pink little lungs, too, and if i think about it any more then my heart is going to break.

Labels: baby, milestones

scrawled @ 14:27