Thursday surprise: like meatloaf surprise, but better

• Rosie has expressed interest in getting a “shortcut,” i.e. a haircut of dramatic proportions. If this idea sticks (i.e. she asks for it again and it’s not just passing fancy), I will go for it. However, I will need someone to hold me.

• Speaking of hair, mine is going downhill fast. I can barely see from underneath my shag-bangs, and the length is approaching Rapunzel-like proportions. Max routinely waves around fistfuls of my locks like tiny flags. Grody, I say. It sounds like it might be time for a mother-daughter salon visit. (I will still need someone to hold me.)

• Excuse me while I talk about my boobs for a minute. WAIT NO COME BACK WHERE ARE YOU GOING. I feel like I spend more time with my pump than I do some of my regular acquaintances. We go sequester ourselves in a tiny closet and do our thing three times a day during the work week, and to use a really bad pun, it sucks. So I thought naming him (her?) would make it better, you know, so I can say “I must go meet Esteban in the closet for our time together.”  I’m still in the development stages on that. I’ll get back to you on the name choice. I know you’re on the edge of your seat.

• Day three of Max-in-daycare and cloth diapering seems to be humming along just fine, thanks for asking. (Of course you asked, how thoughtful of you.) However, one thing I did not consider about this whole operation is that by deciding to use cloth diapers, we were agreeing to receive a bag filled with our child’s excrement at the end of every single day until the end of time slash whenever he is finally potty trained. Mmm, afternoon delight! (Whatever, my baby’s everything smells of roses.)

• I am still totally obsessed with Instagram and cannot imagine my infatuation will wane any time soon. This is my current favorite picture:

Because come on. Come ON.

• My birthday is Saturday. I’m one of those obnoxious people who likes to celebrate themselves being born and get all HEY IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! to the mailman and whatnot. I’m kind of surprised my fervor has lasted until age 34, but there you go. BEING BORN FTW!


1 Sam { 09.06.12 at 7:28 pm }

I like that you want to name the pump – I thought mine was talking to me “feed the baby, feed the baby…” most of my friends will agree that their pumps did too. Obviously, they said different things, but you get the gist. Hopefully, Esteban treats you right :-) And I can’t believe your daycare is OK with cloth diapers, I am not sure mine would have gone for it. Love the blog update!!! Hope you guys are well!! XOXOX

2 Rachel J { 09.06.12 at 8:22 pm }

I hear you on the pumping. My favorite thing is walking out of my supply closet and having my students ask..”Mrs. acton, why were you in the closet? And what’s that in your hand?”
Hello. My name is Rachel Acton and I lie to small children on a daily basis.
Hope you are well! Love the pics!

3 racher { 09.06.12 at 9:44 pm }

Sam, my pump says “Way to pump! Way to pump!”

RJ, I smuggle the milk out in a black bag, like it’s drugs. Better than facing some of the people in my office with the goods in hand!

4 Mandy { 09.07.12 at 8:13 am }

Yay with the cloth diapers! We still get a bag of Colin’s dirties each evening too. Just be happy you’re still in the easy poop phase. And you’ll be used to it by the time they get really gross.
Also, Colin was looking over my shoulder as I browsed Facebook when you posted that (totally fantastic) picture of Max. He mademe go back to it about a million times. I mean, a BABY, in SUNGLASSES? That rocked his world!

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