Feeding the Soul

Your granny has random weeks where she has to work from 10-7, so she enjoys being your chauffer and taking you to school during that time. Such was the case this week, so daddy dropped you off there before going to work himself. On one particular occasion, however, he forgot his phone in your carseat and doubled back to get it. When he walked in for the second time a mere 15 minutes later, granny was feeding you oatmeal. Apparently she paused mid-shovel, looked up sheepishly and professed "she looked hungry!" Granny told us later she felt like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  ;)  It's quite possible she was enjoying it more than you. Luckily, we sometimes rebel against the daycare schedule as well... And hey, a girl's gotta eat.

(double-fisting it with cucumber and a roll)

(dude, that's the same pose! has aunt heidi been giving you covert lessons?)

And speaking of daycare, can someone please explain to me why it seems that each day I painstakingly select the perfect outfit for you, and without fail it returns covered in a masterful scattering of shellacked poo or carrots? (I'll spare you the pictures). I am now convinced that they a. do not know how to properly apply a flipping diaper, and b. let you feed yourself (or c. resent the supercute/white-colored attire and therefore feel that it must die a horrible, stain-induced death). I have to say that I am for the most part pleased with your "education," and secretly take pride in the fact that Ms. Alicia all but called you her favorite the other day when I picked you up (saying quote 'she's definitely the sweetest baby... and the cutest'). Ok maybe they say that to all the moms when no one else is listening, but come on it's totally true.  ;)  Jake isn't in your class yet, so your status is safe for now.. and even then you know you'll still be their favorite skinny bald girl! Actually, you aren't completely hairless, but that back combover is a force to be reckoned with. I refuse to cut it and leave you with a bald spot, so it just wafts in the wind when we go outside and makes me laugh. It'll fill in eventually.   :)

(if you look closely, you can see the trump hair in back ;)

To the Shore

anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that i'm one of the more modest people you'll meet. but the act of birthing and subsequently feeding your child pretty much requires you to toss that modesty out the window from the top of the empire state building the day your baby is born. i had to have an out-of-body experience to really be ok with the fact that that many people were looking at - and groping - my ladyparts. even still, i often make euphemisms for b-feeding (see i can't even say it here). i tell people i'm "making food" or "going to feed ansley." but my fav as of late is "going to the shore." this most recent genteelism was borne of the MTV phenomenon Jersey Shore, wherein the self-proclaimed Guidos and Guidettes dance to house music by "beating up the beat" with frequent and forceful fist pumps (you can't make this stuff up). therefore, going to the shore = jersey shore --> where they practice fist pumping --> which is kind of like milk pumping... you get it, right? 

well sometimes we don't have to go all the way to the shore and ansley just drinks from the tap. 

this happened yesterday when daddy came up with a glass of milk and tried to toast you, saying "we can drink our milk together!" but little did he know, you require full concentration when taking a milk break, and would have none of it. seriously - completely stopped gulping, turned your head around and let out an "uuuhhh" in exclamation of your annoyance. when daddy tried to reason with you, he got another, even more annoyed-sounding "uhh." (translation: go away daddy, this is my time). poor daddy finally gave up and reluctantly trudged out of the room, but not before warning you "those might be yours now, but not forever..."

Takes My Breath Away

Jon, I love you, and that is why you must see this. 


I admit that I did something I've never done before when I saw it for the first (and second, and third) time. I shed more than a couple tears watching a PSA! And yes, I was at work. It's just so beautifully done and incredibly poignant, I couldn't not share it. 


(Ok, the "arms of an angel" humane society commercial also brings me to tears, but I'd never subject others to a repeat viewing. I just really appreciate this one).