Five on Friday

1.) It’s FRIDAY. TGIF, amirght people? Last weekend was less of a weekend and more of a whirlwind cycle of parties and it was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. We saw amazing people and family and friends and I am so, so, glad that my kids are growing up with such a wonderful network of extended family and friends. I would so much rather they have that than be on their own.

And I got to dress them up in cute clothes. Which is always a plus.



But, dude, I am tired. Most summer weekends are like that, right? Weddings, showers, parties, birthdays, whatever. Wonderful stuff that you love participating in, but a bear to schedule.

Except you know what? Tomorrow? We have NOTHING. An entire day when I don’t have to put on real pants. I know. (Which I’ve said one too many times, it appears because Sqeaks has taken to repeating, “We wear pants in this household,” which is my usual response to her desire to spend most of her days in various states of undress.) It’s pretty exciting.

2.) Also (kind of) exciting and (kind of) horrifying is that I packed away all the baby stuff yesterday. I’m in the process of packing the things we don’t really use and getting them ready to move and I realized that yup. We don’t really use the bottles anymore.

I know he’s not a year yet, and nobody crucify me, I still give him formula and we avoid milk and don’t arrest me, blah blah blah. But the bottles have stopped. He’s never liked them, and we’d gotten down to two two-or-three-ounce ones a day, just kind of right before bedtime and naptime. More out of habit than anything. He wasn’t drinking them. I was pouring money into a bottle and then letting it sit on the edge of the coffee table while he passed out sweetly.

So I just stopped and they’re gone. And I always said I wouldn’t be sad to see them go because they’ve been such a struggle from (literally) day one, but…I kind of am. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. *sob*

3.) In other news, I had time to pack away the bottles because I’ve been trying to get Buddy to nap normally.

He’s a champion sleeper at night- 11 to 12 hours, put down awake, not a peep out of him, etc. If there’s anything I’m proud of in my parenting it’s that Squeaks says the Hail Mary when she hears a siren (although that’s really more because she’s enamored with our priest) and that I stuck with the bedtime routine through all those horrible early weeks and got him sleeping through the night.

Naptime isn’t that great, though. Everything that I worked so hard to make sure happened at bedtime I just kind of ignored with naptime. We’re always in a different house, he wasn’t ever a good napper, all the typical excuses. For the last few months I’ve been letting him fall asleep in my arms around one pm and then sleep next to me while I rested or hung out in the room for a few hours. And this worked great. I got some downtime, and he got the sleep he needed.

Except remember that weekend I was talking about above? Yeah. It broke him.

We spent Tuesday and Wednesday literally crawling up my chest to avoid falling asleep. Fun for the whole family.

So yesterday I buckled down. At home, in the crib, regular naptime. We’re not exactly a cry-it-out family in that I won’t let them just scream and scream forever, but once I’m sure he’s comfy and not scared and just mad that I’m not in the room with him (how DARE you!) we’ve let them cry fora few minutes. And after a day or so this always works.

So yesterday was not to much fun. He stayed in his crib and “slept” the requisite number of hours, but he woke up every hour or so to voice his displeasure that he did not have company.

I cleaned the cabinets and put away bottles and ate half a loaf of banana bread because I am adept at eating my feelings.

Today should be better. God willing.

4.) Speaking of cleaning the cabinets, I did our pantry cabinet yesterday. Which is a sucking black hold of taco shells and bread crumbs because I apparently just buy a new container of them every time I cook with them. I refuse to box up and move a bunch of expired pancake mix.

I discovered three potatoes that must have fallen out of the bag. They had sprouted, like, trees. 

Also a bag of black mold that (according to the label) used to be hamburger buns. We haven’t had hamburgers since last summer. Oh wow.

5.) Totally unconnected, Buzz has this day-long company philosophy meeting thingy. He has to bring something of deep personal significance to him, and he wanted to bring a picture of me and Squeaks and Buddy.


I, of course, had to vet the picture first. Because if the last picnic was any indication, his company is staffed by the hottest biochemists around and I am a little bit vain.

I picked a picture of the four of us from last Christmas. (Well, no, I really wanted the black-and-white shot from my sister’s wedding where I look super hot and am holding Squeaks and yeah, okay, Buddy wasn’t born yet but I was pregnant so technically he’s in the picture. Buzz said no.)

Buzz did not like my selection. “I look high!” he protested. Yeah. Well, you’re at the meeting. They can see you’re adorable.


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