Hosting the Babysite
A sampling from life with our bouncing baby, kitchen creations, and closet favorites.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
One of Those Days
This last Saturday Jared had an audition out in Seattle. As a result, I was the sole caretaker for Ryann. Not a problem. I've done it before. Plus it's my day off. I had a relaxing fun day planned for us. You know what comes next.
Instead of sleeping in, as I had hoped, Ryann was awake at 5:30.
5:30!
We had a fun getting breakfast and she went down for her morning nap like a champ. I then got ready, pulled out all the music I would need for the evening mass I play for, and sat down to relax for a bit. Because of the timing of her nap we ended up missing Sabbath School and the chance to play with her little cousin, Amiah. However, I wasn't too worried about it, since we were going to have the chance to hang out some more that afternoon. We got to church, said hi to some friends, and jumped in the car to go over to my Grammo's. Then I remembered that my music was back on the kitchen table.
Back home.
Then to Grammo's.
Because of all the running around we had plowed straight through Ryann's lunchtime and had snacked a fair amount. As a result, when we did get to Grammo's, Ryann was completely uninterested in eating. I ran to mass and then ran back to pick up Ryann. I was excited because Jared would be getting back shortly, but he was hungry and there was no food at home. Plus I needed to return a Redbox movie, but I hoped to be able to go to the one that was outside so that I didn't have to unload and reload Ryann.
The outside Redbox had four people in line. Four creepy people.
To the store!
Random papercut.
Ryann fell asleep on the way to the store. Really really asleep. As in, I pulled her out of the car and tried to sit her up and she just fell over like a drunk man. I hadn't packed a blanket, so I carried her through the store and steered the cart with my thumb. Ouch.
I was annoyed. Really really annoyed. But as I bumped through the store juggling my little girlie I felt more and more relaxed and happy. And here is what I learned that day.
No one can stay angry while holding a sleeping baby. Really.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Happy Dance
My perfect jeans are definitely a bit looser, and if possible, even perfecter.
![](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_vclHpfvXXsVfaZNAqgTOdja48sTfHq2BjB11B1DCSJqrL2Q_LJg6dvQPJaLttnsTtoHwSgGP48CWfIBe_C11YUWfmFiVzRwI_ZVMzX9ZmKOU2X1l2VAkELTCFj4y8UKPVwG3w8EEA7IdU2m6gRwiDXG8WcnRxzTJOcE5QyeOk=s0-d)
A salute to Gap's Limited Edition High Rise Skinny Jeans!
A salute to Gap's Limited Edition High Rise Skinny Jeans!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The Great Coffee Heist
Much to the chagrin of our less caffeine inclined parents; Jared and I are coffee drinkers. Though we don’t consume a constant drip of Folgers throughout the day on par with our Lutheran friends, we do generally imbibe in a couple mugs of a local roast in the morning followed by an Americano in the afternoon and often some homebrewed local decaf to cuddle with at night. What can I say, we love our coffee.
Ryann caught on to this early. Once she mastered the whole point-and-grunt technique, our mugs were frequent items of interest. Usually she’s easily redirected with a ‘this is Mommy’s juice’ and a pat on the back to send her off on other pursuits. Occasionally she’ll ‘accidentally’ drop her sippy of water, proclaim ‘UH OH!’, and then point and ‘URGH?!?!’ But still, off she’ll go with a ‘this is Mommy’s juice’. This was not the case a few days ago.
She came, she pointed, she grunted. Then off she trotted to the kitchen. A few minutes later she came back around the corner. Damp coffee grounds tend to stick to things. Damp coffee grounds straight from the trash can tend to stick to things. This time they were stuck to the kitchen floor, the kitchen wall, and the trash can itself. Of course, this was along with Ryann’s little fist full of them, her other fist still swinging the old filter, and her little grinning mouth brimming with old grounds. She may have missed a nap after that.
Monday, January 24, 2011
My New Favorite Map
This is officially my new favorite map. I consider myself a proud resident of the state of bestiality. Proud resident. Not proud of my residency's apparent claim to fame. Just thought I'd clarify that one for you.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Mobility and the Awe it Inspires
Ryann is officially mobile. She's been working up the courage to take the leap for the last few weeks, practicing getting on all fours and then sliding to the ground. On Saturday she decided it was go-time. There is now no keeping her from the stack of CDs in the corner of the living room or the cat toys under the couch. Or the wads of lint and cat hair she manages to find on the rug, her new favorite delicacy. Yesterday she managed to stuff a freshly harvested clump into her mouth before we could stop her and proceeded to get it caught in her throat. Have no fear, this is not the choking-on-object-cannot-get-air-turning-blue type of choking here. This is the something-foreign-tickling-throat type of choking. This was followed by several minutes of coughing off and on and finished off with a grand finale of sudden puking on the rug, toys, and Mommy. However she was able to play in the shower because of all this.
Saturday was a crazy day of trying out her new skills and getting rug burned knees. When bedtime came she must have decided that I wasn't quite impressed enough, as she calmly proceeded to stand up in her crib. I don't think I'm okay with this new learning curve.
Saturday was a crazy day of trying out her new skills and getting rug burned knees. When bedtime came she must have decided that I wasn't quite impressed enough, as she calmly proceeded to stand up in her crib. I don't think I'm okay with this new learning curve.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Diaper Full of Hot-Burning-Baby
Last night I burned Ryann. She still whimpers when we change her diaper, which may not seem too bad, except that she usually laughs. She giggles from the tickle of the cold wipes and sometimes keeps going to full-on belly laughs with the requisite writhing. But right now she whimpers and we dab. Because I burned my baby's bum.
I was cooking dinner while Ryann was taking a nap. I decided to put some jalapeno into my rice to spice it up a bit. Delicious. Slid the enchiladas into the oven, washed my hands, and went to get the waking baby in the other room. As usual, we went straight to the changing table to take off the sopping nap-diaper. No biggie. But shortly after the usual diaper change, my very happy baby started to get . . . not so happy. She started to get antsy. Then agitated. Then downright crazy. Ryann does not get crazy. Unless she's being tickled by her daddy. And that's a whole different kind of crazy. She was taking part in the all-out-baby-screaming-people-staring-mommy-crying-cats-running-neighbors-calling kind of crazy. I un-diapered her. She looked a bit red. More wipes. An even more extreme level of crazy. That's when I put two and two together. AHA! Jalapenos and baby genitals do not mix. We jumped straight into a cool tub and washed with tons of soap. The cool tub was the best thing my frazzled mind could have thought of. Ryann calmed down. Then the doorbell rang. And rang. And I realized that dear daddy had forgotten his keys. We jumped out and I ran down the stairs in a towel, unlocked the door, and bolted back up the stairs yelling that I had burned Ryann. Oh me oh my. She was fairly happy the rest of the night, though she spent it laying down, as she couldn't yet sit on her sore rump.
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