Carnival of Baby Humor is Here!

We received lots of entries - some so so serious! Hello, people? It's BABY HUMOR. If you don't get it, and soon, I'm going to shut this carnival down.

Okay, now that I'm done ranting, here are the top three.

First place goes to Shen-Li for Don't Underestimate your Toddler. And don't tell them you're going to work when you're going to play!

Second place goes to Dana for her Simple Horror - this one made my skin crawl and not in th least thanks to the picture she has so aptly chosen. I had to scroll down to read the entry so those eyes weren't staring at me. Creepy!

And third prize goes to Middle Man aka David Jones who asks Where is the Volume Control? Thanks to people like David, some of the rest of us get to enjoy a few (quiet) candlelight dates!

Enjoy!

Grace in Ordinary Things

The morning sun is shining on her (still) (almost) bald head.

Her thumb is in her mouth.

Her tummy feels so tight. So tiny and yet so full.

She is looking at the cat. And smiling.

And then she bursts out laughing with glee. Until she falls over on the couch.

I pick her up.

She's still laughing.

The Grass is not Greener

The reading bug has got me lately. Along with the cold bug. Which means I've been reading an insane amount of books. As soon as Bombie is asleep at seven, my husband heads off to the computer (yes, he's one of those thirty-somethings who like video games - hey, to each his own!) and I curl up in bed with a book. Feels like home. Mmmm.

But I digress. Along with some great books ("Dry" by Augusten Burroughs), some guilty pleasures (the entire "Twilight" saga by Stephanie Meyer that Borders keeps insisting is young adult, not bestseller or adult fiction), I'm also reading "Revolutionary Road" by Richard Yates. Sometimes you don't notice books until Hollywood makes movies out of them. Shameful, I know.

Anyway, so far RR is the most infuriating book I've read. Yates gets like that. He seems to be so good at characters who, quite simply, miss the point. The book was irritating me so much in fact that I was whining about it to my husband. No, I didn't stop reading it, though. I have about 100 pages to go. And while I was telling him about the family in the book, he said, "That's like us."

Oh my gosh. It was about a half hour of my telling him how that is so not like us because I would so never be that ungrateful for my life that he said he was kidding. Really, how is that funny?

The grass is really not greener on the other side. I've got home made blueberry ice cream waiting in the freezer, a beautiful baby waking up from a nice, long nap to eat her banana dinner, the kind of husband I can tell to scratch my an itchy spot on my back I can't reach, and a home in the pines where we can see the clouds come in. How much greener can the grass be? Wait. Don't tell me. I don't care.

I think I'll live on my little patch of grass for a long, long time. Body, mind and soul.

Hands and Other Fun Things

These days, Bombie is really into her hands. Fingers, mostly. She loves sticking them in her mouth and biting on them. She also grasps at everything - even if it is not grasp-able. Like the couch pillows, the bed, the cats. She is reaching for her milk bottle too! So, hands here we come! Oh yeah, she has left me a few scratches on my face as well. Maybe it's her own way of saying, C'mon Mommy, cut my nails already. Here. I'll just poke your eye out. That'll be a good reminder. That should work.

Other things Bombie likes so far:

Mommy. (Sniffle.)
Daddy. (Sniffle, sniffle.)
Waking up in the morning.
Diaper changes.
Looking in the mirror.
Applesauce.
Oatmeal.
Squash.
Carrots.
Peas.
"Greenie" - the monster from Monsters, Inc. (His real name is Mike. But come on, reeeallllly?)
"Singing" with the music on.
Watching Daddy and Mommy eat.
Female vocals.
"New Soul" by Yael Naim (her current favorite.)
Watching the dog and the cats.
Her pink blanket.
Formula. Especially in her crib.
Kisses.
Hugs.
Bouncing on Daddy's knee.

There will be more, I'm sure. I'll update this list often.

Letter to Winter

Dear Winter,

Whither art thou? Okay, sorry for opening with those words. They just seem to fit in with the idea of snow. Whither, Wither, Winter...get it? Sorry. I’ll stop it. (Silencing inner nerd.)

But seriously, where are you? Have you forsaken us this year after scaring the crap out of us last year and making us spend whatever money (and time) we didn’t have getting a generator for our newly bought house?

I mean, it’s bad enough that I’m having to dress down my post baby (read: post-Christmas) body, today I was even guilted into spring cleaning! I know, I know. It’s only January. There are still piles of pellets for our stove in our living room!

And all this after giving us every idea of being around during Christmas. So that the cookies went down easy, especially after the brandy and the honey and the pizza and the... well... you get the idea. After all, we were going to be snowed in for a while. I went into hibernation mode!

You know what I think, winter? I think this is your idea of a joke. I think you’re doing this to piss me off. I think you and my husband are in cahoots. He even went out and bought a fishing license for me. A freaking fishing license. In January! Nice try. I’m not buying it. No way am I going to clean the house, open the windows and let the sun shine in.

Oh wait, I already did that. Never mind. You win. Just show up for a while longer, please. Just until I lose the last ten pounds. Or until I get pregnant. So I won’t have to.

Thanks,
Purva.

Something about Having a Baby...

...makes me feel like an expert. And thanks to the Google gods, I can be. But seriously, how hard is cooking, really, when you get down to it? I can't believe I was afraid of it for so long. And now, I'm a goddess in the kitchen, artfully dropping words like "saute" and "stir-fry." Even "garnish" and - do I dare? - "fold?"

It all works pretty well lately, though. I've been making Bombie's food at home. So far she's eaten peas, carrots, apples, bananas, squash, cauliflower, potatoes, and sweet potatoes. Good baby food I can make. Breastmilk? Not so much. So far, I've learned to cook Italian, Indian, Mexican and American. And for the caveat, I'm going to try my hand at homemade ice cream.

Go, mommy!

Babies! Babies! I Want Babies!

Seriously, this commercial makes my uterus ache for a baby. I know, I know, it sounds gross but there's no other way to put it. Ignore the image I just painted and see the commercial.

Carnival of Baby Humor is Here!

Drumroll, please! With many apologies for it being late, here it is.

First place goes to John Duke for his entry of Baby Metrics. He writes a very cute blog about raising daughters over at 2 and a half. Check it out!

Second place goes to Katie Farmington over at Tales from Mom's Couch for her experience with breastfeeding. Although I didn't have as much trouble with it as she did, I did stop after just a month... congrats to Katie for staying with it as long as she did. And not sleeping?!?! The week my baby decided she wanted to breastfeed all night was the week she got on formula! Thanks, Nestle!

We have no third place winner this time. Even with a dozen entries. C'mon people! This is a carnival of baby humor. Some of you got the baby in there and some others got the humor. Now put the two together. Let's see what you've got!

I'm scheduling the next one for Jan 31st. Don't let me down.