Clearly Instagram Sunday belongs to more type-A people than me because I choose to do Instagram-whatever-damn-day-it-is.
So, today is the day. Because it just is.
We are enjoying our new home, figuring out how we will use the space, getting used to things, small people getting lost every now and then, and dealing with a real acoustics problem. I mean, it sounds like my husband is pouring coffee onto my pillow when he is across the house in the kitchen at four a.m. preparing his morning joe. It’s so strange and we have got to get some rugs and curtains up in this house to try and absorb some of that sound travel!
Paisley is just growing up too much. She really is in her terrible twos, or is just going to turn out just like me and we are going to be in for it. I love that little bug, she is going to really give us a run for our money, though.
When dry shampoo is not enough.
Someone got their first haircut. Rise against the baby mullet. Seriously, parents.
Helping me shop. Don’t you dare try to take those crackers away from her even though she hasn’t eaten one in an hour. I learn these lessons the hard way.
We FINALLY wore sandals! Welcome, summer :)
Not only sandals, but little rompers and walks in the stroller. This makes for one happy girl.
Daddy naps. Whatever works.
I think we will be “moving in” for the next 6 months.
This photo is not intentionally sloppy. That was the actual state of my utensil drawer when I opened it.
I’d like to thank Wal-Mart and the inventor or Rubbermaid drawer dividers. Thank you.
Get in my belleh. I have an unhealthy burrito addiction.
New phrase: “Oh nooo!”. And for the first time this weekend, she copied what I said without being prompted. I said “Oh dear” in the parking lot and she quickly repeated like a little parrot. Does this mean I’m going to have to start watching my language? DAMMIT!
I’m coming around to this the hard way. My daughter is me. It takes a basket full of expensive, dermatologist recommended, fragrance-free, super plus therapy, natural, hypoallergenic
shit stuff to keep her from breaking out in hives or some other terrible disaster. It’s like me all over again in miniature form. Hi, Mom- I am sorry I did this to you. Don’t worry, I’m getting mine now.
I don’t think I am going to EVER have my husband mount my body mirror in the new house. The further I lean it against the wall, the taller and skinnier I get. I like having this type of control :)