In which I pimp products

ok, 2 products*

A few days ago, in order to beat the insane (for South Bay) heat, we headed to the mall. It was full of people who had the exact same idea. I know you're shocked.

Normally, my child hangs out in his stroller for about a mile before he either passes out completely or lets the entire world know just what kind of injustice he  is suffering at the hands of his (very mean) mommy.

That day, however, I was prepared. I had a whopping FOUR OUNCES of breastmilk in a brand new sippy/bottle from ThinkBaby (pictured above)...also known as Bunny's favorite new toy. It's the only bottle/cup that he drinks from with minimal fussing and playing. It's the only time he's ingested a significant amount of milk from anything that isn't my boob when I've been around. The kicker, though? He fed himself.

He fed himself.

Four ounces.

Happily.

 Happy Baby = Happy Mommy.

I think it's the spout and the kid-sized handles. It will convert from a bottle, too, which is a total bonus. If only I'd heard about them sooner. But now we know.

So how did we hear about them? I'll tell you. I want to kick myself. After you read, you'll do a facepalm, too.

I was in one of my favorite baby boutiques (BabyBuzz) about to buy shoes for my child who wants to stand all the time, even on wood chips - which is the ground cover at both close parks. The owner, who is fantastic, was having a meeting with the owners of ThinkBaby. They wander out and tell me all about their product. I am intrigued. They coo over Bunny (because he is very coo-worthy, but on this day we were both sleep deprived from the teething that seems to never end and he wasn't his high wattage self) and then the very nice ThinkBaby owner says something along the lines of: "Hi, Sebastian, would you like to be a Thinkbaby model?'

Did you read the part about sleep deprivation?

Because I apologized for our general demeanor and told him how tired Bunny was.

The answer I should have given?

(it's about 1:52)

Right. The answer is YES.

sigh.

He's a cranky pants,  but he could earn his keep. 

I kid.

Anyway - I love this sippy. I'll have to pick up at least one more so we can rotate.

The other product in that shot up there? A Mommy Necklace. Cute, carcinogen-free, durable, guaranteed for 3 years....I don't know what they did, but when Bunny yanks it doesn't even hurt my neck. I wear it a lot. It helps focus him while he nurses (sometimes.) And when necessary, it doubles as a sippy leash.

(I can't for the life of me remember who makes this place mat, but it is also awesome. It suctions to the table and has a trough for catching fallen star noodles.)

*I am not employed by anyone mentioned above. I'm not employed at all. Nothing was swag. Being a card-carrying member of the suburban housewife set, I paid for these. And they were worth every penny.

An Ordinary Day

A friend of mine challenged us to post up a "day in the life" blog entry. 

I accepted her challenge and devoted Wednesday to snapping an almost minute-by-minute account of what it is we do all day. 

First: we get up. And by "we" I mean "Steve and Bunny." I roll out of bed anywhere from 5-90 minutes later, depending on the morning and the quality of sleep the night before. 

Steve and Bunny make coffee and read the news.

We say goodbye to Steve (who cycles to work) and then we get dressed.

We put on sunscreen

And go to the park:

This day, we swung by Pizza My Heart for my lunch, which made the walk about 2 miles. 

So we found a shady spot and got settled.

While I munched on my (mushroom) slice, we pondered why anyone would want to play golf on a baseball diamond.

Then we wondered why people play golf at all...

Then we read. (review to come - I highly recommend it.)

We practiced crawling. Then there were people playing pickup basketball on the court so every ounce of our practice stopped while Bunny tried to figure out just how tall he would have to be to get the ball into his mouth.

He settled for my finger.

And when I took it away to get out the bubbles, he decided to try his hand at a selfie:

I distracted him by blowing bubbles at a squirrel.

 bubbles not pictured.

If it takes all day, he's going to get this ball in his mouth. (Note the tongue and the determined expression.)

After a while we decided that our blanket had been played out, so we hit the swings, aka: Bunny's newest addiction.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "sheesh, how idyllic. What a charming and delightfully well behaved baby. What a deliciously relaxing life. I'd like to slow down and have lovely warm afternoons in the park, too..."

Well, there are two sides to every baby.

Above: happy park baby.

Below: what happens when he falls asleep in the stroller and wakes up too early with tooth pain in our boring house.

(actually, this is what extreme separation anxiety looks like. The treatment is to walk out of the room anyway.  This behavior, which in reality lasts a total of however long I'm out of reach, is nearly my undoing. We are all hopeful that once his gnarly little teeth cut he will chill the fuck out. Until then, I wear a scarlet A on my nursing bra. A for Asshole.) 

Of course, once he's blown that out and plays some more and gets a little more milk in him, it's time to feed the outdoor kitties.

 Cylon.

Toaster.

Not pictured: Wookie (also small and grey), Widget (black and white), Scarface (black and white), and Hunley (all black.) If you're interested in adopting one or all of these little guys, let me know. They could use a nice warm lap. Once they get over being terrified of humans, that is.

Also not pictured are the indoor kitties (Polly and Kipper) - probably because they spent the day outside under the neighbor's bushes...stalking their chickens. 

Then there was another "nap"

After which we just gave up and played more until Steve came home and we had dinner*.

Yes. This is what my living room looks like 90%of the time. We've covered this.

*not pictured. Fried Chicken.

Babyproofing, step one

Behold: 

the cocktail table. A solid block of wood on legs. It's sturdy, pretty, and it weighs 800 tons.

Also behold: the 90 degree angles that are certain to put an eye out:

(ignore the bleeding stain, please.)

My solution?

CHALK CLOTH.

Because I am a genius of style and whimsy.

I picked up 2" thick bits of foam, secured it around the table with duct tape, and set up my sewing machine....only to have it revolt.

So I called up my friend Amy, a fellow DIY enthusiast, and she called upon some even more knowledgeable ladies, and a few days later....voila!

(this is pretty much always the state of things: ever so slightly disheveled)

I added the mat from Costco and stuck in the spot made available by the re-arranging done when my parents were here (after which everyone in the house said "WHY didn't we do this sooner????") and now there is cushion on both sides for when Bunny pulls up, falls down, scoots over, etc etc.

(I may still bubble wrap the legs...I hear it comes in *colors*)

And the best part? It's chalk cloth, so you can write on it. When it's not covered in life's detritus, that is.

I even made a box in which to keep the chalk.

(tray: target a million years ago. Coasters: cotton/hemp breast pads. They've been washed. They may get tie-dyed if I get up the gumption. Chalk: Target. Box kit and paper: Paper Source.)

Gone

Grandparents