Sorry I haven’t been blogging (Steve), but I’ve been a little busy, and honestly, not much has changed in my mind since the last few things I posted. I have a baby girl. She’s awesome. There you go.
My favorite time of day is when she’s cried/eaten/pooped herself into complacency, and we bond, stomach to stomach, in the living room armchair. She likes when we watch cartoons, I just know it. Kim Possible is an early frontrunner for her favorite.
Late night damage control is a common thing. She’s not hungry, she’s clean, she’s comfortable, she’s just batshit crazy for some reason. Then again, her daddy is the king of all-nighters (or was when he was a college boy), so if she’s Nocturna, Baby of the Night, no surprises there. She calms down as soon as we put on Pee-Wee’s Playhouse anyway. I’ve said it a million times: Thank God for Adult Swim.
So tomorrow, the family and I are heading north: over the border and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we go, eh? And by “house”, I really mean “resort that’s pretty far into the Canadian wilderness.” In the opposite direction from Greg Fornasiero. Don’t expect too much posty goodness until I get back at the end of the week, but then expect a metric tonne of pictures: Maeve, sleeping on a chesterfield. Maeve, throwing up into a serviette. Maeve, wearing her first toque. Maeve, held by Alan Thicke.
2 years ago