Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Discovering spit-up on my clothes doesn't bother me nearly as much as I thought it would. I do maintain some sense of dignity in at least being embarrassed to discover it after I've already left the house.
You know that joke of the husband doing the dishes being the best aphrodisiac for a mom? Yeah, not a joke.
I'm more hormonal and emotional now than when I was pregnant. Glee makes me cry. Fun times!
The fastest way to get on my good side is to compliment my baby. I'm easy that way.
My bedtime is about 9:00. My brain stops working around 6:00.
I really need to put Anna's personal shoppers on a shopping freeze. I wish they didn't find such cute stuff. But I ran out of room at least 3 weeks ago and I doubt Stevo will let me trade rooms with the baby.
I've caught myself swaying...without Anna in my arms...on multiple occasions. Muscle memory perhaps? I'll stick with that theory and not the obvious possibility that I'm going a little nuts.
I forget to eat lunch at least 3 times a week. When I do eat lunch, it's usually soup. In a drinking glass.