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It’s been a while.  Here is the update that’s been on my to-do list for weeks now.

The Pea is 8 months old these days — no crawling, no teeth.  Yet.  She loves to sit and play and bang toys together and play with her BusyBox.  She’s quickly figuring out all of her toys — so much so that I think I need to buy her more so she has something to challenge her more.  Any suggestions would be welcome.

We love to read books and she likes to turn the pages and eat them.   She loves to tear up her magazine — she’s almost torn it entirely to shreds.  We call that doing her “paperwork.”  She’s content to hang out in her pack and play for 20 or 30 minutes on her own — we call that “office hours.”  She does that when Dad needs to work at the computer during the day.  Apparently, we’re grooming her for a career in a cubicle somewhere.  We dream big

Between Taylor’s and my schedule, we’re incredibly busy.  We never have more than one night a week that’s unscheduled (between work, rehearsals, and gigs), and often we don’t get that or it’s spent doing laundry at my parents’ house.  I think we’re going to start scheduling it in though — one night a week where we make dinner and eat it together, play with and read to the Pea, put her to bed and then actually hang out.  Maybe even (gasp) watch a movie.  And then, to be really crazy, we’re going to start scheduling a date night once a month wherein we go out and leave the baby at home.  Wild.  I’ll let you know if when it happens.

Let’s see.  What else.  Oh!  I’m taking the Pea to Austin to visit my sister next Thursday!  I’m really looking forward to hanging out with my sister and getting some good quality Aunt Sabrina time in for Miss Pea.  But I’m totally overwhelmed at the prospect of flying with her by myself.  Layovers, strollers, toy-throwing, what-must-be-an-18-pound-baby, diaper bag, fear of running out of diapers, solid-feeding in an airport, sitting-next-to-someone-that-hates-children fears.  I’m totally dressing her in her cutest outfit so she charms the pants off anyone that dare look at us crossways

or week, rather, it’s been here in BusyLand.

  • Last night we left the house without any diapers in the diaper bag.*
  • We have plenty of sandwich fixings and no bread.
  • We have almost no gas in the car.**
  • We’re so out of toothpaste that we finished up our old tube and are now on our second travel-size tube.
  • We’ve had a commitment every night this week
  • One of my friends felt pity on us while she was watching the Pea for a few hours and washed our dishes and cleaned our counters because she felt sorry for us. And I love her and am so thankful for her. But, oh thank God that that morning I had frantically removed the disgusting from cleaned the bathroom counter, because, oh I could not bear the shame if my dear wonderful friend had decided to do that for us as well.
  • We haven’t eaten dinner at home for 15 straight days AND COUNTING.***
  • Taylor and I are tired, busy, stressed and on very short fuses with each other. But we’re also pretty quick at apologizing and asking for forgiveness.
  • We’re working on forbearing one another.
  • We’re trying to maintain the bare minimum of clean.****
  • We’re kind of excited about the three-day weekend, but we’ve got early morning commitments for the first two days and will probably make a trip up to see his family on Monday because we haven’t been up there since the last 3-day weekend (July 4).

But all we really want is one whole day (I’ll settle for a few hours, even) to sit around our apartment and be a family.

Maybe sometime in November. I’ll keep you posted.






*Fortunately, we were going to the house of a baby that is 3 weeks younger than the Pea and had all the baby things she could ever want.
**Or washer fluid, but that’s status quo for us.
***This is not because we’re all “I don’t want to cook, let’s go out! Tra La!” — it’s because we’ve had friends or family to see or have to get somewhere fast and don’t have time to cook and eat.
****Thank goodness the Pea isn’t crawling yet, or she’d have eaten her weight in dust bunnies and old food crumbs.

From the Field

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