It snowed yesterday!! Our backs almost broke from all the shoveling.


I can’t believe it’s already February. That means my baby will be one next month. ONE YEAR OLD. How did this happen? Wasn’t she just born eight minutes ago? Wasn’t I just sobbing uncontrollably after my csection? I still haven’t recovered from that experience. Wasn’t I just taking fourteen million pictures of her first bath? Now she’s outgrown her baby tub so she sits in a laundry basket in the big tub and eats the shampoo bottle. Wasn’t I just watching Christopher give her a bottle for the first time? This morning she ate pancakes for breakfast with the appetite of a teenage boy. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE AND HOW CAN I MAKE IT STOP. The only thing keeping me from going into deep, deep depression is planning her birthday party. I almost can’t type the words “birthday party” without hyperventilating. It’s bumblebee themed and naturally she’ll wear her tiara because she’s the queen bee. We’ve mailed an invitation to Prince George but he hasn’t replied yet. We’d be happy to reschedule the party to accommodate any conflicts with his social calendar. 

(Brief intermission. I hear some screeching from the crib.)

(Four hours, one lunch, two nursing sessions, a trip to Gap, a stop at Walgreens and I’m back.)

I declared We decided as a couple to make February the month of no unnecessary spending. I don’t generally spend much money anyway but someone around here really needs to learn how to rein it in. That Annabelle thinks money grows on trees. I thought we were going to fail before we started when, on February 1st, Christopher suggested we stop at Panera on the way home from church. I shut that down real fast. Yesterday Sesame and I went to Once Upon A Child to find some pants that fit. She has the waist of a 6 month old but the legs of a five year old. Wouldn’t you know that the ONE time they have bows 50% off is three days after I start my self-imposed spending ban. I tried to justify buying twelve by saying they were different styles than she already has and, everyone knows, bows are as vital to life as oxygen so it was a necessary purchase. I wonder if there’s therapy for bow addicts.  


If we can’t have new bows at least we have crowns.