It's raining outside and raining coffee drops inside. In my mouth.
Sorry, was that weird?
It's just that I don't talk to a lot of adults lately.
But if you need me to make up a song about the color of your shirt, I'm your girl.
Maybe a haiku? I don't know.
Give me another cup of coffee and I'll get you a limerick too.
Anyway, it's Monday. I'm at home recovering because we took on the very arduous task of taking a baby to church yesterday. We've tried the last couple of Sundays, but we never quite made it. But yesterday, we made it. We made it. We may have been twenty minutes late, but we were there. We go to a small church, and we walked in during a rather somber announcement. James was trying to hightail to a seat, and he drove the stroller right into a table causing the entire congregation to turn around and stare at us. I froze and probably wet my pants a little. I died of humiliation. I'm not actually blogging, my ghost is. Gracie later took advantage of a quiet moment to display her, uh, gastrointestinal distress? I came back to life just to die again. But of laughter this time.
I said I'm at home recovering like I'd be anywhere else. I QUIT MY JOB, REMEMBER?! So happy to be home, but also fantasizing about sitting in meetings, because right now that sounds like a cheap version of a beach vacation.
What? Babies are exhausting.
So anyway, we took the baby to church. She attracted a small crowd. I loved it. I had adult conversation. I loved it. If you're shy and/or struggle with small talk, have a baby. I'm serious! They're the perfect buffer, literally and figuratively. They're the perfect topic of conversation, and they're a literal buffer in that you can awkwardly push the stroller back and forth instead of wondering WHAT DO I DO WITH MY HANDS THIS IS WEIRD. Whenever I feel awkward I'm like OH CRAP SHE SPIT UP AGAIN and then I dig a burp rag out and wipe her face down before they notice she never actually spit up and I'm just really uncomfortable. So yeah, I talked to strangers and acquaintances without wanting to vomit. Progress.
In other news, I'm feeling real stress about making sure Gracie wears all her outfits that currently fit before she grows out of them. REAL STRESS. It happens so fast! She has a better wardrobe than I do, and I'm not just saying that because 90% of her onesies and shirts involve cats.
Ok well maybe I am.
It's just that she looks so purrrfect in them.
Sorry. That pun was physically painful, wasn't it?
I'm not even kitten right meow.
In more other news, I need to paint my toenails again.
I'm sorry for telling you that.
If I could, I would push the stroller back and forth right now to cope with that awkward moment. Good thing this isn't in person and I'm on the couch...NOT wearing my maternity leggings.
Or am I?
You'll never know.
Yes you will.
I'm wearing them.
I'm leaving now. I'm against some deadlines right now...
...at the library.
I know. But at least I made myself sound important for a minute?
I don't know. The caffeine is wearing off. And the baby is crying.
Maybe we'll chat again?