We introduced our girls to each other, who are one year and one day apart. Last time she was here, Annabelle was crawling around, and just seeing a baby in my house gave me the vapors. Now she's a toddler, and seeing that preview of Gracie's future is equally as unnerving. Annabelle is the sweetest little dumpling, and I'm so glad she and Gracie will grow up only 5 hours apart now. I'm determined to make them best friends for life. Gracie was unsure when I carried her downstairs to a house full of strangers, but she quickly warmed up. I had been preparing Sarah that Miss Stranger Danger would probably scream at first sight, but she proved me wrong. She screams whenever anyone she doesn't recognize makes eyes at her, and every time I think "hey, that's my DNA at work!" She loved Sarah and her whole family and after awhile couldn't stop smiling at them. Either she's growing up or is just an excellent judge of character.
We're leaving for California in just over a week. But here's the kicker: we have to fly in the evening, during bedtime. It was the only flight available during our timeframe, and I'm terrified. I am going to be that person with the screaming baby, I just know it. She gets so fussy when she's overtired (but so do I!) and doesn't usually fall asleep in my arms these days, not to mention that we're currently in the throes of teething. I'm hoping the motion of the plane will knock her right out. If you see a headline of a mother who was tarred and feathered upon arrival to LAX, it was me. I did buy her some jammies with palm trees on them to help soften the blow. The logistics of flying with a baby aren't stressing me out quite as much as the thought of a 3 hour time change. Some days I feel all loosey-goosey-go-with-the-flow-it-will-all-work-out-peace-and-kumbaya about it, and other times I'm ready to don myself in all black to mourn the loss of a bedtime and routine. Whatever. It will all work out. When I start to stress, I think about In-N-Out and fresh ocean air. And MOUNTAINS. Gasp.
It's just starting to turn to fall here. Some of the leaves are changing and it's going to be in the 60s (THE SIXTIES) this weekend. I am overcome with anticipation and will be burning my fall candles accordingly. It's hard to run headlong into fall's embrace when in a week I'll be heading for the land of the eternal summer. All I want to do is put my 5 (sigh) summer shirts away and dance with my sweaters, but instead I have to try to squeeze my baby weight into a pair of shorts I've had hidden in my closet so they'll stop taunting me.
I'm so tired of the humidity and the bugs. I was outside for a collective 20 minutes on Monday, but I'm covered in mosquito bites and going crazy. I have three giant welts on my forehead that are testing the limits of my sanity. Nothing stops the itching. I had to go to bed with a cold compress on my forehead last night because it was the only thing that helped me stop clawing myself. I look like I have smallpox. The strap of my shirt keeps rubbing the bite on my shoulder and it's sending me through the roof. These weren't just any ordinary mosquitos that bit me--they were hell-bent on revenge, probably for all the ones I've killed this summer. You're welcome for letting you in on this very trying time in my life.
I rarely have the TV on during the day (unless it's nap time and I need something mindless on), but I watch I Love Lucy every morning at 7:30 while Gracie nurses. There's no better way to start the day than with a little Lucille Ball. Anyway, sometimes I'll watch a little Good Morning America or The Today Show afterwards, because if I don't watch how else will I learn the BREAKING NEWS that muffins have sugar in them? I kind of hate morning shows...they're so damn peppy and fluffy (I will never ever care what so-and-so wore on the red carpet) and nothing important is ever said, but they're occasionally entertaining.
Anyway, Justin Bieber was on The Today Show this morning, and I have some thoughts on the matter. I realize I am no longer a hip teen but am rather a (still hip) stay-at-home-mom with a yarn stash who is getting dangerously close to 30, but I've never liked that scoundrel. Why do people still fawn over this guy? Is he on drugs still? He couldn't have looked more zoned out if he tried. His songs sound almost monotone and he looked like he would've rather done anything but perform. Is smiling no longer trendy or something? I couldn't understand a word he was singing. E-NUNCE-EE-ATE. His new bleached hair makes him look exactly like Miley Cyrus. I didn't turn the TV off because it was all so ridiculous I couldn't look away. I feel like the proverbial old man wagging his finger and yelling at the kids to get off his lawn. Get off my TV, Bieber. Get off my radio, all pop music. Just go back from whence you came before my IQ drops any lower.
Lest you think I'm atop my high horse, I assure you I'm not. Had this been the early 2000s and The Backstreet Boys were performing, I would've fainted dead away at the first glimpse of Nick Carter. I almost needed some smelling salts to revive me when I saw Justin Timberlake two years ago. But I think we can all agree that Nick and JT > Bieber. If not, get off my lawn.
I would write more, but someone is back to 30 minute naps (Lord, help), so this will have to do. I think I might have to go get myself some pumpkin coffee today so I can cope.
I feel like I'm ending this on a downer and I don't mean to, so here are some happy things so you don't think I'm going through the day with a perma-scowl: Watermelon Kiwi La Croix makes me weak in the knees, tacos for dinner, mug cakes, James has the weekend off, it's going to be in the 60s (THE SIXTIES), Gracie has a mullet.
I'm so proud that this is my contribution to society.