peppermint spaz

There.  Peppermint spaz.  That’s just to prove she’s not always a perfect Norman Rockwell poster child.  She burbles and flails with the best of them.  Of course, she’s adorable doing that too.  But hey, now there’s a picture here for which she can hate me in her teen years.  Just… making… the appropriate tags… so she can find it… in 2025.

Wow.  2025.  Dang.  13 years old in 2025.  Wow.

Brain jarred off rails… moving on.

That’s better.  She’s factory certified adorable again, and definitely still a baby, and perched on her dada’s prodigious belly so she can have her brain melted by television at the tender age of two months old.  (Weird that she can be two days shy of nine weeks old, yet she’s two months old.  Don’t tell me we don’t need a metric calendar.)

She does love the big moving lights though.  Walking Dead will have to wait til after bedtime.  Don’t want her getting any ideas about what to do with her dada if he’s slow to wake up one morning.

Gainfully employed already!  Probably you can make loads of cash as a shopping cart, right?  What are they, 25 cents a pop?  And by the look of it, no worries about messing with the nap schedule.

In other news, the Super Secret script is just about there.  There’s a musical number that needs a second verse, and we’re postponing that effort until we can get together over a couple beer.  Because that’s how we roll.  Hilarious styles.  And doing our part for the local economy.

Did I mention that Marjorie was given a sparkling clean bill of health by the midwife?  Hot baths are now legal?  And such?  It’s been a lovely Saturday.  We had cookies!  That part’s not midwife related.  But it is delicious.  There should be more cookies around here.

The only downside all day wasn’t until tonight – poor Avery was having trouble with a stuffed nose.  Poor little thing couldn’t even nurse.  So we tried out, I kid you not, the Snotsucker.  I’m having a hard time coming up with a worse name to highlight how bad a name it is.  How they arrived at that particular decision is beyond me.  Nevertheless, it’s safe, and with a quick spritz of saline a minute beforehand, it works like a charm.  Brilliant.  If… gooey.  I’ll qualify that by saying that Avery is not a fan.  Too strange.  But she got over it quickly enough, so… win.  And recovery the second time only took a minute.  Being able to breath beats the trauma of however you got there, I guess.

And now she’s sleeping like the baby she is.  2025 is way down the road.  Pretty sure I won’t let that keep me up tonight.  Pretty sure…