Little O' This, Milk It

Long Time

I have not been feeling very bloggy lately.  Maybe it was the hustle and bustle of the holidays where I was busy doing things in the real world and not just living my life online, or dealing with the challenge of caring for a sick infant, but I haven’t been really itching to get to my blog and share the details of how Avelyn’s puke is really mucousy these days as the virus leaves her system or how I had a Chinese smorg for dinner tonight. 
Actually, I should tell you about the smorg.  It was delicious.  There is this little place here called Johnnie’s and it is your stereotypical small town restaurant that hasn’t been renovated since the 60s.  The carpet is tinged with age and soy sauce stains, there are shiney porcelain buddhas at the till, the placemats are made of paper, but the food is good.  We have mastered the art of eating in shifts.  I usually go first and wolf down my platter in mere minutes while Steve jostles Avelyn and walks laps around the restaurant.  Then it’s his turn to eat and I get my exercise toting around our 16 pound girl and bouncing her as we step because if she’s not moving, she’s angry.  Tonight at Johnnie’s while Steve was holding her and giving her a bottle she spat it out of her mouth and distinctively said, "Mom."
I am not lying.
I know it was (most likely) a complete fluke.  But it sure was nice to hear, regardless.
In other news, we have added a new song to Avelyn’s repetoire.  I am one of those people who, to remain sane while tending a little baby all day long, sings and talks to her baby all day long so I don’t feel lonely.  Avelyn loves Twinkle, Twinkle and Baby Beluga but I like to get a little more creative than that and come up with my own songs too.  The most recent ballad is sung to the tune of Phoebe’s Smelly Cat song and I sing it to Avelyn as I change her diaper, but only if it’s an especially vile deposit:
 
Poopy pants, poopy pants.
What are they feeding you?
Poopy pant, poopy pants.
It’s not your fault.
 
When Steve is home he sings the harmony part.  
Don’t you wish you were a fly on the wall in our house? 
 

9 Comments

  • I think I’d love it! Being a fly on the wall, that is. Blogginess goes in waves, I’ve discovered. Today, all I can think of is BLOG. It’s pretty lame, actually.

  • Hi Amanda! Did you know that you can take out the smorg at Johnnies and eat it at home? Yep. Take out smorg in a stryofoam container. You can really stuff alot into that little container. I usually have to hold it closed with both hands on the way to the car!

  • Yum … Johnnies.

    I did get to be a fly on your wall for a month. It’s pretty entertaining.

  • I am going to start singing that right away!!

  • You guys are quite funny.

  • Can you believe I’ve never been to Johnnies? And great song – I’ve sang something similar, but Matthew doesn’t sing, so no harmony here :)

  • Ha! I love the song.

  • Was mom her first words? I didn’t miss a post with first words did I?

    Love the song. Nothing beats singing silly songs.

    For your enjoyment:

    http://free-zg.htnet.hr/zrzrzrzrzrzr/operababy.swf

  • Sounds like fun days, and I agree about the blogging going in waves. There are days when it’s all you can do and them times when it really doesn’t matter.

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