I still have a blog???

I miss blogging. I feel like I'm neglecting to document memories here. Like everyone is missing out on the amazing but normal things that Charlie does everyday. But every time I sit down to write, something happens and I put it off again.

I think it's a slow process, the adding back of those things you do for yourself, when there is so much you have to do for someone else.

Like I just now finished the book I started two weeks before Charlie was born. That's five months ago, y'all. And I just stared reading blogs again, and thinking about fashion again. I rode my bike for the first time last week.

Not to mention that now I somehow have a "nightly beauty regime." I call it that because I never did any of that junk before, but now I have one. Face cream, stretch mark cream, foot cream. I miss just falling into bed sometimes, but what would I do without my creams?!? Probably melt.

Anyway, I'd like to add back blogging. We will see how it goes.

Things I've Thrown at Preston

Right now, I'm sitting in my living room, on my big brown couch, watching Preston rock Charlie. They both look like they're sleeping but I'm quite certain that neither of them are actually asleep. When I am the one sitting in the rocker, holding my baby and patiently waiting for him to close his eyes and drift off into nap land, Preston is usually sprawled out on this big brown couch, sometimes underneath an old, ugly-but-feels-like-a-cuddle quilt given to me by my high school boyfriend's mom. Sometimes, his head has landed on the pillow that we use to prop our feet on, or that our dog uses as a prop for one of his disgusting chew toys. You know, the pillow that we should throw away but haven't yet.

Usually, the moment that I notice how comfortable Preston looks on this couch is the same moment that I need him to do something for me, like bring me a pacifier, or a soft blinkie, or a wet rag, or my phone or a glass of water or a snack. I could go on. Some of these things are not really necessary, but more often than not, what I need is for a blanket to be laid out on the guest bed in a swaddle style so I can wrap Charlie up and lay him down for a nap.

I can't just say "Hey Pres, go lay me out a swaddle!" because of the precious sleeping baby in my arms. And surprisingly, Preston doesn't wake to the sound of me whispering his name repeatedly, no matter how many times I try it and will it to work.

So I throw things at him.

Not big, hurtful things, but soft things, or small things. Like a balled up blanket, or our Winnie the Pooh toy/blanket thingie, or a throw pillow, or this teething ring, or a pacifier. I aim for the couch area around him, or his arm, and it usually wakes him enough so that when I whisper yell his name, he opens his eyes. I don't think he ever realizes that I've just thrown an arsenal of baby items at him.

Poor guy.

What I Did Last Week

We spent last week at our lake house. It was super fun and relaxing. I hadn't been on the boat in so long, the whole time I was pregnant at least. The two most exciting moments on the boat were 1) going all the way to the far side of the lake, looking ahead at a beautiful blue sky, then turning around to see a giant black rain cloud following us. We pulled into the marina and waited out the storm in the boat and then, once we were able to tie the boat up, in the little restaurant with a glass of wine. And 2) A night ride on July 4th to see the fireworks. Our neighbors decided to do this... 

Our friend Derek made this photo illustration of all of their fireworks. 

I got to play with my new toy, the paddle board my parents got me for my birthday. Cooper, who would rather be a fish than a dog, jumped on it the first chance he got and I couldn't keep him off. After two days, I had taught him to lay on the front of the board while I paddled. He wore his little doggie life vest that has a handle, so if he jumped off, it was easy to pull him back onto the board. I also taught him to jump off the board when we got to the boat houses and swim into shore along side the board. It was a fun way to play with the dog, especially since he doesn't get as much attention as he used to get now that there's a baby in the house. 

The is me saying, "Don't take my picture."

Charlie had a fabulous time. He gave us lots of smiles and giggles and provided hours of entertainment for Mimi and Bebe (Preston's parents). 

And I found this hat on our boat.

Really, I asked Preston if he had an extra hat, thinking he might have brought an extra baseball cap from his large collection of baseball caps. He then proceeded to open and rummage through the little cabinet on the boat, where his parents keep the life jackets they purchased in 1984 along with other boating paraphernalia that has accumulated over the past several years.

Just when I said that I didn't think I was interested in a hat if it was coming from that far back in that cabinet, he pulled out this cool floppy straw hat. I don't usually like these. They remind me of fuffy ladies that don't like to get their hair wet, or the sales lady in Pretty Woman that wouldn't let Julia buy any nice clothes. But this one had a cool, retro, seventies feel. Probably because it's been in that cabinet since some fuffy lady left it on the boat during the seventies. And there were no spiders on it, which is always a plus. Totally keeping it.

Beautiful Nails

I'm feeling pretty good lately. I feel normal. By normal, I mean that I don't feel like a zombie. 

So I got a mani/pedi. Really, I got a manicure, and then a color change on my toes, so a cheap pedi. That's how I roll. Then I added a design to my big toes, which added an extra charge (unfortunately, also how I roll.) 

Although I feel more normal, I also feel fashionably stifled. I've got a postpartum tummy that shrikes at the mention of a waistband and sighs in comfort at the thought of nightgowns and empire waist dresses. I've got these giant breast feeding boobs that would end my most awesome strapless bra like a luchador team on steroids. Coupled with the fear that each piece of jewelry I wear exponentially increases the risk of scratching my baby, I don't have much room for creative expression.  

I left the house determined to return with toes that screamed 4th of July but by the time I sat in the chair, I wanted something that just kind of whispered it... or coral.

What I got were Wonder Woman Toes.

If you can't put a photo of your own toes on your blog,
it's not worth it.

I. Love. Them. I love their tackiness. I love the glitter. I love their spirit. Most of all, I love that I feel so confident. If I can wear these toes, I can do anything. I have never, at least as an adult, had any kind of nail art on my person. I didn't realize it would be so empowering. 

Baby slang part 2

Just a few more terms that you might hear around our house...

I Sold him to the gypsies: this means that we put Charlie down for a nap in the pack n play in our bedroom rather than the crib in his room. As in... "where's Charlie?" "I sold him to the gypsies." "oh, ok." I don't know where we got that. Just roll with it.

Put eyes on him: we say this when we want to check on him in person, not with the monitor. I just think its a sweet thug to say.

Gang gang (s): This is Charlie's first baby slang term. He says this when he is super upset and hungry. As if he is saying, "Im hungry and I want my gang gangs NOW, people!" He doesn't say it when he is just upset, or just tired. So basically, that what he calls my boobs. Gang gangs.