A Letter To My Sleeping Toddler

My sweet sweet Riley.

Your sleeping self conjures up nothing but maternal love within me.  Well, maybe also a big sigh of relief, but mostly an overwhelming, break-me-in-two-if-I-think-about-it, deep deep love for you.  Your little curled and twisty self, contorted beyond what my mind can comprehend as a viable option for sleeping, reminds me of all of the best things about you without any of the challenging parts.  

See?
Our days ARE fun!
Its just, when you're sleeping, you can't get any more toys out... :)

Our days are good and full and fun and I don't mean to sound as though I'm wishing them away.  I don't.  But when you're sleeping, the weight of my responsibility to you nearly takes my breath away.  It could be that you're so innocent there, so dependent and so confident in your daddy & I, I'm not sure.  I do know, looking at you there dreaming and snoring slightly, that we are going to fail you.

I hate that.

If I had my way with it, you'd never hear the glass break, never see the picture-perfect crumble.  We'd never disappoint you, let alone make you sad or less-than-pleased with us.  I can completely understand the parents who bend rules and move mountains to make sure their precious babe is never sad.  There's a part of me that wants that for you.

But God gave you a human Mama, and I've already failed you.  Heck, you weren't even 4 mo. old when I caught your arm in your zipper and caused that little blood blister.  It was almost a year and a half ago, and I still remember that sick feeling that comes when you cause your baby's pain.  Since then, I've failed you in bigger and smaller ways, and it'll continue in this vein, no matter how much I try to do anything but that.

I am trying not to hate these failures.  There is a reason that I can't make your days perfect.  I know that, in part because I will never be perfect, you're going to see God even more clearly.  When I mess up and have to ask your forgiveness, you'll see that everyone requires absolution from God.  When I somehow, in some way, break a small part of your heart (a phrase that it is killing me to write), you'll learn that anyone can let you down, but you've got a friend who sticks closer than a brother.  

If I could make your days perfect, dear one, you'd never have any reason to seek God.  You'd never know that you have a need, and so you'd never find the cure.  And that would be the worst.  As much as it tears me apart and makes me tear up (no lie, this is hard to write!), you need to feel the sting of failure, the pain of a broken heart, the disappointment of your Mama & Daddy coming up short.  I don't wish the hurt for you, but I would hate to see you go without the wisdom and insight that those experiences will bring you.  

All of these feelings, they hit me nearly every night when I check in on you before heading to bed myself.  You snooze and turn over, and my mind flashes through all of the things yet to come, the good and the bad.  You've got so much in front of you, and I hope that it is mostly full of joy and love and good times.  And when the hard and the bad comes, I hope you learn those lessons quickly.  And when they're my fault, I hope you're especially skilled at forgiveness.

You've captured my heart, you sleeping girl.  This love that breaks me apart, it fills me up too.  You being here, with us, given to us, is refining me, just as it will refine you.  We'll learn together through our days and I'll watch you sleep at night and feel all of these feelings.  The fact that someday you may do the same with your someday daughter, well, I can't even go there, I'm already too much of a mess.

Sweet dreams my girl.  Can't wait to hang out with you tomorrow!

<3 M.

Toddlers & Art :: Finger Painting In A Box

Thus far, up until last week, I somehow I ignored the fact that my daughter, RG, might like to make things.  I mean, I loooooove to make things, and Riley loves all things, but I didn't make the connection.  It took her coming home, repeatedly, with crafts from daycare, for me to realize that we had never actually made a craft ourselves.  Unless pens from Mommy's purse and an old take-out menu count.  In which case, we've made 2.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to be intentional with creating things with my 20 mo. old (SERIOUSLY.  HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!?  YES, I KNOW I'M SHOUTING, BUT I'M IN SHOCK!).  We've had a few very fun projects so far, and I think I might be hooked.  Now, the projects RG & I do, they will never be perfect.  Or very well-planned.  Or necessarily attractive by the time all is said and done.  But we will have fun.  Of that, you can be most certain.

Today's art project comes to you courtesy of IKEA, who loves providing more cardboard boxes than any living soul knows what to do with.  Last night, after unpacking and wrangling and sweating and baptist-cursing (you know, like "dang it!" and "for the love!" and "I swear, I'm gonna........."), we had put together not only a child's chair, stuffed wingback, and couch-that-is-too-large-for-our-living-room, but also an impressive stack of cardboard sheets and boxes.

And the boxes, they spoke to me.  They said "We can hold things.  All sorts of things.  Things like messes."  And BOOM.  Inspiration.  

So this afternoon, I took sweet little Riley, got her down to a diaper, and plopped her in one of the boxes in our sun porch, which was by 4 PM nice and toasty warm.  Then I started handing her jars of finger paint.  I showed her how to use it (Is that an abomination?  That a toddler wouldn't know how to finger paint?  I felt abominable in that moment.  And not at all snowman-like.) and then just let her go wild.  She'd get tired of a color, and ask for more, and I'd throw another into the ring.  

Things started a little slow, but she quickly caught on, and I am proud to report that she now handles finger paints with at least moderate skill.  And by "moderate skill" I obviously mean she can slather with the best of them!

Lots of mess, oh yes.
But lots of mess IN ONE SPOT.
WHERE SHE CAN'T TOUCH OTHER THINGS.

Next time we do this, I'd change a few things:

1. Get better quality paints.  The Dollar Tree origins of the paints was not a big deal until bath time, when the blue was staining her skin, and I happened to remember that tomorrow is picture day.  We did eventually get the smurf-ness to fade, but it's still there somewhat.  I'd definitely go up in price some to avoid discolored children.
2. Speaking of bathtime, for the love, put the box in the bathroom!  The mess was wholey contained, right up until RG had to go the whole way through the house in order to get in a bath.  Luckily Handsome stepped in and provided a towel, with which I straight-jacketed my child and carried her through like she was foul garbage.  She thought it was a game.  We were both happy.  But keeping clean-up in mind when planning these things out is going to prevent a lot of headache in the future, I can tell.

Otherwise, we had a ton of fun, and I was happy that Riley got to be happy.  Plus, it gave me a few minutes (probably 20 or so!) of not hearing "uppy!?" or "block-shhh" or picking up legos or naming every. single. Sesame Street character 14 times in her book.  Yes, hearing "Elbo?" is cute once.  Even twice.  57 times in, it gets old.

What art have you been making lately?  Got any great ideas for projects that should take place in a box?  Please share, I've got plenty of boxes yet to go through!!

<3 M.

Its Not Monday

I never thought I'd say this, but I wish it were still Monday.  And its Wednesday.  And Lent is over tomorrow.  But I wish it were Monday.

Monday, my baby girl didn't cry when I had to buckle her into her carseat.  She laughed and "talked" at me and when she found both of her ears for the first time, she made me laugh.  And me laughing made her laugh.  When we got home, we walked around the driveway through some puddles, and it was fun and good.  When we came inside, I sat in front of the couch (because couches are for leaning against and nothing more, no?) and she would play and then she'd forcibly crawl into my lap.  She'd take my face with both of her chubby, chubby hands, or she'd lean her forehead against mine and give me her grumpy face.  Grumpy face doesn't end until Mama gives grumpy face right back, and then you both get to smile.  And then she climbed off and played some more, and we repeated.  Eventually, my little meatball got tired, I fed her, bathed her, still no tears, smooches goodnight, and bed.  At 5:20 PM.

Best. Day. Ever.

I loved Monday.

Today is Wednesday.  Today was tears at nearly everything.  Pushing her cart was fun, until it wasn't and then it was tear-inducing.  Eating was fun until crying.  Favorite toys eventually brought fussiness and books were no good and RG hung up on her grandMa twice.

Today was not Monday.  I had a hard time not wishing that today was still Monday.  Actually, I did wish today was still Monday.  And because I kept wishing it was something different, I think I made a difficult day seem even worse somehow.

Tomorrow.  Tomorrow is going to be Thursday.  I want to love Thursday for what it is, even if its a "everyone is going to live to see Friday but I promise nothing else" kind of Thursday.  Those can be okay, too.  Perhaps, without the weight of the expectation of living up to a fabulous Monday, perhaps Thursday will be good in its own right.  Every day will not be Monday, but every day ins't Wednesday, either.

<3 M.

Baby Toys :: 1 Year Old

I should preface this list with a few things.  First, an apology for the over-abundance of lists.  Lazy blogging, maybe.  Favorite form of blogging (for me)? Definitely.  I love lists.  Maybe you love them too.  In which case, I do not apologize.  In fact, I take that apology back altogether.  I am actually developing running list in my head called "Things for which I refuse to apologize", and my love for lists is now on it.  Right alongside the fact that I made my husband watch Frozen with me, despite him going "Really?  Reeeally?" every 15 minutes or so.  I just kept saying to him, what I say to you re: my lists and my love for email shorthand > I do not apologize.

However, since I'm not prefacing this post with any apologies, I am going to preface it by saying that I have a somewhat immobile 1yo.  She has a few push-behind toys that basically seem like preparation for grocery carts, and she L-is-for-the-way-you-look-at-me -OVES them.  But my list today is for the sitting-down, standing-at-a-coffee-table, chillin'-like-a-villian times.  

1. Stacking Dolls

I love these little dolls!  And the best part is, so does Riley!  I ordered the dolls plain off of ebay (I think I typed "blank Russian Nesting Dolls").  They come in sets of 3 & 5, mostly.  But then I did something clever. I had them mailed to my SIL so that she, the one with the painting skillz, could personalize them for me.  I told her to "go wild" and she took me seriously, painting these cute little wild animals!  My favorite thing is the  detail on each of these.  The fox?  There are little fish jumping in the background.  Riley has just gotten to where she can take them apart AND put them back together.  If you keep up on Instagram, you know that made me one proud mama :)

2. The classic Sorter.

We mostly roll the wooden toy train in this house (not a real train, she's too young for that), but a friend got RG this classic sorter box, and she loves it.  She's played with it for about 4 months now, but she's just getting good with putting the pieces in.  Maybe that's behind what other babies do, I have no idea and I'm not concerned.  I'm excited for her to be able to keep playing and growing with this toy for a while yet!

3.  Stacking Rings

There once was a set of stacking rings.  The rings, they lived like kings.  Kings of the workshop in California, where they were made and boxed and had no dings.  But the King of the rings, they went one day to the house of a little girl with one swing.  That girl, she loved the rings, although she did not know they were kings, and she gave them many bumps and dings, until 3 of the rings grew wings and got flinged and then there were three left.  The end.

4. The anti-toy

AKA - My wallet.  Riley loves my wallet.  She loves to pull out all of the cards, then hold the cards, and show them to people, and cause them to exclaim that "Isn't she starting early!" and "Thats what girls do, spend money" and a million and four other sexist comments to which her long-suffering mama smiles and nods and then leaves and thinks of a great comeback.  But really.  This one?  In the car?  Best. Toy. Eva.

So that's our list.  They're mostly non-interactive toys.  Because we're descended from communists, yes, but also because I heard/read/dreamt somewhere that the more interactive the toy, the more passive the child; the more passive the toy, the more interactive the child.  Which made sense to me.  And I detest passivity.  So we've gone mostly that route.  Plus, I hate noise. SO. DANG. MUCH.  So I tend to shy away from electronic noise machines.

(whoa!  sorry to get all negative there at the end.  who knew I had such strong feelings in me on a Wednesday!?)

What does/did you 1yo play with most?

<3 M.

Hey There Funny Face

My darling girl, 

You are a delight.  You make me laugh, and I return the favor.  We have SO. MUCH. FUN together.  Sweet baby, it is still hard to believe that you're mine, and that I get to keep you until I ship you off to college.  Or trade school.  Or the Olympics.  Or whatever.

I want to remember these days.  I want to celebrate these mornings, and these silly, sweet, play times.  Sometimes I forget that these moments are brief, fleeting.  Sometimes I forget that I'll miss these times and I get absorbed into my dishes and my phone and my laundry and and and...  

I've never been more grateful for my camera, more thankful for my the morning light that pours in our front window.  The pictures of you, there's never enough of them.  That *might* be the reason for the 81-page 12" photobook I just had printed.  Some call it excessive.  I call it a sampling.

You're fabulous, my child.  You're always hungry and you're always doing and going.  You're my princess, even if you eat like a grown man.  Thank you for working so hard to reach out to me, for helping me to grab these moments and claim them as my own.  To stop all of the other multi-tasking and just sit in the moment.  Grab a few shots, or a few hundred, and then spend out the rest of the moment, enjoy the laughter, and share in the zerberts.

Thank you, sweet pea.  I know I mess up every day, but you give me so much grace.  You love me so well. You love everyone so well, particularly strangers, who you love to wave at and shout at and smile real big to.  Your sweet smile is one of my favorite things about you.  "Is she always so happy?" strangers ask, and I have to tell them yes, yes you are.

Oh, and that weirdo lady in the pharmacy yesterday who wanted to take your picture but left her phone in her car?  Yeah, I wouldn't have let that happen.  But I can definitely understand the compulsion.

<3 M.

Goodbye Babyhood

I have a bhsthaldkjfaldkjfbalkshfuiewoeylkdklalalalala.

Ahem.  Let me try again.  

I really need to *say* this outloud.  It's part of the coping.

I have a ...toddler.

Bah!  It's not true.  It can't be true.  I really thought that my bambina was still a bitty baby, but she's not.  She went ahead and done did proved it by taking some halting steps on her first day as a 1-year-old.  Today (her 2nd day as a 1yo) she took 6 in a row.  Twice.  That, my friends, is what we call walking.

Except she's not very good at it, so as she attempts to walk she... *wait for it* ... toddles.  She is one who toddles.  She is a toddler.

I quit.

I mean...

I'd like the days to stop, please.  I'd like to capture this moment right here, and not change.  I want her to continue to see bedhead every. dang. time. she wakes up from her nap.  I want those other teeth to never grow in, and the ones she has to never straighten, because that gap-y smile is the most darling smile I know.  I want to be impressed at the way she inhales 5 meatballs and then snacks on fruit until her innie belly button pops out.  I want every 6 consecutive steps to end with her flinging herself into my arms, sure that I will catch her and kiss her and tell her she's fabulous for being so brave.

I want my baby for always.  

I'm not saying that I'd like to re-start Riley Girl, to have a 2-day old on my hands this very moment.  To be honest, those first three eight 14 weeks were rough for me.  Although she was pretty awesome, I'm not very good with sleep deprivation - it's a scientific fact.  But I feel the babyness slipping away and although it's futile and silly and would mean not-so-great things developmentally for Riley, I want to grasp it.  To grab a hold of right now and not watch it go.  I don't want this to change.

But it will.  It is.  It has.  Even today, my bitty baby of a toddler grabbed her book, scootched over to me, threw it down beside us and then backed into my lap to sit down.  She's never done that before.  And after I read the book, she said "Agah!"  So I read it again.  And she yelled "Agah!" again.  And we repeated, while I fought back tears because babies don't schootch into laps and ask for what they want with language - toddlers do that.  We turned on some music, and she started dancing.  And not just her patented shoulder roll/chin bob/belly bounce.  I mean there was some fan say footwork going on.  I've never seen that before, her picking her feet up and down like someone is shooting at them and telling her to dance.  

It's already gone, my first baby's babyhood.  She's a toddler, and that's the truth.  I know that the wise mama, the seasoned mama, the mama I want to be, would accept this truth with grace.  That she would acknowledge the loss of her baby's baby-ness and look forward with anticipation to what tomorrow will bring.  Handsome & I know that our main goal is to raise our daughter to not need us; to be independent.  Toddlerhood is a step in the right direction.  I know that.  And I choose to gracefully accept that.

It just makes me cry.

It doesn't help that (a) I ate Cadbury solid milk chocolate eggs for dinner, (b) RG decided that nursing is for chumps babies, and that yesterday morning would be her last time nursing ever, and so I have weird hormones to deal with right now on top of tons of feelings, and (c) my family has abandoned me, as is always the case when visits are done.  There's a lot, to say the least.  Overall, I am so glad for this year we've had.  I am blessed beyond belief by this baby girl who has my heart but not my nose!

Looking back over it, we really had such an easy time, with the sleeping and the nursing and the feeding and the growing and the moving and the learning.  All of it, she soared through without too many hiccups.  I am so, so grateful.  And also crying.  But that's mothering, right?

<3 M.   

#One

<3 M.

Things My Baby Doesn't Need :: Etsy Edition

I might have mentioned that my baby girl's birthday is coming up.  In 8 days.  I've got a puzzle stashed away for her big day, but that's it.  And I'm not worried.  Because she doesn't need anything.  She doesn't know to want anything.  AND, in true after-christmas-baby fashion, she's just not gonna get a whole lot.  When she's older, and her current toys aren't new to her every morning, and she can't be kept happy for hours with a mylar balloon, perhaps then we'll actually buy her presents.  But until then... 

We could be called counter-cultural, choosing not to buy and buy and lavish and lavish on our 52-week-old.   (don't mind me with the weeks, I'm having more trouble than I thought with the whole "letting her grow up" thing).  Handsome prefers the term "cheap".  Maybe its a combination (but its mostly cheap).  Whatever.  All I know is that we make the rules around here, and around here, 1-year-olds don't get a ton of toys.  They just don't.  

She will get a smash cake.  Oh yes, she will.  And she will get both grandmas here to visit and kiss and cuddle with.  And there will be some decorations, and friends over to play, and music and a party.  There will be a gift or two.  But unless someone ignores the "Please, come and celebrate, but don't bring a gift" line on the party invitation facebook event e-vite, that's it.

And I'm A-okay with it.  BUT.  But.  That doesn't stop me from dreaming.  I still want to nab all of these sweet toys for my girl, and I want her to love them and play with them and appreciate them and have memories of them.  So I'm storing them here, and perhaps throughout the year we'll get her one or two.  Unless you buy them up, in which case I will cut you be sad.

So here's the things I'd get for Riley Girl if I was a getting girl in a getting mood.  

Note: This is not a "please get Riley a present" list.  It's not.  We really do not need anything more in our house.  We've got toys spread out across 3 levels, just so she's not overwhelmed.  We have PLENTY.  I just like to window shop.  Just for the record.  Okay, resume the listing.

via
I think this fabric doll is sweet.
She'll have a doll eventually, when she's old enough.

via
I love hedgehogs!
RG has a "touch & feel" book where the hedgehog is made of velcro.
I'd put a string on this and when she decides to walk, she could pull it around!

via
Girlfriend loves phones.
She picks everything up, holds it to the side of her head, and say "Heeey!"
Except play that back in your head sounding less like a valley girl, and more like Don Corleone.

via
It's a pull-along, it's a wagon, it's a puzzle...
It's WONDER TOY!

via
I'm really kind of stuck on the dolls.
I wasn't a big "doll" girl, but I'm super excited to hook my girl up with some!
Richard, what's happening to me!?!

via
Now, this might not seem like a toy a parent would buy.
More like something an aunt or uncle buys, and gives, and then leaves for the quiet of their own home.
But baby girl loves her some percussion instruments.
And I don't mind 'em, as long as they don't have batteries.
Not a big battery-operated noise-maker fan.
Nope.

via
Although maybe I'll go with this version instead.
I could say its the colors, but I'd be lying if I said the "ships from Italy" wasn't a swaying point for me
#iloveitalians

So, that's the list.  Oh!  I just remembered, she does have another gift coming.  I ordered a set of blank nesting dolls, through this Russian connection, and my sister-in-law is hand painting them for Riley!  I believe she's doing woodland creatures, and I really hope there's a squirrel, or chipmunk in there.  Which is crazy, given  my irrational fear of those rodents.  Got any baby-gifting stories for me?  Anything you're loving lately from Etsy/Storenvy?  

<3 M.

Snow Day Rules

We had a snow day.

That's right.  Here, in South Carolina, in what is practically February.  

The best part?  There was actual snow, on the actual ground!

I KNOW!

I mean, none on the roads, but there was the threat of black ice, so, our local governments did what had to be done and declared January 29th a regional holiday.  I've always liked the day, myself, and so I'm glad to see it elevated to such noteworthy status.

Since snow days don't happen down here very often, some people are confused as to the rules of a snow day, so please, let me lay them out for you.

First, it is critical that you see the snow.  Touch it.  Leave your footprints.  

Once you've thoroughly experienced and enjoyed the snow, it's time to head inside.  Gather your snow-day friends - the ones who can walk to your house, the people who have four-wheel drive vehicles, and anyone who was raised in NY or north-er.  It's time to get your jam on in the in-doors.

Book reading is a highly recommended activity.  Position of the book is not important.  Chilling out is primary.

Sweet treats are also a fabulous way to pass the time.  Want to choose just one?  Why?  It's a snow day - you can eat all the sweet treats you want!  Pudding and cookies?  Sounds like a snow day plan to me.  Above all else, no matter where you go or what you do, do not, under any circumstances, change out of your pajamas.  Pajamas are the inherent right of a snow day.  Even if you (hypothetically) go to Applebee's to meet up with friends.  Hypothetically.

Bubble baths are the only exception to the pajama rule.

We have had a fabulous time on this snow day.  We have snuggled and laughed and eaten and visited and got our snow on and really just lived it up. And we didn't.  We kept quiet, we enjoyed and rested (or didn't rest, depending on if you embrace or fight naps *ahem*).  I hope you're staying warm and safe and getting your snow day on, whatever manner of snow day you prefer.  And if you're warm, well, I hope you can send some of that sunshine my way!

Also - thank you for humoring me using this blog as a diary of our days.  Sometimes, there's rockin' content, you learn things you didn't know, you see things you didn't know existed, you're inspired. Sometimes its written for you.  And sometimes, it's for me.  Today - it's all mine ;)

<3 M.

Birthday Crazy

Friday.  Yep.  That's my birthday.  2-8, I do believe.  I could do the math, but, well, no.

And then, infinitely more exciting to me, RG's birthday is in less than 4 weeks.

So I've got 2 kinds of birthday crazy.  The first, regarding my own birthday, is total anxiety and nervousness crazy.  Like, "I could never have a party because what if no one came.  Or worse, what if they did and then didn't have fun.  Oh my-lanta!"  However, I love to celebrate.  So this year, some friends and I are going out to dinner to celebrate Friday.  And I don't know what we're going to talk about and I don't know if anyone is going to have fun and I'd rather not think about it, or else I'll end up in my basement alone eating these and drinking wine.

Blah.  Issues.

But my girl Riley, her birthday gives me nothing but joy to think about.  The kind of joy that maaaaybe gets taken a little too far and ends up with a super "I'm smiling so big because I'm super stressed out but I want so badly to be happy about it" face.  You know, like this:

But I'm not scared.  I'm not going to be dissuaded.  I've got a plan.  And I've got pinterest.  And 2-day shipping.  I can make this house come alive with sprinkles, I just know it! (The first in a series of lies I've been telling myself as of late.  Let the listing begin.)

That's the theme.  Sprinkles, not lies.  Because, you know, every party needs a theme.  *FALSE*

Via (clockwise from left)
1, 2, 3, 4

And I'm sure I'll have enough time to do the prep for the Sprinkles Are The Best (p.s.- Riley's 1) party, in addition to cleaning *FALSE*.  And working on my dissertation.  And cooking. And cleaning some more.  And grading.  And sewing leather purses.  (C'mon, the leather isn't going to sew itself! - That one's true!)

I'm also positive that we can fit the 40 people we're inviting into our house for the Sprinkles Equal Love party. *FALSE*

What Riley real needs, instead of time to practice her almost-walking skills while holding my hands, is some hand-strung pom-pom garland.  And sprinkle-filled balloons   And cute little printables identifying all of the sprinkled foods.  *FALSER*

Unless this party is even more pin-worthy than the pins I've pinned for it, the Sprinkles Are A Girl's Best Friend party will be a total failure. *FALSEST*

Seriously, though.  While I'm excited for Riley's party, and I want to do a bazilligon things for it, I know that I need to limit my pinterest time when it comes to this.  Seriously, I'm going the way of Hill up there, and I haven't actually tried to do anything to get ready.  I just gathered a few ideas.  I don't even have any sprinkles in the house.  I'm scared to buy some, scared that I won't be able to stop.  I'm gonna sprinkle every ding dang thing.  But I'm also striving for moderation.  With sprinkles on top.

<3 M.

Her First Snow (a story in pictures)

Riley saw the snow.

She even touched the snow.
Willingly!

But she had never played in the snow.

So we bundled her up.
At first she wasn't too sure...

Until we reminded her that she could have a snack afterwards.

She went sled riding by herself...

She did a few tricks on her sled.

She went sled riding with mommy...

She went sled riding with Daddy.
It was all very fun.

And then she caught a bunch of the stuff to the face.
Fun. Over.

She recovered inside.
With carbohydrates.

The End.

<3 M.

Instalately :: Ridiculous Baby Cuteness

You guys.  

Now don't get too excited, but I took some pictures this last week, and I LOVE THEM.

Ahem. Sorry/notsorry for shouting.

You might not love them, but then again you might.  They're of mi princessa, the benevolent RileyGirl, and I'm definitely getting at least a few of them printed.  If you don't like cute pictures of babies, you should go now.  But really, reading the title of this post, you should have never clicked over.  But you did.  Which means you have some part of your heart that is in need of baby cuteness.  Don't stifle it.  Revel in it.

It should also be noted the magnitude of effort I put into instagramming these.  Because I have a not-so-awesome phone (working on my gratefulness...) I take pictures with my more-than-awesome camera, then upload them to dropbox, then edit them in picmonkey, then re-save them in dropbox, then instagram them from my phone. 

But y'all.  She's so cute.  Its totes worth it.

Riley has learned that her bathwater is potable.
In the loosest sense of the word, of course.
#doIhavetostillgiveherasippycupnow

This girl cracks me up, daily.
I don't know what she's doing here, but I know she was having fun!
#shemightbethrowinggangsymbols

We're a bit jealous of the time Daddy has had to spend on the ambulance lately...
#passiveagressivebaby

I couldn't resist
#youarewelcomeforthesongnowstuckinyourhead

I just... I can't.
I love her too much.
She has to stop growing up
#canIputherinthefreezerandpreservethis
#DoNOTputbabiesinthefreezer

Her back rolls.
Her smooches.
#theycompleteme

In truth, it has been a long couple of weeks, full of baby snot and viruses.  Compounded not in a small way by multi-day-stretches of single parenting, due to some unfortunate shift swaps.  But. You guys.  My handsome husband?  The one I love who melts my heart and makes me pancakes?  He's home tomorrow!  And Saturday (for some of it, anyhow).  AND most of Sunday's awake hours.  We've also got guests coming into town.  The best kind of guests, guests who really ought to just move in and never leave because you love them so much.  So although this has been a hard couple of weeks, we've got some cute pictures to show for it, and a big ole' rest in the future.  Now I've got to go clean the fan blades, so that nothing detracts from the leisure of this weekend, which in this hizzouse, is starting tomorrow.

Duces.

<3 M.