Before it got chilly, Scout and I played outside. Her favorite game is called Baby Tries to Eat the Grass While Mommy Yells, “Get It Outta Your Mouth.”
It’s fun. No, really.
Then we discovered the soccer ball.
My initial reaction was Scout’s baby gibberish loosely translated to “You may take our lives/soccer ball, but you can never take our freedom!”
But maybe that was too hasty. Maybe she was really saying…
- Are you blind, ref?!?! That ball was out!
- Put me in coach! I’m ready to play…today!
- What the heck, Mommy! I can’t fit this soccer ball in my mouth!
What do you think Scout is saying? Or what do you think Ozzy Pups is thinking?
Scout spends her days climbing over Ozzy Pups and crawl-chasing Esme Kitty. Because she loves animals so much, I took her twice (with different “boyfriends”—Kiefer loves it when I say that) to a petting farm.
She especially loved the piggies.
No, I mean she really loved them. And they loved her. Literally.
So was this a Mommy fail? On one hand, she was exposed to some dirt and germs to build up her immune system. On the other hand, ewwww! Germs!
Not to mention the future dating standards. What if Scout never meets someone who can kiss better than that pig? What if he set the bar too high?
About a month ago, Scout started rice cereal. The other day while I was mixing it up, someone stole my seat.
“Move your meat, lose your seat.”
I have no idea what they were talking about, but I’m pretty sure it can’t be good. Esme Kitty is…well…
evil a bad influence.
I hope Esme wasn’t trying to corrupt Scout’s innocent little mind.
What do you think Esme told Scout?
- A. Throw me all of your food, ok? Forget about the dog.
- B. If you promise not to grab my tail, I promise not to scratch you. Maybe.
- C. We’re the smallest people in this house, we have to stick together.
- D. It’s fun to trip Mommy. Don’t worry, she likes it. She also likes it when we attack her ankles.
- E. Other
Note: Starting Monday, thoughtsappear.com changes back to thoughtsappear.wordpress.com.
Ozzy Pups and Esme Kitty like to play hide and seek.
Only…they’re not very good at it.
Ozzy likes to look in all the logical places Esme might be: like her cat carrier.
Or maybe he’s trying to hide here. I’m not really clear who is hiding and who is seeking.
Esme, on the other hand, prefers to try to squeeze into places she can’t fit.
“If you had less clothes, I would totally fit in here.”
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Luckily our dog that chases things is terribly inept at it and wouldn’t know what to do if he caught anything. The other likes to only eat already dead things. We’re so lucky and blessed!”—The Cannibalistic Nerd
During our last specialist appointments, we found out our 5 pound and 6 ounce baby grew to 6 pounds and 10 ounces in about 3 weeks. At the last visit, she last measured 7 pounds and 13 ounces.
Technician and Doctor: Wow, that’s a big baby!
Me: That’s what everyone says. Soooo…when do we start considering a C-section as the only option? How big is she going to get? 10 pounds? 15?
Doctor: I think you’re looking at an 8- or 8.5-pound baby.
Sooooo…basically…since most babies are 7.5-8.5 pounds, I panicked for nothing.* Thanks. Thanks a lot.
*Except for her massive head. The 93rd percentile, people.
Baby Scout made her debut at 8 pounds 6 ounces and 21 inches long. Imagine if she had showed up on her due date.
Imagine if she’d been late. :: shudder::
The other comment we constantly heard was “Look at those cheeks!”
I do love her cheeks.
Don’t you love how her little elbow chub looks like a butt in this picture? Or is that something only a mother could love?
“I have two butts.”
Scout’s cheeks were chipmunk-esque in utero. Obviously, she was practicing trying to take in as much Pop-Tarty goodness as possible.
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I had no idea Ozzy was a boxer.”—BluzDude