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Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Live, Laugh, and Pout

I spent a lot of my pregnancy imagining just what it was that my child did inside. That's like being trapped underwater in a hot tub for nine months. Perhaps, they skip rope with the umbilical cord? Perfect tumbling skills? Aerobics, maybe? Now, I'm beginning to wonder if there is an actual mirror in there where they have nine months to perfect specific facial expressions. Especially the pouty bottom lip. My gosh, Ruby has that down so well and sticks it out so far, I'm afraid she may just trip on it one of these days. It's the most pitiful look, and it gets me every time. I usually dance around and make that annoying baby voice that seems to wash over people unexpectedly when in the presence of the baby. All to avoid this, the aftermath of the lip:



Want to know something disgusting?


Good, I knew you did. Proceed with caution.


Last week, Jimmy had Ruby laying on his chest-picture perfect moment. What else would I have done but grab my camera? I did just that and as I went to take the picture-Ruby spit up all down her daddy's chin. Gross, right? It happened again. And again. Yes, she spit up three times, once making it right into his mouth. Coming from the child who has spit up about five times in her entire three months of living. See?




Certainly one could argue the intelligence of her dad, given that he let this happen that many times-but really, what are the odds?

So if you were ever curious what regurgitated milk tastes like, you can ask Jimmy. And while you're at it, ask him if closing your eyes as you get your dose of this helps it go down better.

And while we're questioning the intelligence of certain individuals, I'd love to know just how many people out there enjoy receiving countless phonecalls from one party and not a single message to show for the ringing that never ceases. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?


Ahem.


Seriously, when we don't answer the phone the first, second third, and fifty-first time, get the hint. This has got to be one of my biggest pet peeves-what is so hard about leaving a message and allowing the missing party to get back to you at their convenience? Sheesh, I just don't get it. I promise I did not break my cordless phone last night, but it took some serious willpower not to throw that thing into the snow.


Did I mention it was four degrees last night and snowing? Where are you, summer?

2 comments:

Cathy said...

Ahhh, the joys of parenthood!

Auntie Sari said...

omg you crack me up!!!haha...remember this..."Whinnie the Pooh...Whinnie the Pooh..Barnes family isn't home right now doo doo dooo...leave ur name and number and will get back to you ...whooohooohooohooo!!haha"

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