Wordless Wednesday - Cousins.

I'm not supposed to talk today, but remind me to tell you a funny story about these two.

Just eat it!

Today for breakfast I had a donut. Today for lunch I had pizza. Today for dinner I had pizza.

Anyone looking for scientific evidence that you lose weight when you breastfeed, look no further. I'm your lab rat.

What a beautiful gift nature has given us. In so many, many ways.

Sometimes myself annoys myself.

My cousin moved to India today. She quit her awesome job with a major company in Chicago to teach art at an all boys elementary school.

India.

While it's not a move that I would ever make, I'm jealous of her courage. If I have one regret in life it's that I've never moved out of this area. Lest you think I'm not grateful for what I have, don't get it twisted, I have a great life here. I know this. And I'm thankful for it everyday. I just wish that my 23-year-old self had packed it up and taken this show on the road when it had the chance.

Sometimes I let myself think about this too much. And Facebook doesn't help. I see all of these people from high school living all across the country and I wonder why I'm not one of them. I don't hate Northwest Ohio, I hate that I don't know anything else.

Woe is me, right? Someone slap me.

Haircuttery.

How much is too much to pay for a haircut? My gal is rather pricey. I think she just became co-owner of the salon, which means I pay... too much.

I only get 4 haircuts a year, I wait 3-4 months in between because I refuse to pay $60 for a trim. A trim. Who's dropping dimes on trims? We ain't the Rockefellers. If I'm paying $60 for a haircut, then I'm getting my gosh-darn hairs cut. I can't stand paying that much and have people not be able to tell. Seems like such a waste. I'm paying $60 bucks for attention! No one wastes time on complimenting a trim.

Now granted, she does a decent job. And I'm pretty sure I would pay the $60 just to have my hair washed. They do a little head massage while they wash - it's yummy.

So tell me, am I being taken? Is it time to find a new person? Ugh, I'm so bad at breaking up with people.

Wie Gehts!

We're back from our min-vacation to Little Bavaria. What a charming place! I was there once about 20 years ago but remembered very little. If you don't like cheese, salty meats, bakeries, fudge, pretzels, lederhosen, or Christmas, then this place isn't for you.

This trip made me realize that I don't take nearly enough photos. It's hard. I want to enjoy the moment so I take any pics, but then I get home and wish that I had taken more. I need to get famous so the paparazzi start following me capturing life's moments for me.

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At the Frankenmuth Brewing Company. Did I mention this town also has lots of beer? You gotta love that about zee Germans.

Stella checking out the menu. While stuffing her face full of edamame.

Posing with a Bavarian pretzel. So delicious! And the mustard dip they serve with it? To die for.

You can't put anything in front of this kid without it going in her mouth. It's like she's taunting us in this pic. "What, I'm not supposed to drink this? I'm not drinking it, Mom, relax. I'm just putting my mouth on it. Look, I'm not even using my hands!"

"Now I'm using my hands."

Ok, this place was like the mother ship calling me home. A whole house full of cheese! Everywhere cheese! I think we got about 7 different kinds - salami and cheese cheese, maple syrup cheese, 12-year aged cheddar, just to name a few. They even have chocolate cheese. They really need to look into making this a chain.

Stella and the big guy at Bronner's, the world's largest Christmas store this side of the North Pole. It was just us and 25,000 of our closest friends.

"Hey Santa, wanna see my cups?"

We don't go anywhere without these measuring cups/spoons. Is it weird that her security blanket is plastic measuring cups? Hey whatever, dude.

Me and Stella in a rare photo together.

What a perfect little getaway weekend. Think we're gonna make this an annual family tradition.

Willkommen!

On a family trip to Frankenmuth. Pics of cheese, babies and bier to come.

Prost!

I breastfeed therefore I am.

When I got pregnant I knew that I wanted to breastfeed. The benefits were tremendous, the time together precious and the cost unbeatable. I read the books and went to the classes, I had a vague idea of what was supposed to go down. It seemed simple enough - I have boobs (arguably), the ultrasounds show that Stella has a mouth... boob, mouth... got it.

Cut to December 22, 11:05 p.m.: tears, happiness, smiles and complete awe were everywhere. From reading the books and talking with my doctor I knew that it's best to nurse the baby within the first hour after birth. They would be hungry and you can begin to establish your milk supply right away. So that's what we did. We got into position. I thought I was doing it right, but it obviously was something I had never done. It took, I don't know, a thousand years. That's a generous estimate.

A normal feeding for us used to take an hour plus. Luckily Stella ate every three hours. I didn't understand how some babies would eat every two hours. That would mean I would have about a half an hour in between feedings. I couldn't wrap my head around that math.

I was bewildered. I was sore. You know how marathon runners get bloody nipples from their shirt rubbing on them when they run for 24 hours or however long it takes to run a marathon? It's like that. My nipples weren't used to that much attention. I advised Turtle Parade that the best way to prepare herself for breastfeeding was to flick them all day. It's one thing the books didn't really mention. You can prepare your mind but you can't really prepare your nipples. And THANKFULLY I had it a heck of a lot better than some others that I know. Its definitely mind over matter in the beginning. And anyone who attempts it is my hero.

Our pediatrician told me that once we got the hang of it feedings would only take 10 minutes. I laughed in her face. "Quit yankin' my chain, Lady. Ten minutes? I call BS. Maybe for other kids, but my kid apparently enjoys hanging out watching an hour of The Cosby Show at 4 a.m., I doubt she's gonna give that up."

But danggoneit, she was right! Somewhere around the 4-5 month mark I started noticing that feedings were getting shorter and shorter. Now, at 10.5 months, we're in and out. I wake her up at 7:30, feed her, Mike changes her diaper and clothes and we're out the door by 7:45. We've got it down to a well-oiled, efficient, calculated science. It's a phenomenal thing. It's hard to believe that it ever took as long as it did.

Breastfeeding my Stella for the last 10.5 months (and still going!) is probably the thing I'm most proud of in my life. But I can definitely understand why people quit. There are plenty of outs, countless inconveniences and worries and fears. I'm thankful that we've been able to maintain this relationship for this long. These boobs are helping keep my baby alive. If there's something cooler than that in this world, I don't know what it is.

And I gotta give a major fistbump to my pumping homies. Pumping is a whole nother animal, and post. And to those who pump exclusively for any period of time: I bow to you. I couldn't do it.

Viva la boobs!

Wordless Wednesday. Have I mentioned that I don't like Wednesdays? Here's how I feel about them, as portrayed by Stella.

Gillette model.

Someone had some fun playing with shaving cream at school yesterday! The amount of hilarity in these photos is TOO DARN MUCH!

I love it that her school sends me photos on a weekly basis. It's so great to see what she's up to when I'm not around.

Coco nuts.

I feel that late night television is one of the few funny things on tv today*. (Modern Family and How I Met Your Mom aside.) I appreciate good comedic timing and the art of telling jokes. I like things funny.

Over the summer there was quite the debacle between Conan O'Brien, NBC and that other guy. Conan was pushed out. He was royally effed over and someone probably punched his dog too. I don't care what Leno would have you believe, he worked a deal to get the Tonight Show back. It may not have happened the way he thought it would, but he reneged on his retirement and kicked Conan right between the legs. If I didn't already dislike Leno, this would have done it.

But tonight Conan returns. You gonna watch? I'm with Coco. For tonight anyway. I'm still all Dave, all the way.

*This obviously does not include Jay Leno. I said funny.

Too busy for a subject.

Sunday nights are always stupidly busy. I can complete 81 tasks throughout the day but it never fails that 23 more things have to be done before I can relax. Surely reorganizing the sock drawer could have waited, but in my mind it had to be done NOW. Remember when Sundays were the day to relax and do nothing? Biblical times must have been nice.

Clockwatching.

Remember: the clocks go back an hour tonight. You don't want to be that person who shows up early - or is late? - to your Sunday brunch.

I can't remember, is this when the college students riot or is it when we spring forward? Did your college ever riot over clocks? Mine did.

I'm curious to see if the horror stories are true about babies and daylight saving time. I guess the happiest babies (and parents) live in the parts of Indiana and Arizona, where daylight savings doesn't exist.

I heard that if you have an iPhone you'll have to manually change the time on it... I beg your pardon?.... you can turn off my oven and knit me a damn sweater but you can't automatically adjust to the time change? Shew.

Happy extra hour, (although is it really an extra hour if we've already lost an hour this year? I think we're just evening out) y'all!

Phoning it in.

I called on NaBloPoMo for inspiration today. I like this question, it's not one that people usually ask.

If your house was on fire, what five things would you be glad to see go up in flames?

5. Mike's brown shoes. All I can is, sigh.

4. Our bedroom curtains. They're forest green and nothing else in the room is. Plus there's this odd rosette thing covering up a half moon shaped window. They haven't made anything like it since 1997. But taking it down would mean letting light into the room. I'm like that Edward Cullen dude when it comes to light in the bedroom. Can't have it. Not even a tiny sliver. So I suffer in silence.

3. The clothes in my closet. Save for my jeans and shoes. If my clothes burned I'd take the insurance money and go on a major spree. Some things in there are due for an update. Like the work pants I've had for 10 years. I'm actually considered wearing my maternity pants in their place. They were a lot more modern looking.

2. Our kitchen counters. They are cheap black laminate or painted black cardboard, I'm not sure. They show every single crumb and piece of dust. But on the plus side it's easy to see where I've spilled chicken juice, so it's got that going for it.

And now for the #1 thing that can BURN...

1. Our kitchen floor. I HATE THIS FLOOR. Hate it dead. It's pure white and shows dirt like a mofo. It's impossible to keep clean. And I hate cleaning it because my efforts are usually wasted 45 seconds later when someone accidentally breathes on it. I've implemented a no shoe policy because of this floor, otherwise it would have to be mopped twice a day. I tell people they have a choice: they can either take their shoes off or they can mop my floor. Most people abide by the rules but there are a few violaters that I've had to prosecute. I've considered asking our family members for their shoe size so I can get them their own slippers to wear when they come over. I'm a thoughtful kind of crazy.

(I kinda feel like this post made me sound like a loon. I guess I'm letting my freak flag fly this month.)

Anything in your house that you'd be happy to roast marshmallows to?

I didn't totally hate it this year.

Now that Stella stands and grabs things and eats them we've had to make sure things are safely out of her reach. In doing that, I've been misplacing a lot of things.

I'll just put my keys in the corner of the guest room closet behind that suitcase, on top of Nora's cage and next to the red pair of shoes. She'll never be able to find them there.

Without fail, the following conversation will occur 30 minutes later: "Miiike, have you seen my keys? I just saw them! Where the hell could they have gone? I JUST FREAKING HAD THEM!"

Nothing sends me into more of a frenzy than losing something. I get mean and sweaty and shouty. It's really quite unpleasant.

Basically this is why I haven't posted any Halloween photos yet. The camera/computer cord has gone missing. I know I just saw it. Thankfully Mike knows my habits and brought me this other photo thingy and now I'm able to share them with you.

So enough talky talky, here are photos from Stella's first Halloween.

This isn't Stella. It's Robert Downey Jr. Oh, no, wait... it's her Dad.

Stella in costume #1. Ridiculously cute she was.

Mucho excited about being Yoda! Please note the light saber on the right.

I like this one because it's a good shot of the ears. Hee hee!

Costume #2 - a hot dog! I love hot dogs more than life. So when I saw this gem of a costume for $5 I had to have it. She liked it more than it appears, she had just woken up. With our cowboy friend.

To go along with my little hot dog, I dressed up as a slutty mustard bottle, but I must have missplaced those photos. Darn.

I found that I was a little more into Halloween this year than I ever have been. It was a really fun day hanging out with family and having a little Fall Fest party and then later hanging out with friends laughing and eating pizza. I still am very leary about passing out candy to kids wearing masks or dressed as clowns. But I enjoyed decorating the house and thinking of costumes and starting new traditions with Stella. I'm softening.

Kind of a big deal.

My husband had a great day yesterday. He earned a big promotion at work. BIG. All of those long nights, weekends, early morning meetings, last-minute European trips, headaches, extracurricular work activities, dinners that we ate together as a family in his office and years of schooling and test taking finally paid off for him.

He came home last night with a smile on his face so big that it brought tears to my eyes. He looked truly happy. It was amazing.

So I just wanted to take this opportunity to say that I'm incredibly proud of him. And I appreciate all he has done to provide a nice life for our family. And that I wish he could find better places to celebrate than Red Lobster.

Day 2.

Wow. This isn't easy. I thought it would be, but I'm completely drawing blanks. I'm pretty sure I've psyched myself out already. I say, "Ok, Self, write something witty and worth reading..." and then my mind freezes as if I've eaten ice cream too fast. Gah!

If I still wrote for my college newspaper, this would be the point where I would grab a wine cooler to get myself loose and my thoughts flowing freely. But I'm passed that point in life. Plus, wine coolers are laughable forms of alcohol.

So today's post will be a collection of thoughts that pop into my head. There will be no rhyme or reason to them. Pure stream of consciousness. You ready?

"I thought Stella was getting teeth. I thought I saw the top of tooth, but perhaps it was food? Nothing has popped through yet. I wonder why?"

"My "friends" on Facebook really need to stop telling everyone to vote. Really person-I-went-to-junior-high-with, I should vote? Gee, thanks for the heads up. I only listen to P Diddy when it comes to voting."

"I have to use the restroom. Must mean it's close to quitting time."

"I really hate the restrooms here at work. I'll wait until I get home."

"Did I use correct punctuation so far in this post? Probably not."

"I have weird fingers. I don't like my hands, they're not very feminine. And they're dry and cracking and they hurt. Sorry, digits, it's gonna be a long winter."

"Where should we have dinner tonight? It was kind of a big day in the D house. Hopefully not Red Lobster."

"Who is to blame for the giant container of leftover Halloween candy sitting on our work cabinet? Imma kick them in the shins. Do they know how many Kit-Kats they've forced me to eat today?"

"My head itches."

"Co-worker just said that I'm known for one-liners and that I'm funny. That made my day. "

"It's time to go. Here I come Stella!"

I signed up.

Do as the "T" says. I am.

I love that this NaBloPoMo month exists. I need motivation for things like this. It's like exercising. If left to my own devices, I'll never do it. But if I sign up for a class, I'm all in. And I usually sign up for a class once a year. Seeing as how there's only one or two months left in this year and I haven't taken any exercise classes yet (damn kid!), this will have to suffice. We'll call it my writing exercise.

And today it commences.

Look out, suckas! I hear there's free stuff on the line if I complete this. Ain't nobody or no thing gettin' in the way of me and free stuff.

(Look at that! I've already completed my task for the day. This is easy! Pimpin' ain't. But this is. And I may even have another up my sleeve.)

Stella: months 8 - 9.

Who? Us?

This banana didn't stand a chance. It's possible some of it went in her mouth.

Would you look at those sweet hands. Edible.

This is photography GOLD. This is the kind of shot Olan Mills can't provide.

Trying to get her dressed is like wrasslin' alligators. We've had to consult the WWE. Here she saw her pajamas and was making a break for it.

Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Willis?

Quintessential Stella. THIS is my baby. This photo describes her better than any words ever could. (9-months)

We have entire discussions via back-and-forth raspberry blowin'. We've solved many of the world's problems this way. You don't even know.

I've been looking forward to taking a photo like this since the day I found out I was pregnant. My favorite time of year + my favorite baby = pure happiness.

Anyone want to save a dying blog?

I've emailed Sally Struthers to get some advice on how to save dying things. I'll bet she could tell me how to go about getting people to send me money so that I can continue the life of this blog. For just $5 a day you can help make a difference. I will send you monthly photos of me sitting at my computer blogging away. Personal checks will be accepted.

Gah. I just need a swift kick to the pants to jumpstart my motivation. I wish I could tell you all just how much I want to blog. I'm stuck. I'm stifled. I'm scared. Hold me.

Won't you help?

Wanna see some cute pictures of my kid?

Watching the World Cup with Dad. She's a patriotic gal.

Getting ready to eat food for the first time. Avocado was on the menu that day. Look how excited she is to get it in her belly! I had to put it out of her reach so I could take the photo.

The best meals are the ones that end up all over your face. Avocado FTW! She told me it was the best thing since sliced bread. Which is weird because we haven't gotten to bread yet.

Rolled herself into a burrito. Before I could help her out I had to take some photos, like any good parent would do.

Seven months old today! This means she is now officially closer to 1 than 0. Whoa. Slow down, kid!

Loving life as a seven month old!