• Bad Mom,  Bug,  domesticity,  Slow News Day

    the forbidden basket

    The forbidden basket is just a little basket sitting on a tv tray beside my “nursing chair”. By looking at it, you’d never know it held so much importance and mystery in the baby’s room. It started out as just a place to stash the large collection of pacifiers, cloth diapers (for wiping clogged tear duct eye goop), baby fingernail clippers and what-not… but it has turned into soooo much more.

    Why? Because it’s the basket that the baby is not allowed to touch. Except for important times, like when I need to make a phone call or finish up a blog post or speed read through 27 babysitter applicant emails. Then the forbidden basket becomes prime time optimum baby entertainment. She loves the forbidden basket. She could sort through the fifty-some pacifiers, testing each one out over and over, for hours! And then there’s mommy’s lotion (with the cap screwed on securely of course) and combs and baby brushes…all kinds of great things to put in your mouth–so much fun!

    This basket saves me. Every once in a while I have to throw in a new forbidden object (like a mini stapler {the horror!!!} or a roll of scotch tape or a dead remote…) just to keep it interesting. I always keep one eyeball glued on her though because the beauty of the forbidden objects is that they are forbidden and slightly dangerous. Who wants to play with toys that are soft and boring when you can play with sharp things!

    So, yes, this is a post about a basket of junk. What can I say? It holds that much importance in our daily lives.

    Everybody should have one.

  • illos,  Slow News Day,  the great illness of 06

    skinny jeans

    Today is a good day. The baby is asleep, I’m sipping freshly brewed coffee AND I’m wearing my old skinny jeans. The really old ones. Like almost before I started wearing low rise jeans. Well not that old. I’ll never go back to waisted tapered leg jeans again.

    With my body type it’s best if I stick to low rise flare leg style forever. I don’t even care if my daughter is embarrassed of me when she gets old enough to know better. I’m sorry, but I look terrible in tapered legged jeans. They are so unflattering to my ample sized butt and speed skater thighs. I’ll go right along with every other 80’s revival trend but peg leg jeans will never touch my womanly shape again. Not unless I grow another gallbladder.

    We’ll see how long this skinny jean wearing lasts. Hopefully longer than Baby Bug’s nap. Gotta run, I hear somebody waking up!