Last week sometime I positively devoured a book by her called “Bird By Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life.” It had the peculiar effect of making me want to write. But not in an old-school, “I will be a Fameux Wri-Tor” sort of way. In a “Yep, this is a thing I will do” way. I have reasonable expectations of my ability to do any BIG WRITING in the next X years but I am newly inspired to write down little things (or, “little, tiny things” as Trombone would say) and file them away for later. She references a number of books she wrote and now I want them all. I actually want her to live in my house and pet my head except there isn’t really room. In the house, I mean.
Bravado Bras and Breakout Bras
I had three awesome nursing bras from these people and I wore them throughout Trombone’s year of boob. Then I started wearing them at the end of my pregnancy with Fresco. Now they are tired and grubby so I bought a new one and a nursing tank from my best online buddy, Breakout Bras. The nursing tank I wanted was a full $15 – 20 less than anywhere in the Vancouver area, plus they offer free shipping, plus a 10% discount for being a repeat customer, which brings it down to a not unholy price point though $40 is still pretty steep for a tank but it’s got a bra built right in and it’s actually long enough in the torso to reach my hips and I have a long torso, y’all.
Breakout Bras is kind enough to have a bra size calculator on their website and I have no idea if it’s universal or not but I measured myself according to their bra calculator and I ordered the size it said I was and presto they fit. I really am a 36D. Wow.
Vibrating infant seat
Fresco is a bouncer, not a swinger. Our yoga ball is getting quite a workout (along with thighs, lower back, etc) and 10 solid minutes of bounce puts him right to sleep. Thus, the Baby Swing of Magical Powers doesn’t do much for him. However, the infant seat, with its battery in, vibrates just enough to distract him and keep him still and looking around quietly while I wipe Trombone’s butt or whatever. (This morning I said Good morning Trombone! and he replied, Mommy, smell my butt! I said, Why? He said, Because it’s stinky! Do I need to tell you he was right? No I do not.)
This lip gloss I bought at Superstore. It smells like raspberry but not in a bad way
Allows me a moment of delusion where I don’t see the dark circles under my eyes and my unbrushed teeth but instead just my SHINY PINK FRUIT LIPS.
Back in January when we went to Tofino we got a rock chip in our windshield. Then it became a long, hazardous crack. Then we got busy doing other things. This week I took the car to Crystal Glass on 6th Street and had the pleasure of dealing with manager Randy White. I do not know if he has a staff or not. He is on the flyer, as in, “come meet our store manager Randy White!” and I can see why. He is one nice man. Professional. Friendly.
When I picked up the car later the same day, we made small talk and he said something about how it had been a long winter. I said, I thought it was just me because I was so tired and whiny and pregnant. He said, hmm and how’s your baby. I said, he’s great. He said, he’s messy; it took me forever to vacuum your car. I said YOU VACUUMED MY CAR? And then we ran away together, me and Randy. I am typing this from Cancun. Randy is taking margarita-mixing lessons down at the wet bar.
Trombone loves music. He loves to sing. He knows all the words to Winnie the Pooh. He sings them over and over and over and over and makes me sing the Heffalumps and Woozles song over and over and over and
So yesterday at breakfast I interrupted the Chubby Little Cubby all Stuffed with Fluff broadcast and said,
and he looked at me a minute and said,
and I said
doot doo doo doo doo
and I pointed at him
and he laughed and said
and then I found it on Youtube
and now I am Teh Greatest.