Pretty Baby

Mason's constantly being called a girl. He can be decked out in blue and carrying a Tonka truck while eating bugs in the driveway and someone will still walk up to us and say "ohmygosh, she's so adorable, what's her name?" Last week, at the Waffle Shop, when I told the woman in the booth next to us that "she" was a boy she said, "Really?! He's way too pretty to be a boy". And it's true. Mase is pretty.

Pretty manly.

Yesterday Aimee and I took the babies to Kid to Kid - an awesome store that sells second-hand baby clothes and toys. I take my purchases to the register - five pairs of sweatpants and one pair of jeans, all Baby Gap and Old Navy - $22.50. Amazing. When the woman gets to the last pair of sweatpants she says, "you know these are girl's, don't you?" First of all, they were blue. Light blue. Second, I lied, she didn't say that. She SCREAMED it loudly enough for every other bargain shopper in the world to hear. Unwilling to let myself be humiliated by the checkout woman, I mumbled "Uh, yeah, I know that", and let her charge me $4.50 for a pair of girl's Baby Gap sweatpants while she kept rambling about how she noticed I'd bought a lot of boy's stuff and that was why she just wanted to make sure I knew that THOSE ARE GIRL'S SWEATPANTS. I would have paid her double if she would have shut up for thirty seconds.

So I put them on Mase today, for no other reason than to prove that checkout lady wrong. I mean, really, what's the difference between baby boy's sweatpants and baby girl's sweatpants. Nothing, right?


Doesn't matter. He's still pretty.

Pretty adorable.

Testing

I found a great deal on a new lens on craigslist and bought it yesterday afternoon. It's supposed to be better with indoor lighting than my old one... and the best part? I don't have to hold it on!

Speaking of Breakfast..

One word - why?

I guess there's nothing quite like a yogurt bath first thing in the morning.

Bagel Snatcher

I was making Mason's breakfast the other morning - scrambled eggs and sausage, one of his favorites. I had a bagel sitting on the counter for myself.

I was just getting ready to take the eggs out of the pan when I realized I hadn't heard anything from Mase for awhile. Nine times out of ten, silence means trouble, so I spun around expecting the worst.

Guess Mase was just a little too famished to wait for me to finish cooking.

Sweater Season

Yesterday was the first day of fall, and the temperature is starting to cool down now. I'm sad to see summer go, but at least Mason looks darn cute in a sweater.

Madelynn the Sippy Stealer

Mads came over the other morning. While Aimee slept on the couch, I took these pictures of her and Mase.

First, Mads pretends to be nice:
"Here ya go, Mason my friend, you're lookin' a little thirsty. Let me help ya out with that water of yours!"

It doesn't take long though, before she shows her true, sippy-stealing colors:
"Peace out, baby, try not to dehydrate!"

Paint Me Perfect

Naked bathtub finger painting. Genius. I used to LOVE doing artsy stuff as a kid, so I was thrilled that Mason had a blast with his finger paints.

The finished products are beautiful. Plus, it's only been a week and I've almost gotten all the green paint out of the tub. We'll definitely be painting again soon.

“I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

-Vincent van Gogh

Park Trip #467

Oh, park season. How sad am I that you're almost over?

He Gets Cuter Every Day

Crazy Quackers

Mason loves the duck park. Okay, I love the duck park. But he does, too. And now that he really gets it - feeding the ducks instead of eating stale bread - it's that much more fun for him.

We had one near finger-biting incident (caught on camera, luckily).


Have you ever gotten down at duck level?


Those things are scary when you're eye to eye with them. Little bread-eating monsters with beaks and teeth whose best defense is caking soft-soled baby shoes in bright green duck poop. Horrifying.


Good thing Mase is so brave.

True Mom Confession Part Four

I've been letting Mase carry around a bottle of Windex.

I know it's bad. But I make sure it's turned to 'off'. And how could I take it away when it makes him so happy.

Ugh.. off to sticky note the number to Poison Control to the fridge.

I Can Barely Keep Up

A walk around the block with Mase is never dull. We pick flowers, eat acorns, poke at ants, pet dogs, climb hills, make sure our belly buttons are still where they're supposed to be, and watch for airplanes.

I don't think I'll ever be able to say I'm bored again.