Up until then she mostly was like something we were playing house with. Maybe even one of those robot babies that cry when you’re not attending to their needs appropriately.
(she cried a lot.)
Moze reached for, grabbed and held on to his toy today.
Moze talks a lot to us. We talk back. We have whole conversations of oohing and ahing. He’s good at communicating and we understand each other most of the time.
But I still thought it was pretty special.
You know, the kind that eat the food that their toddler has previously drooled.
I am becoming the kind of mom that thinks cold spittle covered food is acceptable eats.
I’m not there just yet, but already I’ve seen the signs.
I consider yellow slimy baby poop the “good kind of poop”. The idea that there is a good kind of poop is strictly a parent thought. I don’t even feel the extreme rushing need to wash my hands following a diaper change. Maybe, theoretically, I don’t even wash my hands. Theoretically. Because it was the good kind of poop.
While wearing my nice clothes I get barfed on. Chunky milk barf. Do I change? No. I just rub it in so you can’t see the chunks.
In basketball shorts all day? Good enough.
Let the girl backwash in my water? No problem.
Put my hair in a bun instead of brushing it? Always.
Dropped the pacifier on the public bathroom floor? Yes.
I’m turning into the snot-covered, drag-all-my-kids-to-the-grocery-store, didn’t-even-notice-he-was-poopy kind of mom.
You may want to buy yourself a bottle of hand sanitizer before I have #3.
When I came back the kids barely noticed. Maybe they acted even worse. Jake kept saying, “Are you acting like this because Mom’s back?”
I think Jake makes a better mom than me.
(He even makes better Halloween costumes.)
There’s been a bit of controversy with everyone over the whole Project Food Blog thing, but I don’t really want to post about it on my food blog, because that’s where I try to stay positive.
And here’s where I stay negative.
HA! I meant, “real.”
I’m real on my food blog too, but I’d like to leave my food untainted by bitter. Sometimes I’m ok with a bit of an umami taste, though. In this case I feel like there’s bitter from some of the food community, which makes me feel guilty. And that isn’t totally fair.
I like project food blog. I’m having fun. I think it’s made me a better food blogger. I’ve gotten some inspiration and I’ve figured out a little better where I’d like to be heading as a writer. And I’ll still like it even when I lose. It has been a faith building experience for me, actually, because I feel way more energized by writing and cooking and parenting and thinking about all that than teaching (I love the students, promise!) and I hope I’ll be able to balance this with my slightly soul sucking job when I go back in January. I think the inspiration I’ve felt has not been coincidence.
Today I put up a video on the Lactaid video contest, and I’m mortified but trying not to be. I am not a video personality. Therefore, all my hopes and dreams of becoming the next Masterchef are down the tubes.
(that’s ok. I don’t even want to be the next Masterchef. It’s a total sell-out.)
Anywho, I am glad I got to practice my acting skillz on the Lactaid video. I figured out that
A) I am the worst actor.
B) does my voice actually SOUND like that?
C) I’m getting used to watching myself on camera. I only watched the video about 10K times. It’s a little less painful every time.
Jake and I laughed and we totally ignored the kids for a couple of hours. Jake has been my #1 supporter with all these contest things lately. He has lots of good ideas and has given me pointers, and I forgive him for not wanting to be in the video that I have to make for Project Food Blog.
Mostly.
