Tagalong

I'm no exception to the joke about stir-crazy stay-at-home mothers, and how we jump at every freebie, civic event, or stroller derby, for fear that the walls of our homes might go all Charlotte Perkins Gilman on us and render us permanent loons. I love my new life as a mother for so many reasons, but sometimes the wide open matrix of my week with each box filled with APPOINTMENT WITH BABY GIRL can be a little intimidating. So I try to change up the venue as much as possible. Getting out of the house can take some premeditation when you're limited in cash moneys and toting the suck monkey herself, but I am starting to not be a pathetic milk-stained mess about it get better at it. Recently, we were invited to do some Yelpin' at a hat boutique. It was a true bou-treat with my little cupcake:

"My mom flashes her badge all We're not worthy...she was so dating herself...."

"It said BYOB.  I thought that meant Bring Your Own Baby."

"Blah Blah Blah, Mom loves to tell the birth story over and over again blippity blah blippity blah...."

All photos courtesy of Boston Yelp.

Not Theolonius

I've been having a splendid week so far, and I mean that sincerely. People constantly ask me how I occupy my time at home with Little Miss Muffet who sits on a tuffet and couldn't even run away of her own volition if a spider sat down beside her. I tell them I end up killing a lot of the spiders. And thinking about blog posts that make sense to a Cheshire cat. Anyway. So this splendid week kicked off with buckets of rain which prompted a jaunt to the mall for some marathon mall-walking, and subsequently satisfying the curiosity of strangers over and over with, "It's a girl. Yup."

Do you know who we saw at the mall? I'll give you a hint: MONKS! Oh throw some sand on me and call me a mandala. What's better than a monk? Monasticism in general = fascinating. Meditation, eating sparingly, living communally? I would flunk out of Monastic Living 101 after 45 minutes. Ergo! Monks are awesome to me. Particularly ones that shop at major places of commerce wearing sandals and man bags. I noticed one was inspecting some flashy wallets and I wondered maybe if he had a weakness for posh change purses pre his monastic life. I don't know if I've conversed with a monk before, but if I had had the wherewithall to speak with these monks, I would have had the following Q's for them:

- So, what brings you here today? - Did you try a free sample at the pretzel stand? Or does taking free things that are not necessarily gifts cause an imbalance in the universe? - Have you SEEN the prices on those all weather parkas? Who do they think they're kidding? I should probably read up on monk life a bit more in case I ever have the opportunity to interview one...In the meantime, I enjoy living with an equally zenned out baldie. And her dad.

Marathoner

No marathon for Madigan on Monday. She was a rockstar the night before, and Papa John worked an overnight, so we were all bumbling around like Spiderpig the next morning - just not knowing which way was up. We had every intention of going down to cheer on the Mercuries among us, alongside the festive cheering squad of our college neighbors who had been drinking their faces off since 8 a.m....and, maybe next year, Baby Girl. We did have a splendid Patriot's Day, though, and I suppose a sort of marathon of sorts did take place, what with the strident and repeated attempts by Baby Girl to raise that little bloomin' onion of a head off the ground.

I give you...Tummy Time Marathon 2008.

Ruffle Bottom takes her mark...

She's outta sight...