I never pick the right one of Gwen's naps to take a shower during. I can't tell you how many times I hear her yelling the second I put the shampoo in my hair. Talk about a trap.
I think so far I'm pretty much the mom I expected to be. Except I thought I'd bathe her more often.
I know this is a tale as old as time but I really hate how early it gets dark in the fall/winter. I don't like going out after dark alone so now I have lots of dark indoor hours in the evening. :(
I cannot figure out how to make a Boppy useful in my life. It's taking up way too much space to not be useful to me.
Some critter, probably our resident squirrel Buddy, left some droppings on our windowsill. Some (or maybe the same) critter got those droppings all over their paws and then all over our window. Halloween prank? Gross, guys.
The other day I sent an empty, unsealed envelope in the mail to my mom. I have no idea why.
Another other day, I fell asleep some time between Regan calling to say he was leaving work and Regan getting home. (This isn't that strange but hang on because what happened next is.) The deadbolt on our door was locked so Regan couldn't unlock it from the outside and started knocking. I didn't hear him. So he called me a few times. I didn't hear my phone. So he started panicking. Luckily(?) our downstairs neighbors were home so he crawled through their window and up the fire escape to our window. He could see me (and Gwen) asleep on the couch so he started knocking/pounding. I didn't hear him. Until finally I did, I guess, because I woke up. But waking up to a man on the fire escape in the pitch black pounding on the window isn't a pleasant way to wake up. (And being the husband pounding on the window and seeing no response from your wife isn't that pleasant either.) I don't know what I did next except stand in front of the window not opening it for about 30 seconds because my brain couldn't accept that it was my husband in front of me. It was bizarre and really scary. I had no idea what time it was or how he got there and was pretty shaken/out of it the rest of the night.
What I'm trying to say is that I think I'm just now getting what they call "pregnancy brain". Late bloomer.
It's starting to seem that there is literally nothing that can motivate me to exercise regularly. A wedding didn't do it, and neither did having a baby.
What kind of pie should I bake for the cook-off this weekend?