Tuesday

1) Dudes. My bubsband is, like, totally famous. Scroll down to the second-to-last paragraph on page uno. Ooo let's go makeout, hottiepants bi'nessweek man! (But what's so him is I found out through someone congratulating him on his FB page.)

2.) Bebe clothes on clothesline.






3.) Sonic. Cherry limeade. At happy hour for a dollar.






4.) No comment.

Baby no nappy pants

I will stare you down. You will nap first, momz. Not me.

Harps napped a cumulative 30 minutes today. Half of which was in her stroller en route back from the liberry, where we picked up Madeline. And I somehow resisted a peppermint ice cream cone.

I'm lucky in that, even when sleep deprived, she doesn't really get too crabby. Just...clingy. So my arms are barking right now. Wait.

(And yes, she's cuddling a mouse in that picture. Which I guess makes me a hypocrite. Mea culpa. Also -- let's never discuss mice on here ever again, mmmkah? *shakes head in confusion*)

The elusive gigg

Ah, and almost-Monday rolls around again. All in all a productive weekend. Cooked/baked my face off: a Pioneer Woman's pasta recipe, slow cooker oatmeal with cranberries and vanilla, ginger snaps (used Alice Water's recipe - meh. I'll go back to Amy Sedaris's margarine-packed one, thaaaaaaanks), lemon/blueberry pudding cake, black bean soup, corn muffins and...I think that's it. I wanted to make a few batches of bebe foods, but realized my freezer-storage-systems weren't quite ready. So later this week, I'll give Biscuit a thrill as I puree pears and she looks on in horror/delight.

There was also regular laundry, cloth diaper laundry/line hanging, lawn mowing, floor scrubbing, weeding, and...mouse trap setting. Yes, it is true. We are living amongst some tiny furry friends. I cannot handle seeing another one waltzing around my feets, so -- certain death awaits. I kind of can't handle the sound they're about to make while I'm watching my programs. Choke.

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is another clip of our best friend chuckling it up. She smiles all the live long day, but laughing? Still a rare treat.

(I love how she pauses inbetween laughs to stare down the camera.)

(I have no excuses for what I'm doing in this video.)

Crazy toes for crazy mamas

Manj and I left our baby birds with their daddyos and got ourselves some icy cold Cokes and pampered footsies.

I came home to find H and cc napping together. Dun't get better than that, guys.

Happy birthday to my baby daddy

We love you oh so very much. And forgive you for sort of waking up the Biscuit this morning because you wanted to play with her before work.







We started eating the cake before you got home. Sorry buddy and xo to infinity!

Sew whut

This was Harper's reaction when I told her I want to learn sewing skillz.

But...MOMZ.  Remember sixth grade Home Ec? When the teacher had to finish your stuffed animal project thing because you started sweating buckets and threw a fit and couldn't get the stitches straight? Yeah, I thought you remembered. And still? Still you want to try?

Yeah, Harps J. I do.

Because I need to sew you a Halloween costume, dudette muffin! Duh.

Hair azz

In a nearby town to the one I grew up in, stood a salon named...Hair Azz. It haunted my mother and me for years because why? Why why why. Was it supposed to be some play on the word pizzazz? Or...jazz? Or? Please offer any suggestions you may have. We'll be standing patiently by.

Anywho.

I thought you might like an update on the Cowan ladies' hair situation.

1) Harps is rocking an amazing mowawk these days. We call it the Kewpie Hawk, for obvious reasons. I fear it's on its way out, though, as her lil peach fuzz grows longer and starts to weigh it down. I will cherish our every minute together until then.

2. Remember how all my hair fell out? Yep, that was funz. Well, just this weekend I noticed the baldness was starting to unbald. A good thing, right? You'd think? Except that when you grow hair back from scratch it goes through a majorly awkward awkwardness. Check my new bangs! Hot, no? You love it! And so do I.

Weekendzone recap

Though our natural habitat is...inside, the Cowanz clan decided to escape the heat of the valley this weekend and head to the Rockies. We ate elk sausage and blueberry pancakes in Estes Park, then found our way to Bear Lake -- this delicious little clear circle of delicious. We big peeps weren't allowed to swim (sigh), but there didn't appear to be any signs about No Baby Toe Touching.

Look how miniature her feet are! Look how short my shorts are!

I want to live in that water. Harps might not have felt the same.

Guys, guys. I'd like you to meet someone pretty okay -- my momz.

I enjoy this because it looks fake in the background. Also because those two are tasty.

So Saturday was full of mountains and driving around curves that made me nosh and crackly NPR broadcasts while we sipped coffee. Today, we kept things a little closer to the homezone. Piddled around vintage stores on Broadway, tried a new brunch joint, then headed to a yarn store I've been dying (dyeing? har har) to scope. As we walked in, I heard Clay say, "I think she might be a little sleepy..."

Fabric makes me EXHAUSTED.

You guys push it. You really, really push it.

And then...we came home. Snuggled in and got ready for the week to come. Zip zip!

A handful of things

1. The downsides of cloth. Little piles of pee-soaked bundles all over. Also? We just started some serious nighttime leaks. I might have to resort to -- choke gasp die -- 'sposies for sleep. I know, I know. You're totally mad at me.

2. Teavana's mint cacao black tea is making my mornings worth living. However, if next time I go in (because now I have to go in again -- I've tasted true love) their salespeople try and upsell me with some "you need a special canister" bullsh*t? I will end them.

3. My Subaru is unregistered. I drive around like I'm ze Fugitive, one eye always swiveling around.

4. I chose a playgroup member with a Jesus fish thing tattooed on her ankle to make the comment that "This playgroup is cooler b/c not everyone is so religious!"

5. If you tell me/imply to me that I carry my baby too much, I'll probably hate you on some level. Heads up.

6. When idiots discerning literary critics say "Team Jacob!" are they serious? They're really reading the books for anything other than Bella turning into a vampire and having vampire sex? I'm confused.

7. Six.five months in and I finally like nursing. Long road, peeps.

8. I basically can't take pics of H with my iFone anymore because SHE WANTS IT, LADY, NOW.

9. Tea time.

Big day

Swimming and sammies and naps with Manj and her Beanman. Quick zip to (new, mucho better) playgroup with other bubs and cooler-than-home toys. Drive to Starbucks for mama's vice. Zonktown, USA.

All in a day's work, peeps.

Time to throw away the bouncer

About to topple over, reaching for the computer cord.

"Technology!!!"

My mantle

Colored glass bowls, wedding love, toofragileforme orchid, vintage bluebird needlepoint, vintage Vertigo ad.

I'm getting obsessive having fun these days finding little things here and there to spice up the new pad. We usually hang a big pic over a fireplace, but we're enjoying this hodgepodge mix at the moment. (If that orchid is dead the next time I take a photo, blame Clay plzthx. It's his green baby -- not mine.)

She works hard for the mo-- er, milk

People ask me how I stay at home with a baby all day. Looking at those thighs, I say how could I not?

Not afraid to get her hands dirty. (Also: I think she might be flipping momz off?)

Like a little Italian baby bird

She spots Clay, from across the room, walking with his handy dandy green bottle and? Her mouth pops open like a hungry chickadee.

Death grip.

Holy s&*t I'm tired and covered in paint

Fussy gfri had zero interest in napping today, but mucho interest in mama painting the archway.

Working in her office al fresco while grandmom weeds. I like to make people work when they visit.

Stress eating lemon bars. Too eggy. Still helped.

Waiting

Every evening, around 6:30, HJ and I sit on the side steps and wait for Clay's truck to pull up. She knows what's coming and starts to smile.

Tuesday homestead

New shirt. Think it should be a uniform for all nursing mamas, if you catch my drift. Dirty mirror courtsey of Baby McTouchyPants.

Our bedroom in the morning. Plus one Chesney.

Spent 12 years cleaning off our wooden table this morning, stuck with chunks of pureed peas and prunes and peaches and puke. Picked up a new tablecloth because -- no thank you. Also, our backyard tree's purple flowers in baby food jars. And my favorite kitchen accessory -- a lil ceramic holder that keeps my butter warm and special.

Back

From now on, I'll be: sharing in a different way, locking down my Twitter account, only reading the blogs that happify me.

Here we go!

After picking up the third book in the Twilight series War and Peace at the library, before the afternoon thunderstorms struck, I put H in the swings for the first time. She dug it.

Sophie bit the dust at brunch the other day and needs a good scrub before H can munch on her giraffey legs again. (Anyone else unable to keep their sink empty?)

Cutoff jorts. L.L. Bean elf slippers. Chicken legs.

Self-enforced timeout

Found this just-slept-12-hours picture. I used to be well-rested, guys. Wow.

Ze internets have been driving me batshitbonkers lately. And I'm trying to figure out why/what/how. There are blogs I read that make me feel good and blogs I read that make me feel, well, notgood -- and same goes for bloggers and tweets and Facebooky nonsense and all that. Since this isn't exactly "real life" it seems ridiculous to let any of it upset me, no? I only want to write stuff and read stuff that makes me feel better and connected in a healthy way. So I'm taking a wee step back to figure out what I can do to make it fun again.

Be back in a week or so.

6 months.

Our best girl.

So tomorrow (or today, depending on when you click here) little Harper Junebug is six months old. Half a year. A bunch of days. It's surreal typing these words, because where did the time go? Didn't we both just celebrate our February birthdays and take rainy walks up and down San Francisco hills?

Dude. I love this baby.

Six-month-old Biscuit loves it when I sing and dance for her, hates when I leave the room (a new and, uh, interesting challenge), adores Pellegrino straight from the bottle (thanks, Clay!), lives for nakie time, no longer uses a binky, eats all foods like there's no tomorrow, is obsessed with all things technology, cuddles her baby mouse at bedtime, has the most delicious thigh rolls you've ever seen, twirls and tugs my hair while she nurses, is happiest when both mama and dada are home and smushing her like the bug she is.

I'm torn between sadness that her baby year is halfway done and excitement at everything that comes next. Sometimes (most of the time), I stare at her and just wonder at her 110% awesomeness. I want to bottle it up and use it to heal ... everything. It's that awesome, her awesomeness.

I feel real lucky I get this life.

Thanks for watching us go through this whole baby-mama-dada-lovey thing together. <3