The first hour...
When people call they usually ask me, "what's new?" I find this question oddly unnerving. Not only because I used to always have something new to talk about but because what I now consider new is coma inducing uninteresting. Don't get me wrong, it's amazing to me and Mike, and to those who check our video and picture website multiple times a day *ahem*...Me'Me' *HUGE GRIN* but not really beyond that. As a demonstration, I would like to offer to you the first hour of my life, most days.
I wake demure and rested to the early morning yelps of my wee one , or caked in drool with my hair plastered to the right side of my face donning YouTube worthy bags under my eyes, you pick. I then take Aasta into the kitchen where I fumble about making a pot of coffee baffled by the pile of dishes I thought I did ten times the day before sitting in my sink. Desperation brewing completed I then scrounge about the kitchen to find Aasta something healthy and filling for breakfast, enter a hand full of cheerios followed by a half-eaten tub of yogurt. I sit in the chair next to her as she devours said breakfast of champions and stare blankly out the window at my neighbor who has something to do on his back porch every morning, rain, shine, snow, sleet, or tornado and wonder how many times he's replanted that fern. The coffee maker beeps waking me out of my glazed state ushering in the first blissful part of the day, my first sip of coffee.
Things improve exponentially from here. I usually chat it up with Aasta who responds to everything I say with a cheeky grin and a spit accompanied "DAH!" We speak the same language. This is the first 20 minutes.
Next I clean Aasta off (people who say babies don't like to have their faces wiped off haven't discovered the art of what I like to call full-immersion-dining whereby one makes sure their kid is so covered in what they just ate you get to hose them down after every meal. After a couple full-body wipe down's Aasta is elated when I only have to wipe off her face.) Then I put her down and let her walk all over the house emptying anything be it box, bag, purse, trash can, or kleenex box, onto the floor. See pictures.
Ok, Ok so the second picture doesn't look too bad but what you can't see is that there are Cheerios mashed into everything, milk poured on the high chair, bananas mashed into the chairs, and the entire contents of my tupperware cupboard strewn the length of the kitchen. I then walk around, return items into their appropriate containers, or a space under the rug, and try to squeeze in some work here and there. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my first hour. There are days I'm not entertained by this process but honestly, who can stay upset at this...
I wake demure and rested to the early morning yelps of my wee one , or caked in drool with my hair plastered to the right side of my face donning YouTube worthy bags under my eyes, you pick. I then take Aasta into the kitchen where I fumble about making a pot of coffee baffled by the pile of dishes I thought I did ten times the day before sitting in my sink. Desperation brewing completed I then scrounge about the kitchen to find Aasta something healthy and filling for breakfast, enter a hand full of cheerios followed by a half-eaten tub of yogurt. I sit in the chair next to her as she devours said breakfast of champions and stare blankly out the window at my neighbor who has something to do on his back porch every morning, rain, shine, snow, sleet, or tornado and wonder how many times he's replanted that fern. The coffee maker beeps waking me out of my glazed state ushering in the first blissful part of the day, my first sip of coffee.
Things improve exponentially from here. I usually chat it up with Aasta who responds to everything I say with a cheeky grin and a spit accompanied "DAH!" We speak the same language. This is the first 20 minutes.
Next I clean Aasta off (people who say babies don't like to have their faces wiped off haven't discovered the art of what I like to call full-immersion-dining whereby one makes sure their kid is so covered in what they just ate you get to hose them down after every meal. After a couple full-body wipe down's Aasta is elated when I only have to wipe off her face.) Then I put her down and let her walk all over the house emptying anything be it box, bag, purse, trash can, or kleenex box, onto the floor. See pictures.
Ok, Ok so the second picture doesn't look too bad but what you can't see is that there are Cheerios mashed into everything, milk poured on the high chair, bananas mashed into the chairs, and the entire contents of my tupperware cupboard strewn the length of the kitchen. I then walk around, return items into their appropriate containers, or a space under the rug, and try to squeeze in some work here and there. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my first hour. There are days I'm not entertained by this process but honestly, who can stay upset at this...
I love the irony in you showing pictures of your destroyed house and then Aasta in a wild animal costume. ;) That and she can't any cuter. It's over the top already.
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