Check-in:
I couldn’t IMAGINE leaving my house on New Year's night. Good call. Here we are (at home, warm, about to sleep)
Update on the talking competition:
Malachi is saying “dada” like he’s being paid to say it. No “mama” yet and Christopher is going by “papa,” so I still have a FLYIN CHANCE. The stakes are high (jk) but this is exciting (to me).
[another] difference between pre and post-baby Kristin:
“What are we going to do for New Years? We’re gotta do something”
vs. now, I have ZERO desire to leave my house, miss his bedtime, or be social. I still stay up late, but commonnnnnnn I don’t want to do anything. help and who am I
Malachi is easy because all I need to do when he cries is get close to his face and say “plop, plop, plop” until he stops crying and smiles at me. I’ve figured this kid out
in my lap, between my thighs is like a scrapbook of things I eat during the day. just because I drop crumbs in my lap, sit on them, and find them later when I transfer out of my chair. is this gross? or not
My game plan for this season: when there’s a tacky sweater event (already invited to 2, why do people do this), wear a cute or even moderately cute outfit that promises that I’ll be the best looking person there because everyone is dressed intentionally TACKY. I’ll look like I’m not any fun, but why not be cute & no fun, amiright?
I did buy Malachi a RIDICULOUS Christmas outfit, debuting at party #1 tomorrow. Stay tuned, maybe
I know my arms got stronger because I can now fill up and hold a water jug of 110oz of filtered water for baby formula with one hand at the refrigerator, whereas before I tapped out at 85oz.
I’m a MOM, can’t you see. it’s a different workout kinda workout
I’ve started eating popcorn kernels in two bites because, you know, I’m a LOON.
(Sweet and salty kettle corn, I eat too much. It’s an effort to slow down, but also it’s fun)
Ever since I started using aloe as face moisturizer my life has improved. I feel like a mermaid
Christopher accidentally bought me fruit on the bottom Greek yogurt cups instead of just regular Greek yogurt cups and I’m giving that ALL THE BLAME for my new small belly pudge. Not the at-home matcha lattes I drink every other day or the chocolate chips I eat after dinner, but those yogurt cups. how I pass the blame is professional
I just told my dad to “walk the plank” by way of an insult, and I just feel proud of myself
I’m excited for Malachi to be old enough that I don’t have to be anatomically correct* and start calling it a wiener again
I realized that if I play music and I move my mouth like I’m singing, Malachi probably thinks it’s my voice. I am Frank Sinatra, I am James Taylor, I am Billy Joel, I am only men, but it’s ok
Of all the names I call Malachi, Bunion is the only one that stuck. Baby Bunion, Bunion Boy, Little Bunion, sometimes just Bunion. Nicknames can’t be forced, yaknow? Whatever happens, happens, and “bunion” just happened. one day I’ll get to tell him he was named after a painful foot growth.
I knew a girl in college who thought the long version of “legit” was “legitly” and I think of that at least once per month, still. I wonder if she has a job?
I just can’t believe I get to be Malachi’s mom eeeevery freakin day. It’s such a blast
(look, a new and improved Kristin!!!)
Christopher and I are in silent competition for Malachi to say our names first. I’m whispering to him while he sleeps, saying “mama” over and over while 1-2 inches from his face, and saying it in different accents/tones. Mamas GOT THIS.
Standby, see who wins.
having a son has taught me so many things about the wiener, I could write a book on it (I won’t dw dw)
Today I just forgot to go to the bathroom. I guess it’s not relatable because most of you guys can feel when you need to go? But I can’t, and I just FORGOT. I’ve never done that before, so weird