What we spent money on:
What she chooses to use instead:
So close, yet so far.
Last weekend, we took Posey for her first haircut. Well, her first “real” haircut. My mom said it didn’t count when I trimmed the back of her head into a sweet little rattail. Now that she’s got a fancy new ‘do, I felt she needed something else in her life: fancy hair bows.
This is what Etsy is made for.
After a quick search, I came across a little shop called Ellie & Liv. It doesn’t get much cuter than this, people. And guess what? If you use discount code SPRING2013, you can save 10% now through 4/1/2013. If you don’t want a chocolate bunny to clip in your child’s hair, there is seriously something wrong with you.
I’ve had a lot of traffic from people searching for this topic, so I’ve got a few more ideas. I know the old cliché– never give your wife a toaster. And yet, this list includes a toaster. So take these suggestions with a grain of fine sea salt, because (as a stay-at-home-mom myself) I might be mad if Beef gave me cooking stuff. Like he was expecting me to make him dinner every night or something.
Make regular grilled cheese into fancy grilled cheese with this thing! Once one of Oprah’s Favorite Things, it became my Favorite Wedding Gift (thanks, Tom). I also use it to give meat those Sizzler-worthy meat-lines.
Cuisinart Smart Stick Hand Blender (Shop around for best price; this isn’t it)
I have my mother-in-law’s on (permanent?) loan with the expectation I’ll make homemade baby food. I have, but Posey prefers to eat cat food off the floor, so I prefer using this to make soup with. Don’t have any soup recipes? Keep reading…
I don’t know about you, but my favorite cooking magazine is the William-Sonoma catalogue. Everything looks good, half the food is already made for you (hello, Christmas morning croissants!) and the subscription is free. I checked this book out at the library once and immediately bought a copy. Which reminds me, I once worked with someone who asked me, “Ooooh! What’s– The Library?” Like it was some awesome new lounge. Wait ’til she hears about this amazing new dinner spot I discovered, called “My Couch!”
I recently posted Posey’s Wishlist. And now… here are a few things that could solve my (superficial) problems this holiday season. Something to think about for the stay at home mom on your list this year.
(It’s important for me to note here that Posey sleeps through the night like a champ. But the cat does not.)
I Look Bad.
I’m One-Third of a S.I.F.
Beef coined this term to stand for “Single-Income Family.” Staying at home is a blessing that means I get to spend every day taking care of my sweet baby and making waffles with the waffle iron more mornings than not, but it also means not doing everything the way maybe I used to. So don’t get her something practical. Get her something nice. Cause, you know, she’s nice.
Here’s a few things I think are Christmakkahtacular this holiday season…
Right?!? The chickens are the cutest! No, the turtles… no, the OTTERS…
After a year of wear and tear, Posey’s orange gingham sheets are pretty grungy and barely stretch over the mattress anymore. This paisley pattern is girly… without being too cupcake-y. Is it too soon for a nursery makeover?
This is the only item of clothing she’s owned in every single size so far. I’m devastated that she’s about to be on the biggest ones!
Beef is a Master Puzzler, and it’s a hobby he hopes to pass on to his daughter. I guess it’s never too early to get started– and these puzzles are just about at her level.
This is what I’ve decided to get my girl for Christmas. Her #1 hobby right now is slapping coffee tables. Recently, after witnessing Posey go hog wild slappin’ and squealin’ in her living room, a friend’s six-year-old daughter said to me, “You know what you should get her? Her own table.” Brilliant idea, kid. (Sold all over– Diapers.com has the best price, but it’s temporarily out of stock)
What’s on your baby’s wishlist this year?
Yes, Giants’ pitcher Buster Posey is amazing and hit the third grand slam in the team’s post-season history today.
But our family likes him for a different reason… he saves us money on personalized clothing.
At first, I think I projected “likes” onto my girl. As in, “She just LOVES that Lamby!” (No, it’s in front of her face, and she doesn’t know how to turn her head) or, “She is OBSESSED with that lion rattle and won’t let go!” (Nope, she doesn’t know she has opposable thumbs and possesses the power to drop things.) But eventually, one thing rose to the surface above all others and was able to capture her attention— and her little heart:
Mickey Mouse Clubhouse
Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is a cartoon on Disney Junior and possibly the world’s best invention, perhaps even beating the toilet and Ziploc bags and ZzzQuil. I know it’s not recommended that babies under two watch television, but who are we kidding? I’d rather she watch this than Game of Thrones, which her father was totally okay with. In every episode, Mickey calls on his mouse-eared floating iPad named Toodles (“All we have to say is, ‘Oh, Toodles!‘”), who presents four “mousketools” of the day to help them solve whatever dilemma’s afoot, be it Donald turned into a frog or Goofy turned into a baby. More likely than not, somebody got turned into something, and they need a key/banana/watering can/shoehorn to fix the problem.
This morning, two of the people I love most got stranded for the second day in a row at an airport in Europe, and the first thing that popped into my mind was, “Oh, Toodles!” Where the hell was he when I needed him? Here are the Mousketools I could have used today:
What are you hoping Toodles hooks you up with?
Once upon a time, I complained about this issue.
When warm milk won’t cut it, and you’re scared Ambien will make you sleep-drive– let me introduce you to your new best friend (and it’s so helpful when you fly a red-eye, too).
Have you ever taken NyQuil just to help you sleep? I’ve done it. And I guess a lot of other people have, too, because they smarted up and released this:
I love you. Thank you for doing what you say you’ll do without making me sleep-email, sleep-blog, sleep-eat, or sleep-murder. I sleep a lot more soundly not worrying about any of those things happening.
She ate a jigsaw puzzle piece. Can you spot the hole?
To be fair, she gummed it up beyond recognition, and Beef dug it out of her mouth in time. This is the second time this has happened since my husband declared himself a Master Puzzler. Today, I freaked out about it in therapy, and lo and behold… my therapist is a fellow Master Puzzler. Her smart suggestion?
Store all your pieces, even if they’re sorted, and you can put it all away if people are coming over and you want to keep your puzzling habit a secret. Just what the doctor ordered. Look how happy this lady is, confident her baby won’t eat any stray pieces: