Today Z picked 'Rad up from daycare while I braved a couple of strip malls in honor of a modest Christmas gift exchange between Z and I. I can't remember the last time I had that much 'Rad-free time. It wasn't time without stress, but I felt a sense of leisure that I hadn't felt in a while. It was nice. I perused some stores, found what I was looking for, didn't have to wait in too many lines for too long, and came home in time to put 'Rad down for his nap. I'm feeling good today.
My current state of mind is surprising given the fact that a little after midnight, Blue boy decided to hork up the bunny guts he ingested about an hour before. I didn't think he still had the killer instinct, but that dog caught himself a rabbit and proceeded to eat it in 15 minutes. So, we woke up to the horrible sound of a dog getting ready to barf in our room, which he proceeded to do in three distinct piles. It looked disgusting. It smelled disgusting. It was disgusting. Needless to say, our bedroom carpet will need some heavy steam cleaning or, even better, to just be replaced all together. Bunny barf in cheap shag carpet just don't mix well. Actually, I don't know if either of those things mix well with anything at all.
As promised, I got Connor's first visit with Santa pictures. Here's a little photo strip of them:
Looking at these pictures, I wonder if we need to start putting shoes on 'Rad. He's not walking anywhere, but his bottom half looks under-dressed in this picture for the 30 degree weather; Z had put our little man in much too little pants.
I picked up some 6-monther twill pants and jeans for him today. For some reason, putting denim on his baby bottom half seems like a momentous occasion, one that ranks right up there with eating his first solid food and saying his first word. I should have gone all out and gotten a sport coat with elbow patches and an oxford shirt - his first sophisticated, complex man outfit.
I'd love to mull through my thoughts a bit more, but there's pumping to be done, laundry to throw in the dryer, and a Babes na Babes (another nickname!) to feed. Night!