Bridget Jones

I always feel like I need to start my entries with a slight "homage" to Bridget Jones' Diary, with my own baby-colored viewpoint:

Milk Units: 2
Poopie Diapers before 8 a.m.: 3
Times milk was regurgitated: 7*

*If you haven't read the book or seen the movie--oh well.

I have to keep reminding myself that no one else even cares about Bronwen's bodily functions. It's kind of sad how life with a baby reduces your topics of conversation to various fluids and excretions. An excerpt:

TJ: Hi Honey--how was your day?
Jen: It was great! Bronwen ate like a champ and gakked all over 2 of my shirts.
TJ: Wow, she was busy!
Jen: That isn't anything! She ruined 2 outfits before lunch with explosive poopies.
TJ: Wow, she was busy!
Jen: Yes, she was indeed.
Bronwen: Pooooppppthhhhhhh
Jen: Your turn, my sweet. Welcome home!

It's not just us either--I was volunteering at Petsmart, and I happened to ask the manager about his new son. I was told he was "big for his age," and that he was often constipated. Constipated. Keep in mind I am not buddy-buddy with the manager of Petsmart. The guy volunteered the info. The poor baby would be so humiliated if he knew his dad was going around spreading these vicious rumors. I acted like it was nothing and inquired whether or not the baby is breastfed. Hello?! Like it was any of my business; Yet there I was, asking about the eating habits of this guy's baby. I'm telling you...

Babies make people act in strange ways.

I now have no problem chattering away while shopping with Bronwen. I feel like I am helping her develop essential linguistic skill sets; in reality, I look like a nut. Thankfully the car seat in front of me offers me protection from the padded cell.

I have kiddie songs stuck in my head all day long. I randomly sing "Penguin's Lament" and "Snuggle Puppy" in the shower. In my car. IN MY HEAD.

I randomly smell her behind to see if her diaper is dirty.

I no longer mind spit-up as added fashion embellishment.

I would rather sit and make her laugh than do anything else in the world.

Hey--I know it's strange, but if/when you have kids--you'll understand. Honestly--I've never been happier being odd in all my life.

As an added random thought: I think Bronwen resembles Fozzie the Bear. I think it's the legs.


I'll try to get a better picture of her standing. It's just hard because she can't stand on her own yet, and the batteries in the camera have died. I'll also have to find a red and white polka-dotted scarf...