The problem with twittering is that now I think of entries in very small bites. Less than 150 character bites.
The problem with having a naturally thin husband is that he will go to the grocery store and buy pie and doritos without your consent when you are trying to cut evening carbs.
The problem with DDR is that you will always want to do it for cardio, even when it is a gorgeous day, and you have no excuse but to go outside for a nice run.
The problem with having a really cute baby is that her nanny will want to take her shoe shopping with her.
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I missed a day of blogging and did a sort of non-blog on Wednesday, but lots is going on. The baby is talking up a storm of babble. This morning she told me all about the butterflies on the wallpaper in her nursery next to her changing table. This afternoon she regailed me with tales of her mighty crawling exploits and napping marathons. She's also cruising the furniture, and since she is on two feet so much (but not walking yet), she seems more like a very tiny little girl than a large baby.
There are so many issues with breastfeeding. Bisousette had her first formula yesterday, with the expected results (HATE. ICK. YUCK. FOUL.) We have maybe 30 oz of frozen left (she goes through that quickly since we mix it up with her cereal), and the fresh supply I pump at work is dwindling rapidly as she eats less milk, and did I mention I hate pumping? she's hit or miss with the yobaby yogurt, and it's not so much the cereal I'm worried about, but that she will have enough to drink during the day for the next two months before she can have cow's milk. Anyway. We got a six-pack of enfamil from the hospital, and a couple of cannisters of powdered similac in the mail...I have my doubts that they will ever be palatable for her.
I'm digging the new season of Workout. Never thought I would say this, but I think Jackie was out of line, and Brian Peeler had every right to be ballistic! That show hardly ever shows anyone actually working out, but I can't watch it without picking up some weights and doing my sets. Go Workout.
My size 12 black trousers, the first trousers bought post-baby, are falling off of me, and brought a lot of comments today at work. Looks like it is time they were retired. Whew. I've got some 10s (fit okay, but loose) and 8s (fit okay, but tight) in the closet, ready to get back to my 6/8 real work clothes - the kind you dry clean - in another 5-10 pounds. Bad bad junk food and pie that Mr. Bisous brought home on Wednesday!
