365 days later

It was this week last year that our little princess Zoë was conceived. For the following 39 weeks, she grew from a clump of cells to a tiny person inside of me. We did everything together from sleeping to traveling, she was with me at all times.

For the past 14 weeks she has almost always been an arm’s reach away from me. I can still count on my fingers the times I even have left the house without her for a few hours. When we are out and about, I’m usually wearing her in a sling or carrier, or like yesterday’s mall excursion – carrying her in my left arm. It’s her favorite place. Her teeny butt resting on my hipbone while my arm supporting her body as she looks out at the world around her. For the past 365(ish) days she has always been RIGHT THERE next to me.

Until last night, the first night Zoë spent sleeping in her own room, in her crib.

While still only just over 8 lbs, the bassinette that is beside our bed was looking a bit small. We’ve been talking about moving her to her own room for a few weeks, but none of us were really ready. A few weeks ago I actually wrapped her up and put her in her crib and Jason walked in, took one look at her, looking up at him with those big dark eyes, and said “Nope, she’s still too small.” Another night we asked Zoë if she wanted to sleep in her own room and she crinkled up her face and started to cry – so we took that as a no. Last night I put her down in there for her evening nap (she goes down around 7/8 then we wake her up at 10 for her last feeding of the day) for her to ‘get used to being in her crib in the dark’ and she fell right to sleep. So after her 10 feeding, we put her right back in there. Thinking if she protests then we can bring her back to our room. She didn’t protest.. and once again fell right to sleep. Where she slept through the night.

Officially the longest amount of time in her existence that she has physically been that far away from me.

"Where do you hang out?"

Last Saturday night I actually went out for a bit of a mom's night out. I met some other mommy friends out for a glass (or 2..) of wine at a local wine bar. Real low key, just moms all with 3 1/2 year old boys having a laugh and swapping stories while enjoying some "mommy juice".

We were sitting there, pretty deep in conversation about pregnancy, the baby blues and the sometime hellish existence of having preschool aged boys, when the waiter came over and said that the was a man at the bar that wanted to buy us all a glass of dessert wine. And if there is ONE THING you learn in college that is good for the rest of your life, it's always accept a free drink. Also, one of the other moms at the table is single, so hey - don't want to put a kibosh on any of her action, right?

Not to mention, here we are, 3 30-something MOMS, being hit on. For very obvious reasons (flabby belly, baby attached to my boobs for the past 3 months, pure exhaustion) I assume they are not there to talk to me, but the hotties across the table that don't look like they've been to hell and only got back into town that day. The waiter brings over 3 glasses of this rose sparkling wine that has a fruity/berry flavor, and a plate with 3 truffles on it. My first thought is this guy is gggoooddd.. and obviously never been married because once married men somehow totally forget that the best way to try to get into a woman's pants is through wine and chocolate. He also doesn't immediately come over.. but lingers and waits until we have eaten the truffles and are on a bit of a subsequent sugar high.

So then this Rico Suave approaches the table with his friend. He's nice enough, but really is trying a bit too hard right from the get-go. We are gracious and thank him for the treats, and he plops himself down, and throws out the basic question; "So, you guys hang out around here? Maybe at D Street or The Saloon?" (FYI - local bars)

At this point I just giggle as I reply, "Yea, mainly just over at the Cottonwood Creek playground.. I'm, a bit of a regular there."

Poor guys.. to their credit, they did not flee at the first mention of '3 YEAR OLD SONS' and even made a comment that none of us looked over 30.

Baby Luv

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Over the past few weeks I've noticed that Zoe is definitely MY daughter. Yes, yes, the whole ripped from my uterus thing should have been proof enough, but in case there were any doubts.. Like me, designer clothes such as Ralph Lauren and DKNY fit her SO much better than Target brands, only the most expensive diapers out there will contain the princess poops, and yes, she shares a great dislike for the scale.

Only my little REFUSINGTOGAINWEIGHT daughter may dislike the scale for the reason that the numbers are not going up, while with me I despise the numbers not going down. But I will say that I did have a moment of motherly pride today when after seeing the numbers not climb the way they should for a little baby who's mother's boob seems to be permanently implanted in her mouth, Zoe expressed her dislike of the scale by immediately peeing all over it.

Which made me want to cry with pride and then sadness - since it caused her to loose another freaking precious ounce.

100 Days

On Saturday, little Miss ZoZo Pickle Pants turned 100 days old.

And we got to go to her little friend Siena's 2nd birthday party in a pretty little party dress..