Having kids get older means you do responsible things like take them to open their first bank account. I don't know why it blows my mind that my baby now belongs to a federal credit union, but it does.
While we were waiting in line I realized that my daughter may have never even been in a bank before. I do everything online, and when I occasionally need to visit an actual branch I do it while she's at school.
"Have you ever been in a bank before?"
"So what do you think?"
"It's less interesting than Gringott's."
Well, yeah. The wizarding bank from Harry Potter is a vast marble hall staffed with goblins and protected by enchantments and fire-breathing dragons. Our bank just has fluorescent overhead lighting and a jar of Dum Dums for the little kids who come in.
It's been several months since I needed to start supplementing with formula to feed my 8-month-old.
At first I was using up the samples of the brand name formula I brought home from the hospital, and when that ran out I went to CVS and got some of the store brand.
Around that same time he started turning up his nose at bottles. I didn't make the connection until I was given some more name brand samples by a friend... and he drank them happily.
My baby is a brand snob! How did that happen?
|Says right here on the label: "all infant formulas sold in the U.S. meet the same FDA requirements."|
I've raised 5 other babies before and I've never seen anything like this. Store brand was always good enough for them. Next thing you know he'll be demanding designer onesies and an iPhone 7 to play Peekaboo Barn.
I'm not sure what happened, but the other day the four oldest kids decided to clear the entire driveway of snow. Nobody asked them, they just did it. And I certainly wasn't going to stop them.
As Phillip and I sipped hot chocolate and watched them out the window, we may or may not have agreed that this is why we had children.
Have you ever used an online photo site to make a picture into a puzzle?
This Christmas, the baby drew his 10-year-old sister's name for our family gift exchange and decided to make a photo puzzle of the first time she held him in the hospital. (Totally his idea, I just helped.)
Turns out that the puzzle was really hard, especially her polka-dot sweater and her long, loose hair.
As we were struggling with the puzzle she kept saying "Why didn't I wear a different shirt? Why didn't I put my hair up?"
I pointed out she didn't know then that we were going to turn a picture from that day into a puzzle.
Her older sister answered, "When you get ready in the morning your first thought should always be, 'What if someone makes a puzzle out of this moment?'"
That's probably advice that is applicable to all of us, really.
Over here, we are also having frustrations with girls' workout clothes. Honestly, who decided that LITTLE GIRLS need to look sexy when they exercise?
We went shopping and it seemed like everything in the activewear department was either skin tight or had a microscopic inseam. Or both. My daughter tried a bunch of stuff and said she was just uncomfortable in all of it.
We ended up finding a pair that at least went mid-thigh and hit up the boys' department for a second pair — proving that it is, in fact, possible to play sports in something that doesn't look like a bikini bottom but apparently only for boys.
I watched the new Ghostbusters movie and enjoyed it way more than I thought I would. Read this review instead of watching the trailer to make your decision; somehow they made the most boring and un-funny trailer ever out of the most fun movie I've watched in a while.
Go see it, and tell them Jenny sent you. (That won't do anything, by the way.)
On a related note to the last take I noticed that even though they were female, the Ghostbusters were able to do their jobs in serviceable jumpsuits that weren't so tight they were painted on or so short their buttcheeks were hanging out.
Still trying to reconcile this with the situation in the girls' activewear department at JC Penney.
The baby has started getting around with an army crawl, and boy is he fast when he sees a chance to do something he's not supposed to.
Yesterday he clawed his way over to the giant block city the 2- and 5-year-old had built earlier that day and wildly began knocking it down before I could stop him.
My 12-year-old came in just in time to see him scoot over and start smashing, and sang "I came in like a wreeeee-cking baaaaall!" and now I will never hear that song the same way again.