A Day of Rest

Thank God it rained last night. Not only will it be good for the tiny growing plants and soon-to-sprout seeds in the garden, but it gives me an excuse to not have to work out there today. I can't! It's too wet! Thank you, Mother Nature, for granting me a day when I don't have to feel guilty if I don't get out there to dig and plant more.

Of course, the rain also means that those evil weeds are even now plotting the coup they will stage to gain control of the garden as soon as the sun comes out, and I will have to go out there with my hoe and lop off all their heads. It's just like the French Revolution! The plants are the common people, the weeds are the aristocracy, and I am the guillotine.

Or something.

The Future Strongman

I don't think I've mentioned before that Cubby, while not a particularly large newborn, has exceptionally big hands and feet. Now, I don't know much about human babies, but I know that in puppies, large paws mean a large dog in the future. And so, if I may compare my son to a dog (in the most loving way possible, of course--and considering my level of Dog Crazy, that's a lot of love, indeed), it seems likely that this child will grow into a very big, strong man. At least as big and strong as his daddy, who is not exactly small and weak. In fact, his daddy is about the strongest man I know. In real life, anyway. Those guys who compete in the strongman competitions on TV are stronger, but they also pull trains while roaring like animals and have names like Thor Thorgeson, so, you know, I don't think I'd want to be married to one.

ANYWAY.

Cubby is on track to being a normal strongman, in any case. Strong enough to lift the chicken feed for me at least, which is really all I require.

Yeah. He's got a ways to go yet.

Stylin'

Yesterday, I wore black pants with bleach stains and a broken zipper. And a men's snap-up corduroy shirt.

Today, Cubby is wearing bright red sweatpants with a gray stripe up the sides, his plaid flannel shirt, and a navy blue and white striped hoodie sweatshirt.

I don't think we will be gracing the pages of The New York Times Style section as a mother/son fashion duo anytime soon.

Ow

I did a lot of digging yesterday. And will likely do a lot more today. Although we have access to a family member's tilling machine, we can never seem to get it here in time for the spring plantings. Also, the soil in our garden varies from square foot to square foot, so that one patch will be dry and workable while another is still sodden and clumpy. Makes it kind of hard to use the tiller. That's why our early plantings tend to be all over the place, as we search out the driest spot to plant the early lettuce, then the next-driest to plant the beets. And so on.

Yesterday I managed to get in beets, carrots, and snap and snow peas before Cubby woke up. And before my arms, back, and legs gave out. Today, assuming I get an uninterrupted hour or so in which to work (got that, Cubby?), I should be able to plant parsley, dill, chard, parsnips, and turnips. And then I'll probably collapse in a heap and demand that A. push me around in Cubby's stroller for the rest of the day because I'll be crippled.

Oh well. It's good exercise. Who needs fancy weight machines when there are ten tons of dirt to be lifted, right? Right.

Pass the ibuprofen.

I'm Out

Can't talk now, duckies. Cubby is asleep, the sun is shining, and there are many, many seeds to be planted. I have my priorities.

Peas, carrots, and other tasty vegetables await my planting. Have a super day.

P.S. Note to self: Damn, self. Next time you decide to dig up half the garden in one go, howsabout having some water first? And wearing gloves. Dumbass.

Fashion Show

While I may be conspicuously lacking in the clothing department (but never fear, lovies--I have a plan to procure the necessary chest-baring apparel), Cubby most certainly is not. That kid has more clothes than A. and I put together. I really need to figure out this racket of getting people to just buy you clothes for no reason. Other than being brand-new and crazy-cute, of course. Neither of which I happen to be, sadly.

ANYWAY.

Blackrock Outfitters proudly presents:

Cubby's Spring Fashion Show

Cubby says the farmer look is hot this year. He also says maybe we should not be leaving him near the edge of anything anymore because he is THISCLOSE to rolling over, God help us all.

Camo is also a trend this year. The deer-head booties are key to this look. They are also totally impractical because they're too puffy and would not stay on AT ALL. And the camo onesie lasted less than a day before one of the snaps broke. Nice quality, local Huge Outdoor Store. Remind me to never buy anything from you that my survival in the outdoors might actually depend on, thanks.

OH MY GOD, MY EYES! The cuteness! It is blinding! And still too big, obviously. Dear L.L. Bean: I would not like to meet the gargantuan 0-3 month old child that would actually fit into this suit. But I forgive your obviously ridiculous sizing, because WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT CUBBY BEAR?

There was also a very fetching pale blue ensemble that made him look like an 80-year-old escapee from a Florida retirement community, but I didn't take a picture of it. Not that it matters, because honestly? Nothing is going to top that Cubby suit.

Have a lovely Monday, poppets!

I'm Back

Except you probably didn't even know I was gone. But I AM back. Back from our exciting and TOTALLY USELESS excursion to find summer-weight nursing apparel. For me, obviously. Cubby seems able to nurse regardless of his outfit.

ANYWAY.

I mean, we drove ALL THE WAY to the Not As Small City, which is a good 45 minutes away. We packed up Cubby and I got A. to come with me so he could haul Cubby around while I looked for clothes. This was an expedition, y'all. We went to Target and didn't find anything for me, although A. found some pants. Then we drove around some looking for a maternity store with nursing clothing that supposedly exists in that city. Except it totally doesn't. After an hour of useless Target shopping and searching for this made-up store, we finally gave up and went to a Chinese buffet for lunch. Which I had to leave after about 10 minutes because Cubby decided that no, it was not time for Mommy to eat, it was time for Cubby to eat. And the car, which was the only available place for Cubby-feeding, was about a million degrees from the sun.

So. Not a successful day in general. But the sun will come out tomorrow! Hopefully not too hot, though, since I don't have any clothes for it. Dammit.