Happy Hour at the Boob 'N Bottle

So let me tell you a few things about Baby X.

She has mid-career Elvis sideburns. We think the back hair will soon go away but it doesn't detract from her beauty.

We are like 'Laurel and Hardy Have a Baby.' It takes two of us to take off one of her long sleeved shirts. OK, it takes two of us a half an hour to take off her long sleeved shirt.

So we're pretty scared to give her a bath (although we tried this once). Consequently, from above her head looks like that of a greasy middle age physics teacher with a very bad comb-over.

Or as my husband said "I know! We could write the funniest screenplay! Two Parents and A Baby."

So far we kind of suck but she's perfect. Baby X is showing us the way.

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Q: How do you know when post partum emotionalism has you in its sticky grip?
A: When the song 'Desperado' seems touching to you. OK, it was Johnny Cash singing it which should count for something. But there's worse.

Miel joins a cult...

I'm now a member of 'The Baby Cult' (no umlaut).

There are many rituals to be performed. But really, I have never known such fulfillment.

Join us...join us...You think you are happy now, but you aren't. There is something more for you, something that will improve your life beyond your wildest imaginings.

I will explain soon the cult's membership requirements (sleep deprivation is one of our favorite induction methods).

This explains my recent, and sometimes future, absence. I shall return, transformed, improved and covered in one of the many sacred substances--spit up.