Betsy

I am a total awesomesauce blogger who now gets to this fun little task about once a week.

I don't take more time than that, plus there isn't much more material to warrant multiple posts. That being said, let's catch up! Last weekend I took a major step and broke G's nightly routine. It was scary. We went to Tim and Jamie's to watch the IU game, which started at like 7:30.

30 minutes past Genevieve's bedtime.

Could I do it?

I did!

The evening started off shaky.

Lots of tears with general feelings of being overwhelmed.

Allison did her best baby soothing.

Dragon Liam and Dino Jack brought Baby Einstein videos to life, with children in ridiculous costumes.

They weren't schooled on the whole moving slowly with puppetry part of the Baby Einstein visual artistry, so I think G nearly got whiplash.

Soothing Charlotte did some baby whispering.

Genevieve put her hands over her ears.

How rude!

Her father came to check out her status, but certainly not before removing his napkin that protected Uncle Maurice's sweater from Jamie's chili.

That green sweater was one of Uncle Maurice's relics that T chose for his very own closet. It makes me very happy. That sweater probably dates back to pre-Trinity birth.

Those jerks at Pottery Barn finally delivered G's bookstand.

This was a Christmas present from YaYa and Bob, that finally arrived in March.

Ah, yuppie furniture has a high demand.

Saturday was beautiful, so we went to the Indy Winter's Farmers Market.

Our lady had her cell phone, so she didn't miss any calls.

Ah, the fruit!

Is this Mr. Roger's neighborhood?

Again, where are the creepy puppets?

We made one purchase, but not before there was 15 minutes of Q&A and pondering.

You all might not be aware that my husband is obsessed with chapstick.

He loves the stuff. He is constantly applying it.

I am constantly running it through the damn washing machine because he doesn't remove it from his khakis before depositing it in the hamper.

His eyes immediately went to the table of holistic, no antibiotics, no animal byproducts, completely vegan, smells like patchouli stand of lotionry and/or chapstickery.

He made his approach.

Would a purchase be made?

I explained to G that she might as well nap, as Daddy would ask that bearded man so many questions that we might as well be buying a car.

Finally, $3 left my tight wad husband's mitts.

The sale was almost lost when he discovered there was no SPF.

He would have to chance it with the sun's rays.

Risky.

G and I were relieved that this exchange was over, particularly after Trinity mentioned that he wished he had brought animal pelts to trade for that voodoo chapstick.