Strange Days

Aloha friends. As you can see, Ceci had a play date with her BFF this week. The play date mainly consisted of them staring at one another and smacking their gums. Matthew reported that at one point Ceci attacked her BFF, as she is wont to do, in a fit of diaper-changing jealously. No babies were injured in said incident.
I didn't witness any of this cuteness because I spent the week orienting at Shiny New Job. I am exhausted. I am also intimidated. The Mean Little Voice that lives in my head has been on a steady purr all week long. Mean Little Voice likes to whisper gems like:
"You're not smart enough to do this",
and
"Your new boss will see that right away".
I've already considered going back to my old job if I get fired on Monday.
Of course I realize that Mean Little Voice lies. And I know that MLV is my fear of failure rattling the bars of its cage yet again. The history I share with MLV goes back decades. In the past MLV has gotten me all worked up, and then I DO fail because I listened to MLV and found a way to wiggle out of trying anything at all. Because if I don't try, no one can say I failed, right?
It's sick, I know. I intend on spending the weekend over preparing for Monday and telling MLV to shut the fuck up. It's the new me.
In other news, we had a quickie spring snow in Bellingham.

Ick. If you can't tell from the photo, it was a wet, heavy snow. It was a slushy mess that thankfully melted away within 24 hours. At this time of year, snow is just so unwelcome. I'm at the point where if I don't see some sunshine soon I'm going to go Yellow Wallpaper in this house. I've been scratching myself for days in what must be a sign of endless-winter induced psychosis. 

Also, the cat seems to have some sort of head injury. She has a large bloody wound on her skull and is wandering around looking a bit dazed. Why I didn't get pet insurance for this cat I'll never know. She is the most accident prone creature I have ever known. 

This Moment

This moment. A Friday ritual. A single photo- no words- capturing a moment from the week. A single, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor, and remember. Inspired by Soule Mama.

Postpartum Buzz

Friends, I have so much to tell you and I don't even know where to begin. First off, here is an excellent part of my weekend I forgot to share-

It's true people, that is some fancy shit. Because I have highfalutin tastes in my imbibing, LL and I picked out this fabulous wine to drink once we were not knocked up. I slobbered over this bottle for months, and five months postpartum we finally got around to it. LL gets very little sleep these days, so it was somewhat miraculous she stayed awake for our entire happy hour wine session with Sam. We had wine, cheese, meats, wine, pate, and birthday cake! It was a dream come true.

A picture of LL, our husbands, and I on the very night I was impregnated. It's true. I think it was the heels.  

Also, I have one more day of work at Sucky Job. You would not believe the workplace drama that has unfolded in my last week. Both of the doctors I work with left town this week, so they called in a locum tenens. This locum doctor is also known as Dr. Pervy-Pants. Holy crap he is a dirty old man. The theme of the week is perverts for sure. One more day friends. God give me the strength to leave my sharp tongue and weaponry at home tomorrow and on Monday I will start a brand new job. 

Flexibility

A conversation regarding Ceci between my friend J. and her son, L.
L: Mommy, she's kinda fat.
J: She's not fat sweetie, she's a baby.
L: But, her face.

I ask you friends, are fat people flexible enough to get their feet in their mouth? Riddle me that. They are not. Bam. Case closed.

In birthday cake news, viola!

I ended up making lovely LL a birthday cake from Smitten Kitchen. After Matthew's birthday cake success I decided to give the website another whirl, and the cake turned out pretty yummy.

It's a classic buttermilk cake with sour cream chocolate frosting. Yum. I love that little bit of tang in the frosting. I dig it when my food bites me back. My only quibble is that the frosting recipe asks you to add espresso powder to the chocolate before melting it in the double boiler, thus insuring that the damn chips will take FOREVER to melt. In fact, I'm not sure if they ever would have melted at all if chef husband hadn't stepped in and saved the day. All's well that ends well. I got to eat cake for dinner two nights in a row and my last day at Sucky Job is Thursday! Cheers. 

On Avoiding Perverts In Swimwear

After my last post, it was gently brought to my attention that I would look quite boobylicious in this swimsuit.
I suppose this should have been obvious to me, since I've had a big old rack since my teen years. Since the baby came, they have truly become TERRIFYINGLY GIGANTOR (yes, that is the medical term). I have Godzilla boobs, and Godzilla is obviously a lady (As evidenced by the pregnancy induced RAGE and catfight with Mothra).
Anyway, sometimes when I am shopping online I completely forget to shop for my body type, and instead shop for what I wish my body type was. It is a dangerous and expensive habit.
I am not a fan of wearing swimsuits that showcase my chest. This is partially because I've had unpleasant encounters with masturbating exhibitionists, as well as with catty women who felt compelled to ask me if my cleavage is artificially enhanced. Lame and lame. I'd like to avoid any such future encounters.
It still bothers me that as a teenager I had some adult men expose themselves to me. This happened more than once on the beach. Ick. It's hard for me to separate these instances from my bikini, and from having larger breasts, because I really felt that they were pervert bait hanging right there in front of me.
That is a whole post in itself that I'll write another time. These incidents stopped when I grew into womanhood. Apparently as soon as I resembled an adult I lost my appeal for the creeps in my neighborhood.
There really are a lot of predatory men out there, and Ceci will be trained with a crossbow as soon as I can manage it.
Anyway, now that I've got that off my chest I can move on to swimsuits.
My very helpful friends threw some comments and suggestions my way.
K. suggested this one. Lovely. But I can imagine my boobs sneaking out the top.
A. from This House Gets Crazy at Three O'Clock mentioned this one.
And KJ thought I might want to be even MORE modest and go this route. I mean, if any perv tried to wag his johnson at me in this getup, I'm pretty sure God would smite him immediately.
Have a lovely weekend!