Daily Deeds Rule #1: Snack Time

We have evening snack time. Mostly this consists of cookies and milk for Adam. Jo likes to get in on the action.

Usually just crackers for the baby girl at this point. Though I am sure if she realised the difference she would ask for the cookies. And who could turn her down?
Look at this face.

Jo's Rules: Eat it all!

Here, purely for memory's sake, we present:

Jo Eats January 2013

Oatmeal

Blueberries

Applesauce

Pears

Bananas

Peas

Carrots

Green Beans

Rice

Sweet potatoes

Lentils

Bread

Grapes

Cheerios 

Cottage cheese

Clementine*

*this is her favourite and requires the peeling of every segment. It's a situation. 

Baby Hair Rule #1

I had no idea when the ultrasound tech confirmed we were having a girl what sorts of joy this would bring into my life. 

I had no idea that pigtails would be so exciting. But they are here. And they are. 

Honest to goodness pigtails. 

Cravings Rule #1

Sometimes you just need a little something. Like some chocolate. Or some Haribo.

 Luckily your sister has some. 

Birthday Rule #1

Sometimes people go to Hawaii for their birthday. Once that was me. On that occasion a very interesting conversation at work resulted - now that I work from home the only interesting conversation such a trip could produce would be with the small human who really runs our home (she's sure I am just acting CEO).
It would probably involve requests for applesauce and raisins. But mostly the raisins.
It's a glamorous life.
This year none of us are trekking to Hawaii for a birthday so Mamo went ahead and did it for us.
She claims she was at a conference. I have seen the pictures. They speak for themselves.
Before she left we went to lunch to celebrate the birthday we would be missing.
Jo rocked a mohawk and combined it with a daisy chain head band.
She's a classy girl.

Teacher Rule #1: Let it Be

My students are all men this block. Every last one of them. Male and recently arrived to the country from Saudi Arabia to boot. And they're pretty young, 19 or so for the majority.
 This makes for some pretty interesting conversations (if you can call them conversations wtih such limited English).
Topics have included why I am working, how many wives they have (most of them none though they try to shock and tell you they have four, which they think is hilarious), why I don't drink coffee, when my baby is coming, what gender the baby is, if they can marry the baby, if I will stay home after I have the baby, what I will call the baby etc. etc. They are very interested in the baby.
Said interest takes one particularly endearing form:

If that little man in the picture above seems particularly heavily laden, he is. That's one of my students who will not allow me to carry my own bag. To begin with I objected, but I am over that now. Despite the fact that he is shorter than me, and has his own massive student size backpack to carry, he will purposefully march over to me, relieve me of my belongings, and march up the hill (it's quite a hill too). Once he gets to the building he will hand the bag over to another student who is in my class that hour and take off for his own class. That student then carries it upstairs to my classroom.

One day when we were going through this process of getting "Teacher Laura" to her classroom with her belongings, another student accompanied us and earnestly informed me that walking with my bag was not good for me and baby. He said it would make the baby go "whoosh." I told him I may try that come the end of April. He had no idea what I was saying.

Baby Rule #1: Keep track of important things

Someone should remind you on a daily basis after you find out that you're going to be bringing home a baby, that it really is going to happen.

Because holy cow batman, we're having a baby and I feel like no one told me.
Perhaps I should have looked at the evidence more regularly. (See above photo)
I get weekly emails from some website or another that remind me how many weeks I am, and consequently, how many weeks I have left.
Today they said I have 11 weeks left. My poor little brain goes haywire every week when I read those numbers.
Someone around here should really start getting their stuff together.

I guess that would be me.  Since, as you can see from his expression, Des has no interest at all.