1m2aSandbox

In doing a casual surf of daddytypes today, I discovered that the New York Times ran an article about the resurgence of co-sleeping.  The article declares that Dr. Ferber, long known as the “cry it out” guy, has supposedly reversed himself on co-sleeping, now stating it’s not so bad, and his “conversion” has encouraged parents who have been co-sleeping in secret to come out of the closet, so to speak, and declare the family bed proudly.
 
As you can imagine, this has sparked quite an internet debate.  Parenting-related bloggers everywhere are weighing in (myself included, obviously!) and posted comments to each entry are flying fast and furious.

In doing a casual surf of daddytypes today, I discovered that the New York Times ran an article about the resurgence of co-sleeping.  The article declares that Dr. Ferber, long known as the “cry it out” guy, has supposedly reversed himself on co-sleeping, now stating it’s not so bad, and his “conversion” has encouraged parents who have been co-sleeping in secret to come out of the closet, so to speak, and declare the family bed proudly.
 
As you can imagine, this has sparked quite an internet debate.  Parenting-related bloggers everywhere are weighing in (myself included, obviously!) and posted comments to each entry are flying fast and furious.

I know, I know, we’ve already had this conversation.  But it’s going on two weeks now, and the ole digestive tract ain’t what it used to be for baby girl.

There’s nothing more fun than buying clothes for a baby girl.

Or, if we’re being honest, more unnecessary.  Unnecessary, because every grandparent, uncle, and co-worker is buying your daughter cute little outfits.  No one can resist it!  I happily change her three times a day, pretending she’s got something on her clothes, because she looks so cute in everything.

So a fit of industriousness strikes me and I set to making more baby food.  We’ve got sweet potatoes stocked up in the freezer and the as-yet-unintroduced avocados frozen, cubed, and ready to go, but I’ve got a bunch of butternut squash in the fridge that needs to be dealt with as well as a lovely gift box of Riviera pears that are perfectly ripe and soft and I know my motherly duty to waste not, want not, so I virtuously roll up my sleeves and give up my evening off.

That, plus I want to hit the mall tomorrow and it seems a great opportunity to test out the new baby food cube trays that I got for Christmas.  What, like I’m the only one playing with my new toys?