BamamaPancakes

With yours truly being Adalyn’s primary childcare, Sheaff and I were pretty pumped to bypass the daycare drama, thinking mainly this centered around a lot of drop off/pick ups, an intense immunity-build-up-boot-camp, and professionals who were licensed to never, never to bake a shaby.  We soon realized that if we had in fact planned to put Adalyn in daycare, we would have had to sign up approximately 2 years before we got married in order to ensure her spot. That’s right people, it’s a baby-eat-baby waitlisting world out there, and though we currently have escaped this for infant care, little did we realize that we are most likely already way behind the ball for preschool.  Apparently, preschool is harder to get into than Yale, and if we cared about our child’s education at all, we should have put Adalyn on a preschool waiting list Yesterday. Baby Center, for example, talks about researching this thoroughly in our community and perhaps writing a letter to get into “th...

It’s 8:45 pm; Adalyn has usually dozed off while Sheaff rocks her to sleep.  But tonight, he is making faces at her, and she cannot stop giggling.  The squealing, belly-deep, gives-you-the-hiccups kind of giggles.  The kind that makes me grateful. The kind that makes the timing of bedtime much less important, because I know this is one of those snapshots to remember. The clear sound of her laughing across the room puts this bright yellow, sparkling frame around our house, and the pieces that have been blurry all day suddenly click into place. There is too much that I want to say about Adalyn.  The funny things she does, the sweet things, the scary things.  Sometimes, I don’t know where to start. When I compare my thoughts with what everyone has going on, they seem incredibly insignificant. When I compare them with what else I have going on, they are huge. I have so much and so little to record all at once, fragments of thoughts floating around in my brain t...