I’m not even sure what I used to write about for Small Style. Was it fashion tips for toddlers? Was it deriding the fact that my child is the world’s worst sleeper? Was it a romping account of some minor molehill of an incident that I mountainized until drama was seeping out it’s ears?
Ummm, probably all three. But. Lately there has been relatively little drama. No vom-a-thons. No up-all-night-all-you-can-scream buffets of misery. Although there was that time the other day wherein my lovely daughter stayed up two-and-a-half hours past her bedtime, which, because of my new morning routine, is about two hours past MY bedtime. However, she made up for that transgression by finally falling asleep in my bed (after me, I might add) and staying there all night. So, not only did I get little trip down co-sleeping memory lane (I’ve been rejected big time in the co-sleeping department since Stella developed a will of her own at around 10 months), but I also got a lovely, cosy all-night-sleep buffet with a cuddly baby while I imagined that she was snuggling me and didn’t think that sleeping in my bed was totally lame. Mr. Chef, however, convinced that Stella would wake any moment and need some baby ninja action, slept in her room all night on a tiny cot and did not benefit from this sleep coup. Anyway. Most boring story of all time.
I took Stella on a coffee date on Monday with a real-life friend. Whom I made through my blog. And, of course, she was the perfect baby. For all my winging about her not sleeping and not playing by herself, she is a model child when we go out in public. Not a peep. Not a whine. Not a tantrum. She’s all, “please” and “thank you” and “yes ma’m” and “here, let me hold that door for you,” and “allow me to wipe your table.”
Serious. She’s like this all the time when we’re out. It’s okay to hate me.
Also, it’s December. And there was sun. So we played in the leaves. Well, when I say “we”, I mean my friend and Stella. I’m not a big fan of dirt. And stuff.
I have noting to move on to. So, here’s a random, poorly executed picnik collage. Feast ye eyes.
Shirt - Crew Cuts
Jeans - Baby Gap
Cardi - American Apparel
Shoes - Converse
Jacket - Gifted from Switzerland. So it’s the warmest.