Christmas was a delicious assortment of pumpkin roll, cinnamon oatmeal cookies, Honeybaked Ham, and poppy seed bread, combined with a oodles of crumpled wrapping paper and time spent with family. Naturally, Baby B enjoyed crumpling wrapping paper far more than the diverse array of sprinkled confections that I enjoyed.
I don't know if I ever disclosed my theory to you, Internet, but besides the fact that six months of exclusive breastfeeding is recommended by the APA, I also continued to nurse right on through Baby B's six month because it meant that I could selfishly indulge in the many holiday treats that present themselves during the month of December. I mean, he is the best diet that ever happened to me. How else can you enjoy homemade, chocolate-drizzled marshmallows and not gain an ounce? I'll tell you how: dedicate yourself to the nourishment of another human being. I'm sorry if you get sick of my relentless blogging about breastfeeding, but I just couldn't be happier with its results.
Anyway, our house is, like, totally out of control right now. There is just all this stuff. Everywhere. It was super clean when the neighbors came over on Christmas night, and now it's just chaos again. Sigh. Fortunately, life can go on when your house is a wreck, even if you can't walk through your living room without pole vaulting over the latest over-sized baby occupier. Seriously, this thing is three feet tall and equally as wide. I have no idea where we will store this behemoth, but it is pretty hilarious to watch Baby B bounce around in it and he loves it with all his precious little heart.
And he does have a precious little heart.
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