It's all men over here in the Mission suburbs. Baleen got the call on Friday that she was needed in Istanbul this week and that she'd have to leave on Sunday. So we're back to eating pasta from the pan and tiny spoonfulls of plum and applesauce instead of spinach and cauliflower. Then there's grasshopper pie from Mitchell's. Don't tell Baleen.
We also get to pick our own outfits each day which hasn't been a problem for me now that Baleen has directed her attention down to my ankles, not to the shoes I wear, but to our little son (almost) crawling around the floor down there.
It's hot here in the city, I'm talking 90 degrees outside the apartment and 80 degrees inside hot, so we're wearing next to nothing around here, just a simple white onesie. And at night, when I tuck little TDB into the sleep sack, we're really wearing nothing, just a diaper to catch anything if TDB decides to let loose during the night.
We also get to pick our own outfits each day which hasn't been a problem for me now that Baleen has directed her attention down to my ankles, not to the shoes I wear, but to our little son (almost) crawling around the floor down there.
It's hot here in the city, I'm talking 90 degrees outside the apartment and 80 degrees inside hot, so we're wearing next to nothing around here, just a simple white onesie. And at night, when I tuck little TDB into the sleep sack, we're really wearing nothing, just a diaper to catch anything if TDB decides to let loose during the night.
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