Happy Birthday, Emmett!

Oooh, JZ, that's the one we have--only in natural. Liv's just now finally to big for it because she's started pulling herself up on the side and peeking over when she wakes up. Which means it's time to lower the mattress in her crib, too.

She's now fully mobile with the crawling and stuff.

Cash, how old is Liv now? She's at least 4 or 5 months, isn't she? Hec was worried that the bassinet is so small it'll only hold the Halloweenie for a couple of months, but my impression from the website info was that it'd last a bit longer than that. Which, oh please oh please, because it'll be a nightmare fitting a full crib into our bedroom and we're so not ready to move anytime in the near future.

Just got in touch with a friend from when I was in Grad School out here. I'm off.

it'll be a nightmare fitting a full crib into our bedroom and we're so not ready to move anytime in the near future.

Liv's a Feb. model. So... umm...

That makes her over half a year old. 7 months? (Doesn't seem POSSIBLE.)

Also, your bedroom = WAY bigger than ours, and we were able to squeeze the crib in there until we could redo the floors in Lillian's room. It's doable.

Plei is right--she's just 7 months and just now too big for it. We used the co-sleeper exclusively for three months--hell, we didn't even put the crib together until she was four months. We've used it off and on for naps and travel since. Have you guys considered the Amby? I was sorely tempted to get one of those, but, Queen of Indecision that I am, just went with the same model of crib that we got for Owen.

Yay for JZ & Hec joining the dinner party!

My DH will be there, too. (Private prayer: Please let him find something on the menu he'll eat.) At the moment, he is watching BSG on DVD and keeps saying, "5 more minutes, then I'll shower." We may be late.

Also, your bedroom = WAY bigger than ours, and we were able to squeeze the crib in there until we could redo the floors in Lillian's room. It's doable.

I just don't see how it's doable, at least not without boxing up pretty much all the rest of our books and putting them into storage until the eventual move to the East Bay. My dad already has something like 10 boxes in his basement, we're making room for the bassinet by eliminating one of the two bookshelves in the bedroom, and it's still gonna be an unbearably tight squeeze.

Part of it is that, like a lot of SF apartments, this one has exactly three closets, two of them very small and narrow (living room, hallway, Emmett's room; wardrobe taking up floor space but no actual closet in the main bedroom). Between the wardrobe and the (nonfunctioning) fireplace, the amount of actual floor space in the bedroom is tiny, and there's no place else in the apt. for stuff to go. And we keep purging and purging, hauling bags and boxes of stuff to Goodwill, my dad's basement, Half Price Books, and the freecycle corner of the recycling center on our block, and it makes so little visible difference.

I can't actually think about it too much or I start to cry. Seriously. I love this place dearly but I hate how shittily it's been maintained, how little space there is and how much that little space has been carved into, and how little the owner has done to make it (or any other apt. in the building) functional and livable for anyone but a single adult.

• sigh* Aimee's in SF so now I'm bored.

Well, not bored. Chasing Emeline is time-consuming exercise that does take concentration. (Dude, thank you Title 9. Baby is gonna be a helluva running back. If she wants. No pressure. She could also kill for money, whatever makes her happy.)

Anyway, she now likes to pull DVDs out of the entertainment center and demand I play whatever "Moobie" she wants. Oddly, she has chosen none of the Kevin Smith DVDs.

Yesterday we watched some horrific Care Bears movie a "friend" gave to us for Emeline because said "friend" thought she might enjoy it. In actuality said "friend" is EVIL and just wanted to know that at some point I was balancing my child's happiness vs. the need to drive a steak knife into my own eyes.

But then, lo to my delight, Em chose "The Last Boy Scout" so my mind and soul were cleansed by an hour and a half of good, decent foul language and gratuitous violence involving Bruce Willis and Damon Wayans.

Today she chose "Batman Begins". I now have the urge to roam the rooftops of Los Angeles dressed in black body armor and fight crime or avenge the wronged or just generally kick the shit out of people that society-at-large accepts are worthy to have the shit kicked out of. Which is difficult because Aimee's in SF and Em's too big for the baby-sling-thing whatever it's called. Something Nordic.

Oh, great. She just handed me Eddie Izzard "Dressed to Kill".

My child is already so messed in the mind.

HI HONEY!