These Little Debbie pies. Okay, so I know that Oatmeal Creme Pies don’t have the sophistication of biscotti, or the flash of those iced sugar cookies at every grocery store, or the universal appeal of the chocolate chip cookie. But these pies are so good. I was re-introduced to these delicious palm-sized culinary treats through a visit to a nursing home. Before I knew it, I was buying what was called the “Big Pack” from my local Ingles, and enjoying one during my 4:00 am nursing. I don’t even blame myself because hello…oatmeal.
This Teen Vogue column written by Lauren Duca. I don’t read this column every week, but I should; it’s that good. I don’t need anyone to remind me to be angry by this Administration, but I do need someone to remind me that I should do something about it. As I’d feared, my willingness to do something about all of the things infuriating me took a pretty big nosedive at some point embarrassingly early this year. Duca writes: “We’re all too angry but nothing will change if we don’t find a way to convert that energy into action. The future of democracy depends on it.” Here’s to doing better now.
This magical, life-giving coffee. If the word Christmas is in the name of a product, I’m in. Christmas cookies? In. Christmas candy? In. Starbucks Christmas Coffee? Was there ever any doubt? (I just realized that all of these products are foods. No matter--my original point stands.) I’ve been having one cup of coffee a day, and it’s been so sweet to have part of my morning routine back.
This breastfeeding cover. So I'm not linking to a specific product here, but I just want to wax poetic about my ability to breastfeed my son this time around, instead of having to pump exclusively and supplement with formula, as I had to do with Sam. In the corresponding pic, I had just finished changing a diaper blowout and then nursed my piglet baby in the front seat of the car--while parked in a Car Max parking lot-- which made me feel as close to a rock star mom as I'll likely ever feel. I have had an extraordinary feeling of pride this time that my efforts are paying off in big ways; Raymond has rolls and multiple chins, and it's all (okay, just a little) due to those aforementioned Oatmeal Cream Pies.
This movie. We bought The Lion King as one of the boys’ Christmas presents, and you all, it is so good! So far I’ve only listened to snippets on the drive home from Christmas outings, but let me tell you, it still packs an emotional wallop. Mufasa was the best dad. In a move of uncharacteristic restraint, I’ve also avoided singing the lyrics to the amazing songs in The Lion King, despite the fact that I had the soundtrack tape when I was younger and listened to it on repeat. You’re welcome, Daniel.
Baby clothes. Is there any object cuter than a baby outfit? They’re so tiny and perfect, and the best part of the baby peeing and pooping through his clothes is that you get to see multiple adorable outfits in one day. (But can I get an amen about how ridiculously long it takes to fold a big load of just baby clothes?)