Given the name of this blog, you might think I'd entice you with umpty million photos of my gorgeous, cooing baby grinning his gummy, slightly out-of-focus smile.
Alas, we're going with "pretty" as in "pretty realistic" on today's entry, which memorializes Grand Master P's making it to one month old. We'll have none of that suspiciously cheerful Anne Geddes, posies-and-unicorns-and-fluffy-babies-that-don't-poop, uh, poop here. Rather, I'll let you see for yourselves what a bona-fide 4-week-old new human probably looks like for most, if not all, of a photo shoot:
Nary a cutesy bunny outfit or angelic expression to be found that day - just a real, live baby, purveyor of the funnest, tiredest, longest, fastest, difficultest, weirdest, bestest, strangest month of my Pretty life. No unicorns required.*
(*OK, not entirely true - if you find the one-horned mythical beast who will allow me to lose these last 10 pounds and take the occasional 4:30 am Milk Bar shift, I'd be thrilled - even suspiciously, Anne Geddes sinister-bunny-babies-level so.)
I admit it.
This here blog began as a frothy devotional to my own vanity concoction about my current obsession du jour - mostly fashion, with some travel and new-kid-in-town blather about this Californian's move to Texas mixed in - and has veered dangerously towards being a ... a ... well, I may as well just say it:
Mommy blog.
Gaaah. I can fuss and moan and bang my (delicately featured) Pretty head against the keyboard, denying my blog morphage all the live long day, but there you have it. Life changed irrevocably once Grand Master P made his appearance some 3 plus weeks ago, and to fight the change here would prove yet another area in which I need to let go and just ... I dunno. See the title of this post.
I'm a mommy blogger. There. And one who has taken much time off from ye olde interwebs to figure out this entire baby thing, which is admittedly wildly more difficult and fun and challenging and rewarding and weird than I'd anticipated. It doesn't mean I've given up the Good Life quite yet for a life of wearing Crocs or other sartorial horrors, but ...
A mommy blogger who had, despite all warnings to the contrary, secretly envisioned a cheerfully slumbering newborn who compliantly slept, smiled, and cooed on command as I recommenced going about my pre-pregnancy business, smugly congratulating myself on a job easily and well done.
(*Pause inserted to allow sufficient laughter*)
A mommy blogger who has quickly put together that, to bogart a bit from the SATs, new babies - or mine, at least - are to compliant schedules as Lind*say Lohan is to law enforcment. That is to say, a laughable, if not entirely fictitious, mix at best. My schedule, my prior life - all wonderful stuff, but all on hold for now.
So I surrender - peacefully, happily, willingly, at last. Surrender to the new blog direction - if not permanently, for the foreseeable future. Surrender to the simultaneously difficult and awesome, slowly unfolding little package that is Grand Master P.
(Not to worry - strictly fun, non-pontificating photos to come shortly. Pinky swear.)
