the wishes that already came true...

Oddly enough, it came to me while I was cleaning chicken. I was standing at the counter beside the sink, Creedence on the ipod and my hands wrist deep in unacceptable poultry pieces when it hit me--- no, thankfully it wasn't a chunk of that white clumpy stuff --- it was a realization.

small talk sucks

I'm now a small-talker. I guess. Or is it considered "small talk" when you are conversing about someone's child? I'm not entirely sure. Regardless, I am now one of those people who talk to strangers. No, don't make the mistake, I'm not a friendly person... just a small-talker.

It's been slowly building up over the past year. When I was pregnant random people felt the need to know my due date, the sex of the baby, the name of the baby, what hospital I would be delivering at and so on. When I started bringing Scarlett on errands we would be, at times, the center of attention. Elderly ladies are especially interested in who's in the baby carrier. Lots of peeks, smiles, waves and friendly oohs and ahhs would ensue. It's actually a pretty great feeling to know that these complete strangers are in awe of the little person that you helped to create. But as of today I've reached a level I wasn't expecting to reach. I think it's called the my daughter is almost nine months old so ask me a shit-ton of questions and tell me everything you've done for your child who is slightly older stage. Or something like that.

I'm a stubborn bird

I'm just winging it.

Motherhood that is. I mean, of course I google things almost daily to see what the others are doing. Ya know, like 'what kind of sippy cup is best' for Scarlett's age and 'give me some damn finger food ideas because I'm already stumped'. But ultimately, no matter who I ask for opinions, no matter what articles I read, no matter what informative emails I receive -- from the hospital that will continue to bleed me dry until I'm in the ground -- I do what I want. I buy the sippy cup that's pretty and fits her age group and I break up pieces of whatever the hell I want and put them on her highchair tray. The best part? She's doing just great.