a day in the life.

I am a nanny. Four days out of the week I'm making PB&J sandwiches, leading Waldorf based educational activities, finding lost lovies, and reading the entire collection of Disney Princess books more times than any sane person should. I answer to "Meemo" and Henry is know as "Haaay-reeee", "Baby Henry", and "Haaay! Stop cry'an!"

Our situation is perfect here. I love these kids, work with the nicest family, I don't have to put Henry in daycare, and he basically has two older siblings and a couple puppies to play with.

I accidentally snapped this picture the other day and holy crap is it perfect representation of Haaay-reee's relationship with little f and little r. Hahaha, poor kid (Not really. Get used to it baby. Some day you're going to have siblings!) He really loves both of them more than words (Get it? He can't talk yet? Ahhhaha) but let's just say the love he gets in return can sometimes be a little...overbearing. Can you blame them though? Just look at those chubby cheeks and that huggable little body!

Lately we've been chanting, "Babies need their baby space, stay out of a baby's face!" Thanks Yo Gabba Gabba. You know, as much as I am trying not to like you you just keep being freaking awesome and I'm kind of falling in love.


On a sorta related note: This is what my last weekend looked like. What are those big wet marks, you ask? Oh, just POOP STAINS. Little r decided that it would be awesome to use the couch as a trampoline right after he had completely filled his diaper. With runny poop. Don't know how I missed it exactly, but apparently every time he would land poop would explode all over the place.

Although I Stanley Steamered every inch of that couch, thinking about sitting on it still grosses me out. Oh, poor poop couch! You're going to be so lonely from here on out!