Today’s a bit all over the show. Thursday is fun like that.
Yesterday Mika got weighed at her 9 week check up and she has gained 200grams a week since her last weigh in! Miss piggy. She is officially 4.85 kilos. (Not looking too happy about it here)
She’s so cute when she cries eh. Oh and last night she slept for 8 hours. It would have been wonderful if my silly boobs didn’t wake me up at 5am, aching and full with milk. I couldn’t get back to sleep so I got up and hovered over Mika’s cot begging for her to wake up. Can’t win!
I’m curious as to what kind of people read our blog. I can tell a lot about a person by what they chose to eat for breakfast… so please do me a favour and tell me what you usually have for breakfast…
Do you love New York? Or do you feel relatively neutral about New York? This hilarious book explains why New York is cool, but not so cool that we should heart it as much as we do.
From the book (cause it’s so funny I just had to share it with you)
Have you ever stood atop the Empire State Building—the absolute highest point on Earth—gazing across all of Manhattan in the fading sunlight, pondering what brought you here and where you’re going, realizing that this is probably the closest you’ll ever be to heaven? Have you ever done that? Neither have we.
But we do have to admit that it’s really neat that this is the tallest building in the world. Really. The tallest in the world? That’s a big deal. You put your mind on something and you nailed it, New York. Absolutely nailed it. And ain’t nobody taking that away from you. Congratulations on this. So let’s just move on to the next . . .
It’s not the what? Not the tallest anything? So, wait . . . when was it beaten . . . in 1954? By the Griffin Television Tower, in Oklahoma? So, you’re saying that New York has had a relatively tall building for the last fifty years? Huh.
This. Is. Awkward.
Okay. Tell you what: The Empire State Building definitely seems to be taller than everything in its general vicinity. So as long as nobody’s putting up any supertall Starbucks or giant Walgreens on 5th Avenue anytime soon, your secret’s safe with us, E. S. Building.
PROS: Very tall. Crazy tall. Almost too tall.
CONS: Not tall enough.
CONCLUSION: (Uncomfortable smile)
This is hot. Men should carry their babies, always. I found it on Carrie’s Pinterest.
Also, I love the idea of living on a houseboat one day.
Tomorrow I’m gonna share what I’ve been cooking all week since my Dad (our usual chef) is in Canada (with my Mum) visiting family. It’s been kinda cool having to think of what to cook each night like we used to before we moved back home. I love planning the week’s meals, doing the grocery shop, cooking each night… it’s so therapeutic and makes me feel good about our money and our health!
Enjoy the rest of your Thursday
(and a couple more cause she’s extra cute this week)
(You have been warned).
Ivan and I have a little sleep system that tries to maximise sleep time for both of us. I feed the bug at about 8pm and then I scoot downstairs and try to sleep while Ivan stays upstairs with the bug and tries to keep her asleep until midnight. At midnight he brings her down and wakes me to take ‘the night shift’. On a brilliant night, she will feed and burp and change and I’ll put her down again at 1am and won’t hear from her again until 5 or 6am (once it was 7am!). On an average night she will go down again at 1am and then wake every 2 hours. On an awful night she will wake every 45 minutes or so.
The annoying thing for me is that it takes me SO LONG to get to sleep at 8pm that usually I’ve only managed to steal about an hour or less by the time I’m woken at midnight. I lie in bed, listening to everything and anything that will stop me from sleeping.
And often, in my extremely sleep deprived state, with burning eyes and pounding headache – I come up with some pretty weird thoughts that sound so prolific to me, that I want to run upstairs and tell Ivan immediately. I do however, talk myself into staying in bed and soon drift into my short stay in sleepland.
In the morning, my prolific thoughts are never quite as prolific. My funny thoughts are never quite as funny. And my ideas aren’t so multi-million dollar after all. But on this one occasion, I had a fun thought that got a little crazy and I did end up telling Ivan all about it and here it is:
The Friendship Hand.
I remember reading somewhere that you should only ever really have ‘a handful’ of really good friends. I’m talking really really good. The kinds of friends who you can sit in silence with and ‘have fun’. The kinds of friends who can finish your sentences and read your mind (really). The kinds of friends who you would fly half way around the world for to be at their wedding. The kinds of friends who are there for the best moments and also who have seen you at your worst and still loved you. The kinds of friends who you really laugh with.
So taking this ‘handful’ term a bit further, I began exploring my different friendships and tried to place different friends as different phalanges on my right hand. This is harder than it sounds. A ‘thumb’ friend, for example, is what makes us human and separates us from apes. Without the thumb friend we would not be able to function as easily as we do. I actually found this an easy phalange to cast. Who is your thumb friend?
My biggest dilemma was actually between my index finger and middle finger. The middle finger is taller (obviously) and so perhaps the middle friend is ‘at the centre’ of my life? Or is he/she just really tall? Or is he/she what balances me, makes me look good (we would look strange with no middle finger) or stands up for me/tells me what is best? The index finger, on the other hand is shorter and is a lot closer to the thumb. The thumb and index work together to make my life wonderful, so perhaps these two friends are also friends with each other? The index finger goes everywhere with me and is often there when the middle finger is not. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?? Who are your index and middle friends?
And the ring finger! Just barely hanging on and not up to much at all EXCEPT when it really counts. Got a ring? Put it on the ring finger. The ring friend is THERE for me. It doesn’t matter if we don’t talk for a while, the ring friend is pretty damn reliable. I also think the ring finger would be some pretty interesting conversation. The kinda finger (friend) who would be up for a lot of wine and late night talks. Who is your ring friend?
Little pinky is extremely enjoyable. It’s just that often he/she is not there at all. Sometimes when drinks are being had, little pinky is nowhere to be seen. But he/she is always there. The pinky friend is that friend who I sometimes forget about momentarily. Probably not living in the same city as me, but when I remember that this friend is there I feel wonderful. Because when we are reunited, it will fit so perfectly it will be just like we were never parted. Who is your pinky friend?
So folks, on that note – I promise to never write something as lame as this ever again. Unless I happen to have another prolific thought that Ivan fails to veto. Shame on you Ivan.
Oh and if you are so kind as to do the ‘two clicks’ for us to move up the ranks in ‘top baby blogs’ that would be awesome.
After reading Freakonomics by Steven Levitt & Stephen J. Dubner I was amazed on how much information they could determine based solely on numbers and statistics.
This morning, my father-in-law sent me a link to a NY times article studying artificial intelligence & statistical patterns in the popular game rock-paper-scissors. According to the study, a true random game of rock-paper-scissors will result in a statistical tie with each player winning one third of the time. However people don’t make random decisions and they can be studied, analyzed and exploited.
Here’s my results below. Try it for yourself and let me know how it goes.