Crow Pie, Crow Stew, Crow Flambe...

Ok, ok. So I was wr...I was wrrrrrr...I was wrrrrrrrrrooooong.

Yes, back before Brynn made her appearance I foolishly thought I would somehow fly through motherhood without once uttering a single word in babyspeak. You know, the cutesy wootsy, "Hewo my baby waby. How's my woogy shmoogy doing dis mornin'?" kind of thing. Yeah, well although things haven't degenerated to THOSE mind numbing levels (and by the Gods, I will do my best to ensure they don't) I have discovered that it is almost a biological impossibility to completely resist the lure of babyspeak when you're looking in the big blue eyes of your ridiculously cute progeny. In fact, I have a clear memory of laughing my ass off one night very soon after Scott and I brought Brynn home when I realized we were talking about her bio breaks in terms of "poops and peeps". Egad! Is this what we have been reduced to? Chatting merrily amongst ourselves about our daughter's diaper useage and using babyspeak to do it?

Apparently so.

And you know what? This kid has me so wrapped around her little finger that I couldn't even care less. Quite frankly my dears, I don't give a poop or a peep what anyone thinks.

Ooh Baby Baby!

Hello everyone. No, just in case you were wondering, I haven't died, moved to Bora Bora, or joined the Peace Corps. Nope...my excuse for an overly long absence from Bloggerville is that I've immersed myself in motherhood - stress, craziness, and awesomeness galore. These days, my life revolves around a burping, farting little princess who seems intent on keeping the CEO of Pampers in good stead with their shareholders and I couldn't be happier.

I'm off to bed but I'm already planning my next post.