Prison

Back when we were deciding on a Halloween costume, we considered going as two inmates and a prison warden.  It's a standing joke in our household that we are in prison around here.  After all, the best way I can describe parenthood to non-parents is that you lose your freedom.  You eat when the baby let's you eat, you sleep (or not) when the baby let's you sleep, and you pretty much don't leave the house for three months for fear of either a crying meltdown or that your perfect baby will catch pertussis.  Leah was our little dictator - our Mussolini (since she's 1/8th Italian, the nickname fit).  She told us what we could do, and when we could do it.

Now at 4 months, we've changed our tune.  Yesterday we ventured out, Leah and stroller in tow, for lunch.  LUNCH, people!  It was glorious.  And that's not the first time.  Last week we were brave enough to drive to Beverly Hills (I wanted to get a picture of Peanut next to the classic brown sign since that's where she was born).  Here's some photos from that day.

Our best attempts at the sign shot...

Yes, my eyes are closed.

 

I want to re-do the sign pictures because it was hard to get a good angle without a photographer who didn't have to also be in the picture.  Mom and Haley, you may have to stand in as official photographer when you come to visit.

And some more pictures from the park...

 

Getting artsy.

Leah's stylin' hoodie outfit is courtesy of her Nana. 

Update: Not so fast.  I spoke too soon.  This very evening, Mussolini decided that she no longer wanted to sleep in her crib and would prefer the swing (that's the ONLY thing she seems to prefer tonight - we know this because she's finally stopped screaming at us).  So BA and I are camped out in her room, watching the news on our 15 year old guest television, while she has taken over the completely darkened living room.  The past few days have been pretty difficult, with Leah refusing to calm down for hours, sleeping only 1 hour at a time in her crib before she wakes up screaming for her pacifier, and spitting up almost all of her feedings at night.  She literally cried herself hoarse after only 25 minutes of "crying-it-out" Saturday night.  We gave in and picked her up before she completely lost her voice.  She's been hoarse the past two days from that.  This all started because we are currently trying to get her off her sleeping wedge and start sleeping flat, but so far she HATES this idea.  And now we are at a complete loss as to how we are going to get her to sleep peacefully in her crib for longer than 1 hour at a time.  Prison is fun!