Baby Prison

We finally got Ari a little baby prison so I can clean (or, you know, blog about it) while she safely practices crawling. Here's a little pic of her chasing after her Sophie in it.

It's going to take some getting used to. She would just crawl up to the edge and scream. Then I got in the pen with her, completely ignored her, and just began playing with her toys and laughing hysterically. When I left, she seemed to be fine on her own. She's just old enough now that she should be able to play for a few minutes by herself without constantly having to be held! :)

Well, I am awesome.

So those of you who know me know that I'm a pretty modest person. I hate the low cut and tight fit of girl's shorts, so I buy boy shorts - from Target - the cargo ones.

Well, one of the main attractions of cargo shorts has become my demise.

It seems the pockets of cargo shorts are remarkably deep. I have lost many things in them before. I have found money buried deep in their recesses after looking for it (and washing my shorts) for weeks. And now, I have done it again. Only this time, the item being washed wasn't quite as resilient as cotton-based money.

Yes, my friends, you have guessed correctly. Not only was MY phone stolen a few weeks ago, but now JUSTIN'S phone (which he heroically left for me and the baby) has been obliterated in a mesh of hot water and detergent.

My mother joked recently that "if you want to get a hold of Amber, don't call her, just email." Well, now that could not be more true. So if I don't return your calls or answer them at all - you know why. I don't hate you. I just, apparently, hate having a phone.