Rachel decided to play sherrif. What that means for me is "getting rested" (arrested). Except this time, because I was on the phone, I got handcuffed. To the chair. Then left so she could go get her "wight sabor" from Tar Wors. Perfect.

I think it's funny that she actually reacts to my question, "Where's your socks?" by looking down like, "Gee, I don't know?!"

We have a morning ritual that involves Rachel laying on my stomach (tummy time!) and talking to me. She usually gets excited, yells and shoves her hands in her mouth (hey, to each their own I guess). Anyway, this morning we were chatting and she got excited except this time she stuck her fingers too far down her throat and well, you can guess what happened.

I'm just thankful my mouth wasn't open.

We had an emergency this morning that nearly killed us both...yes, it's true, we lost Rachel's pacifier. Now, we have nearly 10 others scattered throughout the house and you'd better believe I tried each of them. I tried feeding her, rocking her...anything I could think of. But no pacifier, no peace. FINALLY, I found it under her co-sleeper, wedged between her bed and the wall. Got it rinsed it "plugged it in" and ahhhh. She was asleep in about 2 minutes.

It's funny what happens when moms stop looking...