And because my mom and I still squeal and giggle together over all things girly, we just couldn't resist the temptation to do this:
I'm fairly certain my (real) baby is whispering to the red-headed Cabbage Patch that her underwear is showing. Floozy.
It was also right after this little photo shoot that I caught my husband trying to put his head in the oven. He grew up in a house full of boys, so he finds our incessant giggling and fussing over chubby dolls from the 80's incomprehensible and also a little creepy.
But luckily the man-gods heard his faint cries from inside the oven and sent down snow, and therefore sledding, to restore the household's regular testosterone levels.
I took a turn down the "big kid" hill and wiped out badly enough that it scared the duckling. I was fine, but I guess no one likes to see their mom eat it on an icy hill, especially when she's dressed like this.
I required only two things to nurse my bruised ego (and bottom) back to health....more baby snuggling and homemade pizzas.
Luckily for me, my husband's homemade pizzas are a regular occurrence in these parts. I hope to get around to posting the recipes here soon.