That’s how I’m feeling right now. Date night is good for the soul, I tell ya. We had a really good meal, good wine, ran into all kinds of old friends, and totally managed to avoid talking about Dash. I think the only time he came up was when other people asked about him. (Don’t worry little guy, it’s not like we forgot about you. Just having some much needed adult time/conversation.)

And it’s this good feeling that I’ve been holding on to and has kept me from getting totally pissed off at the 47 neighbors who have been out with leaf blowers all weekend long. Seriously people. How lazy are you? Unless you’re very old or physically cannot rake you do not need a leaf blower.* You need a rake. That’s all.

*unless of course you, my lovely readers, have a leaf blower. in that case, i applaud your efficiency.

Guess what. I have a date tomorrow night. A handsome man asked me out for dinner and a movie and I said Yes. Total score.

Considering this is our first date in something like nine months I probably don’t have to tell you how much I’m looking forward to it. Dash will be home with his Granny and Nana, well cared for, so Neil and I can have sexy grownup time. Did I just say that? Well, come on. You know what date night means. We’re all adults here.

Speaking of that…

Since we’re all adults and a lot of us have had kids, we all know that bodies kind of change after a pregnancy. Yes? Not just me? Thanks. So even though I’m back in my old jeans and feeling pretty good about my waistline, I still decided to go out and buy some Spanx (or the Target version of Spanx cuz I’m cheap). Essentially, I want everything in its place and nothing in particular sticking out. Not unreasonable, I think.

So I bring home a size small (small, YAY! and also, FORESHADOWING!) and bring it upstairs to try on with my chosen date dress. A dress that still has the tags on it, hanging all lonely in the closet, waiting for my body to return to me so it can be worn. It’s your lucky day, dress! I’m coming for you.

You know,this probably won’t be all that funny to anyone who’s worn these before, but imagine my surprise and amusement when I opened the box and found this little number:

What’s that, you say? You don’t think this photo adequately shows my point? You don’t see how ridiculously tiny this body shaper actually is?

Let’s try a little experiment.

Here is the very same body shaper snuggling up with a favorite pair of Dashiell’s pants.

Size 3-6month INFANT pants. Size small ADULT body shaper.

So the body shaper is longer, but its waist is most definitely smaller than that of the infant pants. Fascinating!

Anyway, if you see me out on the town tomorrow night with a big smile on my face, man on my arm, and the waist of a nine-month-old, say Hello.

You know it’s November and I just realized that I never shared my new beautiful incredible wonderful pantry that I’d been begging Neil for ever since we moved in. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that my life has completely changed.

Quick reminder for you what the “pantry” looked like before.

And now…

The new and improved pantry. Keep in mind the limited photography skills and the very dark day we’re having here right now.

“Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me…” Courtesy of Neil and Home Depot, I no longer have to look at a counter full of random food. That’s right. I can now pile other random crap there any old time I want to. And I do.

[if i told you how many times i just typed ‘panty’ instead of ‘pantry’ you would laugh heartily.]

This seems like a good time to share with you the crazy organizational kick I’m on right now. Label label label. Watch out for I will label you with my label maker if you get in my way.

I don’t know. Maybe I thought I might look at this jar someday and wonder just what those oat-like things are? You can never be too safe. Or too dorky.

A truer label was never created.

I know, I know. Halloween is over. But I couldn’t pass up sharing the little prince with you all.

I’ve just put up some photos of the studio taken before it goes through its miraculous transformation. Five gray walls, one red wall (yes, there really are six walls), one walk-in closet with the door put on backwards, four windows in need of replacement, one ceiling fan that’s seen its last revolution, and a tiny red mystery door. I hope to have some new pictures to share on Monday. New meaning “showing progress.”

I guess I accidently skipped out on doing the obligatory Halloween post. It wasn’t intentional, really. That morning, we went in town and spent some time in a cafe, intending to write while Dash slept. Naturally, Dash woke up almost immediately, and since he doesn’t enjoy sitting in his car seat, that means at least one of us wasn’t going to be writing. Neil volunteered (he’s a whole lot more prolific than I am anyway so that seems fair) and I got to writing. After taking a few pictures, that is.

Rasta baby.

You mean it’s not real?

Shocking!

There’s my boy.

Me in disguise.

Then back to writing. I suddenly noticed the wireless meter going down, down, down, up, up, dowwwwwn. The friendly barista with devil horns told me that in fact they don’t have wireless since they think it takes away from the community feeling within the shop. I guess I was hijacking someone elses the whole time. Oh well. We packed up and moved on since I hate community. Kidding, but I did need wireless.

The rest of our day was filled with exploring the town, finally buying my birthday sewing machine, and seeing a gorilla ride down the street on his bike. You know, the usual.

Happy Friday everyone. Have a great weekend! If you’re free, come on by and help me paint. Seriously. I have beer and I know a really good pizza place.