The end of Supermom.

Uncle. I've caved. Now that Owen has started going to daycare, and the process of me going to work no longer involves waiting for the babysitter to show up (and OH MY GOD, seriously? The amount of things that need to be packed up, organized and cleaned/labeled for one day of daycare is mind boggling) I have given up on making Owen's baby food. I talked a pretty good game there for awhile, what with the hippie food introduction charts (amaranth is the perfect first grain!) and the ice cube trays and the copies of "wholesome baby food" and "super baby food" I checked out from the library. None of that processed junk for us, no sir.

Well, yeah, whatever. Cut to me throwing those overpriced little jars into the cart at 10 pm with wild abandon. Because I'm too busy to feed myself these days, so you can forget about making baby guacamole. What's more, the weaning process is beginning. Owen's going to start getting (horrors!) formula. This is a big step, as I've been a bit of a breast feeding....enthusiast. (some, less charitable people might say "maniac". ) Formula and jarred baby food! My god. Why don't I just throw some lunchables and cheez whiz in the blender and feed him that? We are still cloth diapering, but frankly, that has a lot less to do with any earth-mama street cred and a lot more to do with the fact that we actually can't afford disposable diapers. (thanks to our shady mortgage broker, but that's a story for a different day). The advent of solid food has - how to put it delicately? - worn the novelty right off our cloth diapers.

I do, however, reserve the right to continue wearing my "super mom" pajamas.

I have some pictures (including one of the aforementioned pajamas) but they're not loading for some reason. I'll put them up tomorrow.

Owen is six months old next week. I can't believe it.