Sometimes I am a bit of a procrastinator. Ok, most times I'm a lot of a
procrastinator. I feel like that's
fairly normal given my strong Type B personality. I'm not a big scheduler. I kind of just roll with whatever and call it
good. Of course, Ellie's not a big fan
of me procrastinating around her. She is
extremely Type A or, you know, just a normal baby. When she wants food, she wants food. When she wants sleep, she wants sleep. When she wants a new diaper, she wants a new
diaper. When she's #MissingMommy, she is
#MissingMommy. Ok, my point is now made
effectively. As a result of Ellie's
strict schedule, I find myself willing to procrastinate in other areas of my
life. One such item that has been on the
list for at least a month is to get Ellie's birth certificate. Up until this point, we've been lacking one
of those for her. So I guess it's like
she doesn't even exist without it, right? ;)
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| Get it? It's a cat that's procrastinating? |
Obviously, in order for us to go get her birth certificate today, we had to begin the day according to Ellie's daily planner. It'd be much easier if she either wrote down her schedule or saved it in her hypothetical phone but alas, she does not. So that's where that strong Type B personality comes in handy. Once Ellie woke up from her morning nap around 11, I immediately broke out the bottle to give her some sweet morning sustenance. In the past, I've always preferred to change her first but Ellie has developed this nasty habit of urinating all over my hands and her changing pad following her morning nap. Somewhat understandably, I've been getting tired of the feeling of having my hands (not to mention Ellie), covered in urine. Just in case you're wondering, it doesn't really act as a moisturizer for my hands. Not to mention the smell's pretty hard to get rid of.
Anyway, after Ellie got her fill, we headed to our room to
get her out of her pajamas and into some different clothes. On most days, Ellie just gets a simple onesie
and I call it good. Since today, we were
on a very important mission, I decided to make Ellie look nice. Digging into her three month clothes, I
discover a new onesie with pictures of fruit on it and a pair of baby blue
cargo pants. Once Ellie is dressed, I
take her downstairs all the while feeling pretty good about myself. Just to show off, I snap a quick photo of
Ellie and send it to Bethany. I eagerly
anticipate the reply of how cute Ellie looks today and how I did a great
job. My phone finally dings and I open
the text from Bethany and engage in conversation.
- "Lol what an outfit"
- "Is it bad?"
- "No just made me laugh. Are her pants too short or just the way she is laying?"
- "The way she's laying."
After that conversation, my excitement for getting Ellie
dressed faded. I realized that maybe it
wasn't the greatest choice of outfit in the world but also wasn't going to take
time to redress her. Type B personality
at play again. With the morning stuff
out of the way, Ellie and I successfully headed to the County Health Office, got
a clean, crisp copy of her birth certificate and headed home. I may not be the best fashionista in the
world, but at least I can accomplish getting a birth certificate. You know, once I decide to get around to
it.
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| Ellie is pulling this off! |
Oh yeah, in case you're wondering, fashionista is both the male and female version of the term. #DaddyWrite
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