On the other hand, I don't want this to become one of those blogs where it's all, "Dear Diary, I picked my nose today. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and I am breathing in a steady in-out pattern. I think I will go eat something now." So I will endeavour not to bore you all if I can possibly help it.
That being said, brace yourself for a dose of mundanity: I just came back from having my hair cut (well, trimmed) and my brows waxed.
I never waxed my brows until a couple of years ago, but now I am sadly addicted to the process. Or rather, addicted to the results, which mostly involve not looking like Daniel Radcliffe. The process, she is not so much of the fun. Especially since, as my hairdresser informed me today, I have coarse, deep-rooted hair in my brows, and very fair (read: cadaverous) skin, so after she's done waxing it looks like I slathered on bright pink eyeshadow Tammy-Faye Bakker style for about half an hour afterward. Still, it beats plucking, mostly because I am both lazy and a wimp, and therefore would prefer to have somebody else do the work and do it as quickly as possible, kthxbai.
Anyway, I feel pretty now (she said, with a flounce and a toss of her slightly greying curls).
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In other news, Paul is finally old enough for the Jolly Jumper, although he's still not quite sure how he feels about this bouncing thing, and the little rings so cleverly attached to the straps on either side of the bouncer's tray show a disturbing tendency to poke him in the eye. Apparently they are there so you can attach toys to them, although I am not quite sure what kind of toys come with clips that would be compatible with these (solid plastic, no opening) rings. None that I have in the house, anyway.
He is also teething (though there's no sign of the actual tooth yet, just a lot of drooling and chewing and not-napping-properly), and he's starting to bite down when he nurses, which is No Fun At All. But even if he's having some discomfort, his disposition remains sunny, and he's still pretty easy to please.
So this is what it's like to have a "good baby". I always did wonder.