Bon appétit, bébé!

So it's not quite as delicious as our store brand Crisped Rice Cereal, but Abby seems to love the new baby rice cereal adventure we've taken her on this week. She's slowly but surely learning that the spoon has something yummy on it, and that it's not just another toy to chew on. These rice flakes must be pretty good, because she lunges forward pretty deliberately to get at the spoon when it comes toward her face. She hasn't made too big a mess so far, but she does have a tendency to blow mouthfuls of rice mush at us if dinnertime gets too exciting. Which it often does. It's hard not to crack up when someone this cute smiles at you with a face covered in baby cereal. Next stop...vegetables!

Thanks for the hat, Marissa!

I'm starting to realize something about our new home. It gets cold here. Real cold. And it stays that way.

It was 7 degrees outside when we woke up yesterday. That's right, single digit: seven degrees. The condensation that formed on Abby's windows has been frozen solid for the past four days, completely obscuring our view of the snow-covered golf course behind us.

We've all got opinions on the weather here in the Fisher household, ranging from Justin's "Okay, maybe I do need a winter coat" to Christina's "This weather sure does make those Ugg boots more attractive." Even Abby seems to have something to say about it, and although she lacks the words to effectively communicate at the moment, her face when we bundled her up for church said it all: "If it's so cold outside that I have to wear this hat, then why are we going outside after all?"

Don't worry Abby...the neighbors tell us we've only got two months of freezing weather left before Spring hits.

Peek-a-box

QUESTION:
What do you get when you combine one empty box of diapers, one patient baby, and one fun dad?


ANSWER:
A little game we like to call...Peek-a-box.

Please...no more paparazzi

While the sky let loose about four inches of snow on our neck of the woods yesterday, Abby and I stayed inside where it was warm, and she only put up a little bit of protest to my efforts at taking her picture in her fuzzy pink winter jammies.

Meanwhile, this southern girl is still getting used to the fact that winter weather advisories actually mean something up here in Virginia. When they say "chance of snow" here, they mean serious business. Thankfully, snowplowing is actually something people are employed to do where we live, since, unlike in Georgia, life doesn't come screeching to a halt when the first flake hits the road. I must say, there's something delightfully winter-y about seeing this kind of view from our front door. I guess next year Abby and I will have to go shopping for some cute pink snow boots. (And maybe we'll get her a pair, too.)

Learning to spell

It's official. Abby's the smartest four-and-a-half month old in the whole world. How do I know? Because she can spell her name. The evidence is right here in this video, as she knocks down these beautiful letters my friend made for her in the correct order, every time (with only a little help from dad). Oh, and the laughing? That's because she gets a huge kick out of knowing she's so much smarter than the rest of us.

That's not where I usually put my groceries

So just why are my groceries strewn about on the floor like that?

I have discovered something that has the potential to revolutionize the way I do grocery shopping. I'd never heard of this until we moved up north, but apparently it is quite common here. In fact, I've passed by trucks advertising this new wave of grocery shopping almost daily and did not, until recently, understand their significance. So why are my groceries on the floor?

1. I did not bring them inside.
2. I did not drive them home.
3. I did not stand in line to pay for them.
4. I did not meander up and down 16 aisles to find them.

I have discovered online grocery shopping. And I think I love it. I log on to the website of my grocery store of choice, type my list into their search engine, and viola! The website brings up every option I would otherwise be looking at on the shelf and allows me to click on my choice of bread, produce, canned goods and more. In just 20 minutes, I had completed my grocery shopping. In my pajamas. At 10 p.m.

But this service is not without its costs. The $50 minimum order, for one. But, since I spend an average of $50 a week on groceries anyway, this may not prove to be a problem. Then there's the $7 delivery charge, and the four-hour window during which I have to be home to receive my groceries. But when I weigh that against the cost of having to haul Abby in and out of the car in this frigid weather, it may turn out to be a convenience that is worth $7 to me. Perhaps not every week, but I can definitly see using this service again in the future.

I've gone over the ways I can justify using this service, and have come up with the following:

The economical argument: Shopping online not only allows me to comparison shop and purchase the least expensive option much more easily (Clark Howard would be proud), but not wandering up and down every aisle and instead having to search for specific items on my list by name eradicates any chance of "bonus" items appearing in my buggy, and thus in my budget. (Did I really need that Starbucks Ice Cream?)

The environmental argument: Having my groceries delivered to my door keeps my gas-guzzling SUV off the roads, and probably helps out global warming or the hole in the ozone somehow. Therefore, online grocery shopping makes me more popular with my tree-hugging friends.

The domestic policy argument: Staying home and paying to have my groceries delivered creates jobs. Someone has to walk through the store in my stead and pick out my food; someone has to load the truck; someone has to drive the truck. My online grocery shopping is good for the U.S. economy.

The domestic engineering argument: While hubby is off at work, it is left to me to manage and maintain this household and our daughter. Shopping online frees up time that can be devoted to other wifely duties, such as laundry, cleaning or blogging.

The mommy argument: By the time I get myself ready, make my list, get Abby ready, warm the car, change Abby's diaper, get her dressed again, find my list, find my purse, strap Abby into her car seat and get on the road, a half an hour has elapsed, and I'm not even at the store yet. Upon arriving I must: find a spot near the buggy return so I can minimize the time Abby is exposed to the cold while I transfer her from the car to the cart, settle her down since she's being awakened in the middle of her nap for this excursion, navigate a buggy whose front wheels I cannot see over the carseat through the aisles and around boxes of new products that have not found their way from the floor to the shelves yet. Once I've found (almost) everything on my list and have backtracked countless times across the store, I have to stand in line behind all the other moms for whom afternoon naptime is the best time to run errands. Now put Abby back in the car, load the groceries, return home, bring in only those items that would otherwise be ruined by an extended stay in the back of the Blazer, and leave the remaining groceries in the car where they will sit until Justin gets home from work. Because it's time for Abby to eat again, and she's crying, and I have other things to do.

I'll have to try it out a couple of times before I'm convinced, but it's looking like online grocery shopping may become on of my new loves.