Vidiot (Warning: slight grossness)

Have spent majority of free time (i.e. time not spent watching/feeding/changing/playing with baby) honing my skills at a PS2 game... third in a series. Ratchet & Clank, then R&C: Going Commando, and now R&C: Up your Arsenal.

Yes, yes, violent video games are of the devil, etc. This one is cartoony and there's no blood. Nobody screams in agony, and you're trying to save the cartoony universe from a crazed roboty thing. So you're good. Not evil.

I do not expose the baby to the video game -- in fact rarely even turn the tv on when she is awake -- so I may be a warmongering wannabe vidiot, but at least I'm not a bad parent.

Speaking of baby. When you put solids in one end... solids come out the other end. We went a little overboard (and here by "we" I mean "Julianna") with the iron-fortified rice cereal and the bananas, so she didn't go for two whole days. I was getting worried. Then, on day three, there it was: baby's first turd.

And no, I won't write about it in her baby book.

So far she likes nearly everything we've given her: sweet potatoes, apples, pears, rice cereal, carrots, and especially bananas. But not peas. And she was not so fond of the peaches. They were pretty tart so I don't blame her. But she liked them better if you put them with a little apple or something.

We are considering moving. Across the street from J's sister, in Vancouver (Washington), there's a house that may be up for sale, nice house, nice neighborhood, good price, etc. We'd have to sell this one, but may make enough off it to nearly trade straight across. We need more room. Though I'd miss the funky neighborhood we live in now.

Am having blog anxiety. I am not wicked smart or all that funny, don't write about inflammatory or serious subjects such as infertility (because I am fortunate enough not to be infertile, so far anyway) or politics (because it doesn't interest me though I do participate, and it stresses me out besides). So I feel kind of boring.