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And I know you all love babies but I have decided that along with the Alleged Lady I shall start celebrating Fat Baby Friday.  On Friday (and only Friday unless Baby Z hits a milestone not on a Friday) I shall post photos of my adorable nephew. Baby Z who I miss already- his little coos and snuffles and sneezes and blinks. BISMOW worries that I am now baby-crazy but I assured him I'm only baby crazy for Baby Z. In fact, Baby Z has affirmed that I am no where near ready for my own little bundle of joy. One day, when the time is right. Now? The time is no-where near right. In fact, BISMOW and I are not even ready for a puppy. (Ok fine. I'm ready for a puppy. My no-pet-policy in my apartment is not. And the July move is not right with the timing of other important life events and so, no puppies yet. Much less babies.) Watching a baby being born, while amazing, also makes your stomach cringe a little and your whole body to do an involuntary shudder. Ouch. 

And now I'm back in Chicago, applying for jobs and keeping my fingers crossed that something, anything comes my way. I have a few prospects on the back burner but they are currently set on "low simmer" so we'll see if anything comes of them. 

And, thank you thank you to everyone who has given me shoe advice!! I refuse to let this become a wedding blog or a baby blog or anything but a "The Crazy Life of Daisy" blog but alas, some of you have requested details. All I'll say is that when you rush home for the birth of a baby and then the baby is born and the Mama and Dad and baby are sleeping, that leaves Grandma & Auntie (Or Titi Daisy as I think I'm going to be known.....my SIL is Puerto Rican) with nothing but time. And seeing as how I just got engaged, Mama Duke and I took our free time to knock out some wedding planning, so knock we did. Our dress excursion to "just see" ended up with a moment in the dressing room of me going "Ahhhh. The one!" complete with unicorns and rainbows and firecrackers. So, yes, I have a dress. And a lot of other stuff done done and done. Which makes the Type A in me happy and gives me more brain space to think of ways that Titi Daisy can spoil Baby Z.  And roast chickens for BISMOW. And find a job. In no particular order of course. 

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