Today's Internet connection: up, down, down. Down again. Typing this from my iPhone, which is a whole heap of fun and fussy little tap tap taps. But I soldier on! To inform the Internet! That I am still pregnant and well! Although I appear to no longer have any appetite for burritos, as I learned first-hand today when I could only stare in disgust at the one food source that has sustained me and Baby Tivo lo these past eight months.
(Eight. I could have typed 8. My ingrained devotion to the AP Stylebook apparently knows no bounds.)
Noah and I both came down with colds this weekend, but I'm happy to report that my cold mysteriously healed itself first thing Sunday morning when Jason turned to me and suggested we take a trip to the Outlets (you know, Outlets as Proper Noun, because the bargains are just that hardcore) to look for that elusive coming-home outfit.
I found it at the Carter's outlet, after rejecting at least 15 other options for various really very insane reasons that even sounded insane to me as I was saying them out loud. Jason wanted a brown and green outfit that had a goddamned MOOSE on it and I said I was willing to buy it and take it home for further consideration (yeah, I was never, ever planning to really consider it.), because I was tired of sounding so crazy, but then I realized they were sold out of the matching hat. No moose hats! Oh well! (I did buy a onesie with the moose on it. I have nothing against moose, they just aren't...you know...sponge-worthy, so to speak.)
In the end I found my sweet little blue-ish sleeper in a teddy bear pattern, complete with a matching hat and a completely pointless sweater that I will force him to wear for at least one photo, because knowing my luck it will still be 95 fucking degrees the second week of October. And now all I have to do is resist cradling the empty outfit and/or carrying it with me to the supermarket for one more month if I'd like to pass for a somewhat sane human being.
And hey! I also got a sangria pitcher. And three new lighting fixtures for the house that Jason has to install immediately, because I can't rearrange the all the picture frames in the dining room until he does.
I think I have been typing this entry for seven hours now. And I still have not even STARTED to address my real main point and reason for even bothering to update at all, in the face of such connectivity challenges.
So! All of you lovely, lovely sweet people who have sent baby gifts: THANK YOU. You have really made the last few weeks just super-fun and delightful for all of us. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Now here's the problem: quite a few things have arrived via third-party sellers instead of direct from Amazon, which means incomplete to downright non-existent sender info. A couple packages have arrived with no packing slip at all, while others have only included a first and last name that I haven't been able to match up with a blogger or commenter handle. It also appears that some of these third-party sellers are not including the gift notes that you may have typed out at Amazon. I've tried to email people a quick note to acknowledge that the gift arrived, but sometimes I've been unable to do even that. Now that I'm sitting down to write and mail actual paper thank-you notes, I'm missing a BUNCH of addresses.
So...um, I don't know the tactful way to ask this, but if you have sent a gift that I have not emailed to thank you for (if I have, that means I have your address), could you maybe shoot me an email (amy AT amalah.com) and let me know what you sent and what your address is? I don't want to embarrass or stalk anyone -- I just want to send you a proper thank-you note, because you are as sweet as pie and I am just very touched by everyone who has sent something for the baby or Noah.
Oh my God, I have carpal tunnel in my fingertips. STOP TALKING, AMY. Nobody should ever type this much on a twee little mobile device. And I know as soon as I hit publish my Internet will suddenly come back on and then I will want to punch something in the face but my hands will be too weak and arthritic to punch anything in the face. And that will just be a shame.