The mama here. Reed's cranky and taking time off from the blog. Anyone who's anyone in the household of Reed knows that the Bjorn's the thing . . . the sling, err, Hotsling, hasn't yet been retired, but it seems to be on it's way out. The struggle to shove Reed's butt and legs into the sling as if they he were bread dough that required kneading might be one of the contributing factor's to the sling's probable demise . . . and it's replacement with the Bjorn (which, incidentally, boasts a few neat hooks and snaps that require only that baby be smoothly inserted and lifted out, without threat of poked and prodded flesh). Mostly, we've carried him around the house, often pausing in front of the Christmas tree (a rather crack-like addiction for babies). The true test? The store (any store, really, though Walmart at Christmas might yield the truest results) -- we'll let you know if the Bjorn maintains in the brand-name baby-gear war (ughh).
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