Cat in Heels

I’ve decided the best way to live life post-baby is to simply pack the little droolers up (seriously, so much drool) and do the things I used to do. Except go to bars. Babies aren’t welcome in bars. Granted, packing them up is like an hour ordeal, which includes figuring out which of the three strollers to take (none of which are ideal), making sure there’s at least one extra outfit per baby, bottles, maybe a breastpump (and accessories), diapers, wipes, baby sling (because sometimes they hate the stroller), and I’m sure there’s other random crap I pack without even thinking of it. Nightmare heels by Iron Fist This weekend Husband and I packed up the girls and their little ruffle-butts and drove off to Flashback Weekend , a local horror movie convention. Because babies should totally be at horror conventions. It also gave me a chance to wear my Freddy Krueger shoes again, this time with the chance that Robert Englund would see them, because he was there somewhere. For the rec...