Babies are so great. They are wonderful little creatures whose wonderfulness more than compensates for all of the crazy things that they do to your life and to your body. And that's a good thing, because "crazy" is exactly what the things that they do to you are.

Today we need to go wayyy over there into OvershareLand and talk about boobs, and exactly what goes on with them in the weeks and months after the baby arrives...because when I was pregnant I read all the books about what happens to you post-pregnancy - hell, I wrote a book about this - and even when I had already gone through it once before, I was still floored by what happens to the top half of your body in the weeks following the birth.

Floored.

The Colonnade Hotel, Boston, 7AM

Well, there you go: our first vacation as a family of four is under our belts. (Photos from the Boston leg are coming up on The Cut in a few days.)

Not gonna lie: I thought that taking a six-hour (each way) road trip and sharing a room with a newborn and a toddler (in Boston; we had separate rooms in Maine) would be sort of seventh-circle-of-hell-ish…but it turned out to be not just okay, but great.

Before my daughter was born, I had a mental blip that made me think that a baby born in mid-August would require an enormous wardrobe of gauzy little sundresses and gingham jumpers and such, forgetting that oh right: babies don't tend to take a ton of trips to the seashore when they are a week old. And then it was fall, and too cold for gauzy little sundresses and gingham jumpers, and Gap doesn't let you return items that are more than 60 days old for the original purchase price and et cetera et cetera sigh. At least I have a pair of tiny silver huarache sandals for her to wear in February, when they will finally fit her (brain freeze, what can I say?).

So anyway, I went shopping for autumnal infant clothing yesterday. Which is basically the most fun thing in the world, especially when you stumble upon things like leopard jeans and little sweatshirts with heart pockets (if you have a little girl - or a little boy with a penchant for heart pockets - I insist that you buy that sweatshirt up there; it is so cute).

We do need to talk about that tulle overall thing for a moment. I didn't actually buy it not because it is not the platonic ideal of baby girl clothing (because it is), but rather because I am so excited about it that I need to wait until Goldie is just a tiny bit bigger and will be able to wear it more. Like every day maybe.

We have no bathtub.

Or rather we do have a bathtub…but it's in the bathroom located midway between the first floor and the basement. It's actually a pretty room, but it is also the room in our home where the spricket situation is most concentrated, and is therefore A Place I Do Not Go Without A Very Good Reason.

What that means for our child-bathing situation is that my son is still bathing in the same tub that he took baths in as a baby. It's fairly enormous as infant baths go - it fills our entire shower stall - but still: not ideal. Problem number two is that this bathtub isn't actually very good for a for-real infant…it's so big that it doesn't provide a ton of support until they're at the sit-up-on-their-own stage.

In any case, one of the purchases we knew we were going to have to make was an infant tub that would allow us to bathe Goldie in the kitchen sink (which has lots of handy counter space nearby). And what we now have is - and I do not exaggerate, here - THE COOLEST INFANT TUB IN THE WORLD. If infant tubs were aging rock stars, this one would be Steven Tyler. And you know how I feel about Steven Tyler.