Pretzel Bretzel Bridget Pie

I craved pretzels the entirety of my pregnancy with Bridget. I couldn't get enough of them. Nibbling on them was one of the only things that would keep me from throwing up on car rides, from throwing up any where. She's definitely a baby built from these salty, smooth, crunchy snacks.

 Her hair has taken on that light brown with dark brown spots sheen of pretzels.

"Hmm, what do we have here?"

She twists and turns and folds up her toes more than any of my other babies.

"Get in my belly."

I always thought pretzels were an understated snack.

"What? No, I'm not going to eat these."

Bridget is an understated angel. She's quiet and polite and happy. She rarely needs to make her voice heard, she just stares you down until you do what she wants.

"Don't touch these, Mom, they're mine. Do you understand?"

Pretzels go great with everything. So does Bridget. But she especially goes great with our family. 

I can't get enough of our Pretzel Bretzel Bridget Pie.