Eeek. I last posted last week.
Oops.
That's what happens when Mama works all the time.
What what also happens is that the laundry pile is mistaken for Mount Everest. I've been shooing reporters away from my front door all week. Nope, sorry, it's just laundry. Looks like Mount Everest, you say? Sorry to disappoint, but Mount Everest remains in Nepal, this is just my laundry pile. No, you cannot take my picture in front of it. No, please don't call the Guinness Book of World Records.
Speaking of taking pictures, Milo is so incredibly cute and I keep trying to take a picture of him but my camera is dead and I have ONE AA battery left in this house. Well, I haven't looked under beds or behind furniture, but I only have one in the battery box. So you'll have to imagine what he looks like.
His head is very round, in the 95% percentile to be exact, his eyes are big and are looking like they will be blue, his cheeks are about a square acre each, covered in eczema (starting a no dairy diet tomorrow), his thighs can be mistaken for a row of dinner rolls and he is perched in the high chair, saying da da da da da (of course not ma ma ma ma) and trying to eat Little Puffs, but he gets confused once they hit his mouth and his face squnches up and his tongue goes a mile a minute and the Puff falls out and lands on his bib that says messy is my middle name.
I love my baby boy. Except I don't think he loves me anymore. He refuses to snuggle. When he does sit with me, he is either poking at my eyeballs or pulling on my hair or digging for my cell phone. Then he'll start crawling soon and then walking and then talking and then when he's about 3, he'll love me again. I hope.
In other news...
I hate to say this so I'll whisper it but I think Tucker is potty trained. Don't say anything to anyone because then I'll have jinxed myself but he hasn't used a pull-up in quite some time and he has stayed dry for almost a month, with the exception of two accidents at Grandma's.
When Avery was Piper's age, she was potty trained but I don't think Princess Petunia is quite ready. She talks about the potty but her attention span on the toilet is about .056 seconds. But that would be great if in a few months, she would be trained too, leaving only one in diapers around here.
The countdown is on until Chet starts school again at the end of August, unless a miracle happens and he's offered a job. Yes, I'll have to keep working, but life seems much less busy when only one of us is working. I don't mind having to work every night as long as Chet will be home and the dishes will get done and the laundry will be washed and the floors will be vacuumed. When I'm only home for half days and he's only home for about 3 hours until bedtime, things don't always get done. And nothing makes Mama more crabby than a messy house. And nothing makes Daddy more crabby than Mama being crabby. And nothing makes the kids more crabby than Mama and Daddy being crabby.
Three, beautiful, well-behaved children have just entered the house, COVERED in mud. I spy about 8 mud pies drying on the deck railing.
I think I have to go before my house is ruined.
Oops.
That's what happens when Mama works all the time.
What what also happens is that the laundry pile is mistaken for Mount Everest. I've been shooing reporters away from my front door all week. Nope, sorry, it's just laundry. Looks like Mount Everest, you say? Sorry to disappoint, but Mount Everest remains in Nepal, this is just my laundry pile. No, you cannot take my picture in front of it. No, please don't call the Guinness Book of World Records.
Speaking of taking pictures, Milo is so incredibly cute and I keep trying to take a picture of him but my camera is dead and I have ONE AA battery left in this house. Well, I haven't looked under beds or behind furniture, but I only have one in the battery box. So you'll have to imagine what he looks like.
His head is very round, in the 95% percentile to be exact, his eyes are big and are looking like they will be blue, his cheeks are about a square acre each, covered in eczema (starting a no dairy diet tomorrow), his thighs can be mistaken for a row of dinner rolls and he is perched in the high chair, saying da da da da da (of course not ma ma ma ma) and trying to eat Little Puffs, but he gets confused once they hit his mouth and his face squnches up and his tongue goes a mile a minute and the Puff falls out and lands on his bib that says messy is my middle name.
I love my baby boy. Except I don't think he loves me anymore. He refuses to snuggle. When he does sit with me, he is either poking at my eyeballs or pulling on my hair or digging for my cell phone. Then he'll start crawling soon and then walking and then talking and then when he's about 3, he'll love me again. I hope.
In other news...
I hate to say this so I'll whisper it but I think Tucker is potty trained. Don't say anything to anyone because then I'll have jinxed myself but he hasn't used a pull-up in quite some time and he has stayed dry for almost a month, with the exception of two accidents at Grandma's.
When Avery was Piper's age, she was potty trained but I don't think Princess Petunia is quite ready. She talks about the potty but her attention span on the toilet is about .056 seconds. But that would be great if in a few months, she would be trained too, leaving only one in diapers around here.
The countdown is on until Chet starts school again at the end of August, unless a miracle happens and he's offered a job. Yes, I'll have to keep working, but life seems much less busy when only one of us is working. I don't mind having to work every night as long as Chet will be home and the dishes will get done and the laundry will be washed and the floors will be vacuumed. When I'm only home for half days and he's only home for about 3 hours until bedtime, things don't always get done. And nothing makes Mama more crabby than a messy house. And nothing makes Daddy more crabby than Mama being crabby. And nothing makes the kids more crabby than Mama and Daddy being crabby.
Three, beautiful, well-behaved children have just entered the house, COVERED in mud. I spy about 8 mud pies drying on the deck railing.
I think I have to go before my house is ruined.
Comments
Post a Comment