Hola muchachos. Did you miss me? (Also, what is a muchacho? I feel that it should be some combination of a gaucho and a nacho.) (On second thought, that would be an unfortunate combination of noncompatible items.) (No, google says it is a male servant or a young man. I liked it better when it was a fashion nacho.)
So hi! It’s been a while, and JUST LET ME TELL YOU WHY. Oh yes, it’s going to be capsy. Not bad, so much, but just, you know, LOUD. So first there was my unfortunate medical issue, which is ongoing; it’s getting better, but it’s still affecting my ability to effectively manage the
three hours hour and a half that Dane naps every day. And then there are all the other things I’m trying to do while Dane naps, like, you know, unravel the mysteries of the universe and clean out my washer and write thank you notes and get our roof replaced and try to figure out how to keep my child nursing because last Sunday he randomly decided he was no longer interested in milky products of any kind. Really, little man? Which thusly meant a trip to the doctor and a phone call to the lactation consultant and from there we’re doing skin-to-skin and I’m carrying him everywhere in the sling (at ten months. Yes, he’s STOKED.) and feeding him at the drop of a hat and on the couch and in the car (but without my nursing cover because did I mention HE’S TEN MONTHS OLD, WHO DOES THIS?) and wherever he might be hungry and then naptime is all muckedy-mucked up because he MIGHT nurse or he MIGHT not and we need a different routine for each eventuality and by the end of the day you might just as well hook me up to an IV of lime juice and Cuervo because OMG SHOULDN’T THIS BE EASY BY NOW? I mean. LAWDY.
And then on top of all that, I’m trying to install cabinet locks and drawer locks and strap down all our furniture and hide the plastic hangers, because in the same span of time, Mr. Smushylicious Smartypants has learned to do this:
|That’s right, Gladware. YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME.|
So I get a few of those things done (but no, not the thank you notes, can I please just send out a great PSYCHIC YAWLP THANK YOU and be done with it, universe?) and just as I’m starting to feel a little better, somebody dialed up a hurricane and screwed up my plans to go to the beach last weekend. Instead I spent most of last week in a strange inert state, going to Target every day to pick up D batteries and bottled water and dried gnocchi and pasta sauce and diapers and wipes and Desitin (and a can of bean dip and some Diet Rite) (what, no REK fans out there?), and then lo and behold we got two gusts of wind, a twenty minute rain storm and a half-hearted growl of thunder and BAM it’s sunny again. Thanks, Mother Nature. WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL THESE PEOPLE I’M FROM HOUSTON?
|Um, Mommy, COULD YOU PLEASE BACK OFF THE CAPS?|
Here’s the silver lining part: the hurricane brought on the inertia which brought on some reflection time, in which I realized I’m a little south of satisfied about the blog (this one here, I mean). When I started writing again, it was more or less wordvomit. I was coming out of the crazymommy stage and needed to dump out the contents of my brain and HEY, why not do that in front of two billion people on the internet, right? And the more I’ve written, the more I’ve read other mom bloggers and the more I’ve realized I really enjoy reading and writing (good on me for figuring that out after two years of grad school), and blah blah blah, I’ve decided to make some changes. Find some new digs, maybe. Get a fancy title bar. Yes, I might even join Twitter, which is apparently what all the young kids do for fun these days (although Aunt Brookie has sworn SHE WILL NOT FOLLOW ME ON ONE MORE WEBSITE.) (But she will.) (Because all the cool kids are doing it.) (Or really, just because she loves me. Right, A.B.? Right?).
Good grief, this post is unreadable.
Anyway, the upshot of all this is I’m going to disappear for a few more days and try to find a fancy new spot to splash my baby’s mug all over and until then, I wish you guys love and candy bars and a great college football weekend and magical tequila that does not a hangover require. Don’t worry, we’ll be back. How could I deny the world… this?
|Where’s the baby?|
Or even this?
|I’m so screwed.|