Saturday, March 27, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Hello, everyone! Bug here.
I know, right? It's a little shocking.
Besides having the most edible cheeks in all the land, there isn't a lot new going on. I am completely uninterested in learning to roll over. If it requires spending any significant amount of time on my tummy at all, it can't possibly be worth it. Plus, I figure I'm clearly ahead of the game in core muscle tone. Check me out in my exersaucer:
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Anyway, now that we can all agree that summer is on it's way, hip hip hooray, hoo boy, have I got a story for you!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Naturally, I came home and consulted the all-knowing Wikipedia to refresh my memory.
In 1967, psychiatrists Holmes and Rahe developed a scale of 43 stressful life events that can contribute to illness. Based on the last 4 1/2 months, I calculated my scores.
Gain a new family member- 39
Change in financial state- 38
Change in responsibilities at work- 29
Spouse starts or stops work- 29
Revision of personal habits- 24
Trouble with boss- 23
Change in working hours or conditions- 20
Change in church activities- 19 (not to argue with the good doctors or anything, but I propose becoming both ward organist and choir director at the same time should be way more than 19 points. Just listening to the ward choir is worth 19 points.)
Change in sleeping habits- 16
It's no wonder I've been a bit emotionally fragile lately.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. As of this morning:
Minor violation of the law- 11
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
We're not really sure if my Paddy is Irish, what with his mama being adopted and all. I'm not generally big on stereotyping based on appearance (books and covers, you know), but I'd say he makes a pretty good case for it:
I mean, honestly. Have you ever seen such an adorable little leprechan?
Anyway, the point is that I try to make a big deal out of the day whether he's technically Irish or not because I figure I'd want the same courtesy if a St. Kristie's Day existed. Get ready to have your mind blown, here: this is the NINTH St. Paddy's Day wherein I have enjoyed having my own personal Paddy. Nine whole years. Such is young love.
Did you know I love you? I love you. Thank you for loving me back even though I have been a complete and certifiable crazy person for the last month. I'm sorry about all the hysterics and carrying on (I'm Scottish, after all) and I promise to be better.
Thank you for doing the laundry and I promise to fold it. Thank you for working so hard and I will, too. Thank you for looking so handsome in your cuff links, and I'll iron every day for you if you want. Thank you for giving me Bug, and there's nothing else to say about that because she's perfect. I knew she would be because she's partly you, only her burps don't smell like salami. (Gross.)
I smother her in kisses and it's like smothering you, not just because she looks just like you, but also because she IS you, and she IS me, too, and I can't think of a more beautiful reason to believe.
I love you, love you, love you to the moon and back. Someday we'll be old together and have lots of grown up babies and maybe just one will look a little like me and we'll hold hands and I will love you then, too. Burps and all.
Yours, always and always,
Monday, March 15, 2010
"Well, you should take your pants off and get busy, then."
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Her phone got ruined by water damage. (Sweat damage, really.) Let that be a lesson.
So here's what I don't get. Professional women who store the cell phone in their bra during the course of a normal work day. I mean, really? Because you love blindly grasping for items in your underwear in front of other people? And then putting that item up against your face?
Friday, March 5, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
I am blaming my dirty bathrooms, unfolded laundry, and microwaveable dinner on you, just so you know. My visiting teaching got done yesterday. Remember how that was the last day of the month? Your fault. And when summer comes, I will blame my weed-filled garden on you, too. In case you were wondering, the Lupster hasn't been to the dog park in ages and my car needs to be vacuumed. But, you see, I don't have time to do it because I'm out breaking glass ceilings and liberating housewives and whatnot. I just thought you should know that I did not choose the outfit that my baby wore today. Did you hear that? Someone else did. I hope you're happy.
But still, way to go on those biceps.
A (gratefully) well-educated, (grudgingly) working mother.