nothing like a mommy-me bath time. luckily she didn't poop in the tub. that time. |
I need to get better about writing. I must. If only to keep my sanity and to get the one million thoughts out of my head before Joe comes home and I bombard him with baby talk and discussions of bowel movements. Don't you wish you were him?
So what's going on with me? Well, that twelve-week old face up there for starters. Golly gee she just kills me with her cuteness.* We're currently in the middle of teaching Marlo to sleep in her crib and let's just say that she's not exactly a star pupil. Don't get me wrong, I totally dig the midnight cuddles but Mama and Papa need some serious adult time. It's been too long.
We're also watching a lot of the Olympics. Is it just me or does the opening ceremony make you realize how geographically inept you are? I've never heard of at least half of those countries. So ignant. And while we're on the topic of ignorance, Ryan Lochte's gold grill has to be the tackiest and most ridiculous thing ever. I mean, come on dude. You're an Olympian, let's step up the class just a bit. Also, what's with the berets that Ralph Lauren designed for the Americans to wear? Shouldn't they be wearing cowboy hats and spurs on their leather boots? Lebron James in a beret? Not his best look. Picturing Lebron in an all denim Wranglers ensemble... that, my friends is pure old glory right there!
Well, that's all for now. The babe is waking up and duty calls.
*Try using golly gee in an actual out-loud conversation today; conversations with yourself don't count. See how many side eyes glares you get. My guess is at least two.
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