Girl Scouts, Guns, and Haircuts
It’s 7:43 at night and Rowan just woke up from a two-hour long nap. He’s standing in the kitchen saying, “No. No go to bedtime. No, no go to bedtime.”
Life
Electrified High-Speed Pudding
Friday morning, a few minutes after 8 am, my aunt picked me up to head over to the endoscopy center. As far as I could tell, I was the youngest person in there by decades.
Endoscopy Jokes Sound Inherently Dirty
Recently, I saw January 2018 referred to as a “very long year.” This seems right on so many levels, and so far February is shaping up to be another long year in month form.
I’m Snow Done
I’m sitting in the bathroom, writing while my kids splash around in the tub, trying to see just how much water the floor can tolerate. This is life right now — sitting on the closed toilet lid, making sure nobody drowns, hoping Rowan doesn’t pee in the water, and telling Lorelei to get her butt out of her brother’s face.
Anxiety Pancakes
Sometimes, I get overwhelmed by life. Ok, most of the time I get overwhelmed by life. Pretty much always, actually.
Don’t Cry Over Weaned Milk
And it’s done. Rowan is officially weaned. I want to exclaim how my boobs are mine again, yay! But he seems to think my nipples are some sort of button? They’re his version of a fidget spinner. His security blanket. And omg, I’m about to crawl out of my skin.
Onward to January
True story: Sometimes I don’t write blog posts simply because I cannot think of a good title. Sometimes I don’t write them because I don’t think anybody really cares about regular boring life shit. Then I have to emotionally smack myself around a bit until I remember that while I did start this particular blog with the intention of having readers, it’s not why I started writing in the first place. Writing blog posts was my Facebook On This Day before there was even a Facebook.