See, I think we missed his "nap window" with a trip to the library. Dvds were due today, so it just seemed like the thing to do. But, the darn library doesn't open until 10:00 AM. This is RIDICULOUS unto me. But whatever. So, when we got home, it was too late. He screamed, he cried and he pooped.
So, I set him free.
Then tried again later. No dice.
It was insanity, truly.
In the end, I went upstairs, utterly ignored everyone and everything and ate home made bread with "light cardio choice margarine. Oh my, I miss my butter. I LOVE butter. I miss it so so much.
And while I'm tangenting, what is the point of "cardio choice" margarine? I mean, it does NOTHING cardiovascular-y for me at all. If, say, it had the same benefit as running a mile, I swear, I'd be eating by the spoonful. But alas, it does not. It's just "lower fat" as far as I can ascertain. USELESS.
Wow, back on topic (do I have a topic???) Oliver appeared suddenly, completely covered in marker. I mean, like hands, clothes, face, the works.
I did not yell, I did not scream. I ate my bread.
Then I went downstairs to assess the damage. Miracle of miracles, he only used his person as a canvas. Nothing else.
Where was I going with this? I don't know. It's just been a rough day in Oliver-land. The annoying thing is, Oliver is perfectly cheerful. He really ought to be grumpy. I mean, that just makes good sense, right? But he is just happy as clam.
Speaking of rough days, my little Ezra-man had one yesterday. Even the sling made him angry. So, I sat a lot. I did nothing except laundry and baby-holding. I am choosing to believe that he's growing or the like, and that it's NOT my fault (and the teeny-tiny piece of cheese pizza I ate on Monday)...
All the holding is great, but I needed to make dinner. So, Henry happily volunteered to "babysit." It was all his idea. "I want to be a babysitter when I grow up. Not so grown up that I have my own babies but before that." SWOON!
So, he babysat, which meant sticking the binky in Ezra's mouth over and over again, while he read Family Fun magazine, in my bed. Next to the HUGE pile of laundry. Nice.
|From January 2011|