I spent 20 minutes this morning looking for my black cardigan, which meant that I was 25 minutes late to work. The line at the DD drive through was like the line for Space Mountain on a sunny Saturday in June and, needless to say, I am a frazzled wreck and a coffee and xanax combo at 8:38am just sounds like a recipe for disaster to me…..
I never found my cardigan. Seriously, I wear it every other day, how far could it have gone? I looked on the chairs, in the car, in my closet, in the laundry….I’m wearing my frumpy grey cardigan today and I feel like a toad and OH! Did I mention? I have to go see the doctor after work (yes, THE doctor….). Guys, today is just not my day…
When it rains it pours…have truer words never been spoken? And would I even be happy with a steady pace? I guess when everything gets thrown on top of you at once at least it means that pretty soon, you’ll have a weekend or two where you’re sitting around with your finger in your nose wondering what the hell to do with yourself and all your free time, right? wishful thinking….
The thing is, I kind of hate feeling frantic. I want to say “doesn’t everyone?”, but I actually think there are a lot of people who thrive off of it….I am not one of them. mostly because I always make things more difficult than they need to be…like, oh, we’re having friends over on Saturday? Well then DROP EVERYTHING I need to rent a boat and go catch some lobsters for dinner….really? Easy just ain't my style...
Anyway, as per the uge, I am off on a tangent. I just meant to swing by here and say DAMN a girl could use a day to breathe! And a new black cardigan, because seriously?
Last weekend was a whirlwind of funeral services followed by dinner at the in-laws and this weekend proves to be more of the same (minus the funeral, thankfully) with Ben’s Easter Party at school complete with pony rides, an egg hunt and a visit from The Bunny himself…then it’s Passover and I blink and CRAP! IT’S FRIGGIN HALLOWEEN!….
:::::::rocking naked in the corner in the fetal position:::::::::
Today, Ben turns 15 months old….15 months. whoa.
He gets sweeter every day….I know, I know, I’m his mom and I am biased, but I swear it is the God’s honest truth. He gives me kisses when I ask for them, but only if we’re alone. He loves to snuggle and get chased around….he loves being outside, trying to eat sticks, handing over broken bits of last autumn's leaves with much fanfare like they are priceless gifts, exploring this big, crazy world that is still so new to him.
He said his first word about a month ago…and has been impressing us with his ever expanding vocabulary ever since…
Bird = “Burr”
Apple = “Ah-Po”
Nose = “ose”
And our favorite….”weego beego” which we are pretty sure translates to “Regal Beagle”.
I’m also pretty sure he was attempting to say “Octopus” last night while reading his bathtub book. And picking the crab out of a lineup of assorted sea creatures? Piece of cake for this dude. Gets it right 90% of the time. Genius.
This is how he smiles for pictures, always running at you full steam ahead, hence the perpetual blur...I know it is completely ridiculous and also, so temporary, and for that, i could cry because seeing this crazy face does something to my heart that feels like an explosion every single time….I just want to scoop him up and swallow him whole. If I could spend 24 hours of every day hugging and kissing him, I swear I would do it and never feel like a single second was wasted….I love him more every minute and I know that is sappy and a big eye roller, but God, it’s true!
Besides, honestly? Have you ever seen anything quite so handsome?