He walks.
He climbs.
He dances.
He says the following words:
Hi.
Mama.
Milk.
Hot.
Uh-oh.
Bye.
He has 4.2 million teeth.
He has recently learned how to climb out of his crib, which is, in fact, fabulously convenient.
He is completely and utterly terrified of bubbles in the bath.
And Uncle Alex.
But really . . .who isn't?
He's getting so big . . . but he will always be my baby.
Interesting.
I have a double-chin.
Who knew?
I wonder if they make "8-minute Chins?"
If so, I am totes buying myself a copy.
And now, to make everyone else feel better about their homes, I present a peek into my world:
Points of interest you should notice:
1) Check out how scratched my coffee table surface is. This is due to the fact that Handsome Dude and Little Dude firmly believe the coffee table is, in fact, a race track.
(Interruption: my in-laws are furniture restorers. I fear I am a huge disappointment in the furniture area.)
2) There is still toothpaste on my couch. I repeat, there is still toothpaste on my couch. I am considering turning the couch cushion around.
3) A bit of advice: do not, under any circumstances, install faux wood blinds in your home if you have children under the age of 10. Your blinds will never, under any circumstances, look nice and lovely for as long as life endures.
4) Yes. There is a fan in my home. In January. When it is freezing. This is for to cool us down when we are exercising on the elliptical trainer that we pretend to use.
5) Our dog needs a bath and better breath.
6) Yours truly still has a very sore neck. So, what you see there under my head is a heating pad.
And in conclusion, I would like to make something clear.
Yes.
My neck hurts from using the weighted hula hoop.
But, no.
I did not use said hula hoop around my neck.
I have had, like, 20 people ask me this.
I am not that dumb.
I don't know why my neck hurts from the weighted hula hoop.
But, I am considering going to the chiropractor as it has bothered me something fierce for 6 days now.
I am not looking forward to this.
I dislike being touched.
