Time is flying, it’s March! As D put it this morning, “It’s nearly effing Spring!” Only, he didn’t say “effing”, cause he’s like that. And then I have to give him the look, and meaningfully tilt my chin towards the innocents playing on the floor. I actually don’t think it’s a big deal, but after Noah dropped something off the stairs a few months ago and yelled,” Sh!t!” I’m more careful. At least with the eff-word.
Anyway. We had a pretty good weekend, only I drank a touch too much at a babyshower on Saturday afternoon and apparently thought that water would turn my feet into puddles, cause I didn’t have any. Cue Sunday. Cue me with the Neanderthal ancestor of all hangovers. Bastard.
Today, we’re back on track and doing some cleaning. I say this with a bit of a woeful smile, because what I’m really doing is keeping one eye on He Who Crawls Everywhere And Shoves Everything In His Mouth Even If It’s Something Really Gross, AND cleaning. Lil G apparently figured out how to crawl properly last week at some point and he’s so effing fast that D and I are still yelling to each other when he races across the floor to where the gate to the downstairs is open, or the toilet door. Or the bucket of toxic household cleaning products is kept.
He woke up from a very early nap, but not very happily.
Turns out, he was just hungry.