Why, you may ask, have I neglected writing a new post for 3 weeks? Well for starters, Henry has learned to pull himself up to stand, he has learned to crawl like a beast, my father-in-law turned 90 years old and frankly, that is absolutely worth celebrating, AND I was a zookeeper for an entire day. Oh and I watched the Oscars, which means I was sucked into a minor oblivion for what felt like days. Not to mention all sorts of (temporarily) secret exciting stuff that is going on, which is taking up what little focus and brain space I have left.
I feel like it would be totally appropriate to end my post here.
To further demonstrate what my stream of consciousness is like on a daily basis.
It's very wham-bam-thank you ma'am.
A rush of thoughts/words/feelings and then suddenly mush. Being able to comprehend nothing more than an episode of New Girl or pounding my hands on Henry's toy keyboard making non-sensical sounds while he stares at me in a do-you-really-need-to-keep-doing-that kind of way.
And yet I find myself still writing.
And now I've jinxed myself. I have nothing left to say.
Henry is 7 months old now, and he's ridiculously awesome. Aside from being dashingly handsome, he's goofy, smart, and full of love.
Oh yeah, I got a Dove Chocolate wrapper that said "You should charge for your great advice." So who wants some advice?