And (not but) I'm also going to start to write about other things...things I find interesting...things I find funny...things I find horrifying. If you don't find my posts interesting or funny or horrifying, no problem- you can simply scroll past the words and look at the adorable photos of my son (and husband.) You'll know the post has something about Julian in it if you see the word "Julian" while you're scrolling. Sorry if some of you may find this disappointing, but the time has come.
Also, I'd love to know who is out there reading, but it seems some of you don't know you can leave comments! So here's the deal. At the bottom of the post in tiny type it says "comments." All you have to do is click on this word and a box will open up with a spot for you to leave a note. You know, kind of like how you used to write on the stall of the bathroom in junior high, but you actually sign your name, and you don't leave other people's phone numbers (Art, you got that?)
OK, now for the post. I'll put photos up first, so those of you who don't want to read about the really gross thing that happened to me a few nights ago will be able to just skip it...
My Grandmother (may she rest in peace) would be thrilled to know that the step stool she used to reach her bed, when flipped over makes an excellent non motorized vehicle for Julian.
Jon's fraternity made t-shirts for their "house" parties. At the height of the 1980s they had the "Postman party" and they made this particular t-shirt. Jon commented as he laid it on the 't-shirts to become rags' pile that it was supposed to be artsy but looking back it just seems kind of misogynistic...hmmmm.
Julian is NOT a misogynist. He just likes art.
These are my favorite Jammies.
Now, down to business- please close the page if you don't want to read anything that isn't baby related. Thank you.
So, we're all coughing over here. Fevers, phlegm, hacking, you name it. Monday night I woke up and was coughing and couldn't stop. We have this great Chinese cough syrup, and I went into the bathroom to take some. It was dark, and when I reached for the spoon it was a little sticky. No problem, Jon had gotten up to take some too. I licked off the spoon and brought it into the bedroom. Opened the jar and poured myself a dose. Mind you I was a little feverish and very tired. When I started getting that weird feverish feeling like bugs were crawling on my skin I took a moment to marvel at how strong the power of the mind is. Then suddenly the feeling is spreading to my face, and wait, holy crap, it's ANTS. I flipped the light on and they were teeming all over the bottle, my hand, THE SPOON, my pillow. I still hold that I don't know that I actually ate any ants. Let's leave it at that, ok?
My new best friend.
