Trying to figure out the best, easy place to record the “Mom” moments that make life hilarious and ridiculous, but that are too frequent and narcissistic and, frankly, too precious and worth remembering, to post on an impermanent place like Facebook. I have lost so many of them to the abyss of my own forgetfulness, rather than posting the snarky one-liners in my head on Facebook six times a day. It’s a shame, because I’d like to be going back to laugh at them later on. I may come up with something better than flooding this blog with one-line posts, but this’ll do for now, because I don’t have time to mastermind something creative, and this one is just too good to wait for time like that:
Why yes, those are traces of baby puke you see on the floor and the chin and the picnic blanket. And oh yes, the source is the inside of your dress shoe. No big deal.
Meanwhile I find he has found the 2yo’s play dough box and discovered how to open it and is sitting at my feet peacefully discovering a whole bin of new plastic toys. Good thing he can’t open the actual play dough cans. Yet.
And what do you do when the kid puzzles are due at the library in two days and there are two pieces in some undisclosed location?
Just a few of the things I am pondering on this new Monday morning.