* In case this is some deep dark secret of which you weren’t aware, I felt I must share this: hormones suck.
* My oldest two kids (“They’re children, not kids! You aren’t raising goats!” So said the ever-so-slightly batty old lady in church years ago, over and over and over). Umm . . . where was I? Yes, my oldest two kids have been with my parents since Saturday. I am missing them.
* Speaking of the ever-so-slightly batty old lady in church years ago, she was notorious for being long winded (should I be hyphenating that, I can’t remember). Even more long winded than I am. Shocking, I know. Anyway, somebody, who must have thought it would be a great joke, asked her to say the closing prayer in church one week. McH set the stopwatch on his wristwatch as soon as she started. As she finished up and the rest of the congregation was saying, “Amen,” he was saying (loudly), “Eight minutes and 20 seconds!” Because, alas, that is how long she prayed.
* It occurs to me I’ve shared that story with you already. Maybe?
* It also occurs to me that I now have a regular reader outside of my family who will know exactly about whom I am talking. In fact, her husband may have even been the person to ask the aforementioned lady to say the prayer. Well, please don’t hate me. She was a dear soul, but she was ever-so-slightly batty.
* Have I mentioned the suckitude of hormones already?
* The baby can crawl up and down the stairs, but he won’t. No, he insists on walking up and down the stairs, which he can’t. Well, actually, he can go up pretty well holding on to the banister posts (what is the official name for those things?!?), but he’s not so good on the down. Unless you’re only giving points for speed of descent.
* The baby is also loving the pond. He wants to get out there and swim with the big kids. He kicks his legs, wriggles his body, and does everything he possibly can to get me to just. let. go. already! so that he can join the kiddie fun in the deeper water. That, of course, is when he doesn’t have any kind of life jacket on. Put the flotation device on so that he can go join the kiddie fun in the deeper water and he won’t freaking let go of me. Newsflash baby boy: you can’t float and your legs are too short to be walking down the stairs.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.