Argh.

I just so love it when my husband comes home on Fridays, grumpy because he's worn out from the week, and takes out his grumpiness on me. Um, hello, I've been here all week with the poosplosions, the laundry, the learning-to-walk-11-month-old who likes to drop his binkies in the cats' water dish, and very little adult contact or conversation, and yet I still manage to be happy and pleasant to you, don't I??

Not to mention he has had some kind of cold/allergies going on FOR. EVER. and yet refuses to ever take any medication or see a doctor for it, except when it got bad enough to be called a sinus infection and he had to go get some antibiotics. He probably has swine flu and he's going to infect me and the little dude. All he does is sit there and SNIFF HIS SNOT BACK INTO HIS THROAT and then cough and go spit in the sink. It makes me want to throttle him.

Can you tell I have PMS?

The good news is that Alex, who I really once thought I was going to be feeding applesauce to at his wedding, is voluntarily eating those Gerber puffs and yogurt melts! Seriously, one time we put a Cheerio on his tongue and he gagged so hard he threw up. Thanks to the introduction of Baby Mum-Mums (rice rusks), he has moved slowly from those, to Crunchies, cheese, pickles, french fries, and now the aforementioned snacks. He also gnaws on bananas and plums! I'm so relieved that now I'll have actual foods to relate to the doctor at his one-year checkup.

Well, I might not tell her about the french fries.