I meant to post later that day, I truly did.
The boy has learned to walk. And so I have spent the last few days rescuing the humidifier, the garbage can, the toilet paper, and the cats from those chubby little fingers. At the same time, he has given up his morning nap OH GOD NO. Unfortunately, he still gets just as tired and cranky- he just doesn't go to sleep to make himself OR MOMMY WHO NEEDS HER COFFEE feel any better.
Thus he has been spending Mommy's coffee time playing with his crib toys.
Anyway! I'll start off with me. I'm 31, from a small town in Western New York. I decamped WNY.... for eastern New York... and there I stay. I've always gone just a little bit off the beaten path and I like it that way. I love purses, sneakers, cats, and my family. One of the highlights of my year is when we take our annual trip to visit my parents' home for half the year- a cabin in the literal middle of nowhere in WNY.
I met my husband, B, in 2003. I was introduced to him by my high school sweetheart, who I remained good friends with. The night I met B I was "celebrating" with friends and do not remember meeting him. The next day B came back, presumably to ensure that I was still alive. I went home thinking I had met a really nice guy. One year later we moved in together. Two months later we were engaged. One year and three months later, we were married. Two years to the day after our wedding, we found out we were having a baby. And there my descent into this crazy land called Motherhood began.
I intend to get into way more (probably too many more) details about all of this as we go on. This is what's known as the severely abridged version that I am able to handle before bed on a Friday night!
In other news, the boy will walk to Daddy and a stroller (suitable for pushing) but hardly ever to boring old Mommy who he sees day in and day out. Sigh. The boy wants only to push the stroller, not to ride in it NO NEVER KTHX. My attempts to have him ride in his stroller instead of push it himself, for example when we are trying to cross the street and cannot, say, sit down in the middle to examine a twig, are met with howls. HOWLS I SAY! MOM IS MEAN!
I love this kid. He is just like me.