Mostly my excuse for not blogging is Miles. Book reading for me, exercising, and blogging have largely gone out the door with this child. He is a wonderful soul and we are so happy to have him in our family. Yet, he is what we call a High-Maintenance Baby. In fact, I sing a song to him along those lines when he's having an especially high-maintenance day. He is all smiles and contentment as long as you are holding him, although sometimes only you are standing up with your arm perched so. I don't mind most of the time, but it gets tiring and is particularly hard when cooking and cleaning. A soccer mom-friend observed that he looks so easy, but she knows that he is secretly a lot of work. But we love him and we're keeping him.
Have you ever used those old-fashioned sinks where there are 2 spigots, one of hot water and the other of cold? Yeah, those don't make a lot of sense to me... I'm glad they are for the most part antiquated and not coming back with other retro decor. We have an Austrian friend who says that it's like washing your hand in heaven and then in hell but never anything in between. Sometimes it seems like motherhood is like washing your hands in those sinks.
Take this morning, for instance. We were at the library when Max the Cutie announced to me that he needed to visit the bathroom, wherein he accomplished his goal of earning not one but TWO mini cookies for his fantastic production. I was very proud of him, and he continued his good behavior at the grocery store despite all temptations to do otherwise, since he saw some hot Cheetos like unto what Grandma bought for him when she was here in July and I adamantly refuse to buy. No ensuing tantrum, thankfully.
But then we got home, and after I'd unloaded the groceries, he announced to me, "I'm not in trouble!" and ran upstairs for me to survey the damaged ottoman and stuffed frog in the family room- both newly decorated with red marker. The Masked Marker Max strikes again.
Do not be deceived, he doesn't last long in the Bumbo.
Pondering future mischief