Thing 2

Yes, yes, it's been over 3 months since I've blogged. But I have a very good excuse. Right now, I only have the use of one arm, because I have this in my other arm:


















Ain't she pretty? She's made completely of awesome. I know this sounds stupid to say, but I love her. Like, fan-girl love her. If there was mass marketing around her, I'd buy every t-shirt, bumper sticker, bobble-head and mechanical pencil. She'd be my set station on Pandora. If she was on TV, I'd set my DVR to record every episode. She'd be ring tone, my avatar, my hashtag.

I felt this way about my son, too, but since I was a new parent, it was interlaced with bouts of paranoid delusion. My inner monologue sounded a bit like this:

He pooped, oh my god, what do I do, is it good poop, is it the right color, has he gone enough, the hospital said he'd got three to six times a day and, oh crap, he just made a weird noise, what does that noise mean, is he hungry, tired, uncomfortable, itchy, is it an early sign of ADHD or...holy shit, his eye just did a weird thing, is he having a seizure, oh, my god, how do I know if he's having a seizure, I'd better google "baby eye weird seizure" and, oh mother of god, he just moved his head and I heard a noise, did he break his neck, should we call the hospital, I think we should call the hospital, his arm looks weird, is that a normal arm, what if it falls off or what if he has some weird arm disorder, oh, god, it's 3am, should I page the pediatrician, or maybe I'll just google "baby weird arm falling off"...

Luckily with each child, you become less and less of lunatic.

But, as awesome as she is, she doesn't yet support my need to write (hence the 3 month delay in updating my blog and cricket sounds in my "Poo Lives" folder). I attempted to do NaNo for about five minutes, because, yes, yes, I have ideas....so many ideas!!!! But for now, they'll have to just bob around aimlessly until I can a) convince baby girl that napping in her crib as opposed to on my shoulder is a super neat-o idea, b) get her to see that writing gets mommy to her happy place without the use of wine and/or Clive Owen movies and c) convince her that writing could possibly lead to success which could lead to riches which could lead to lots of shoes for her.

Wish me luck...