Kirby sure did a bang-up job with his blogging assignment, didn't he?
I figured it was about time I log on and update this lonely little blog. Here I am. What's new, whaaaaat's new? Well, I thought I was ten weeks but then I looked at a calendar and counted, again, and realized I am only nine. These findings brought about two significant feelings for me:
1. Sadness! This means at least one more week of feeling bad. I thought I was one week closer to feeling good, but here I am, one week not closer.
2. Why am I so big? Kirby thinks it's because of my new special diet. The other day he caught me sipping off of a bottle of ginger ale and he smart-assily commented on how we was sure that it would be all the pizza and mcmuffins that would bring about my gestational diabetes but that was before he saw me knocking back soda straight out of the bottle. We shall see, Mr. Smartassbesthusbandtakingcareofeverythingallthetimeloser.
So, is it the all the junk I consume on a thrice+ weekly basis or is it a giant baby or is it quadruplets? (Don't answer that.)
reminder: ONLY NINE WEEKS
Other than all of that I have this other baby who is turning one in five days. One!
Remember his birth and my cry face?
Oh, Peter. I love him so much. He has started to say mama (nice diversion from 3 months of dada) all the time, not just when he is screaming, and I love it. He crawls around at hyper speed and yells at his siblings and climbs up onto beds and eats cat food and does lots of other naughty baby things. I think he is going to be beating Johnny up pretty soon and I can't wait. He is such a good boy. I can't believe a almost-year has already passed since his fat 9.2 lb self and I first met face to face.
Here is a pic dump of my photobooth archives bc it's all I can come up with in these maximum low standard days.