Go check out Keely over at the Un-Mom, she’s feeling a little blue. She thought she might be having a ninja, and she’s not. Give her a bloggy hug. I know I’m ripping her off a little bit, but I was really sick of saying, today’s post is courtesy of….
James is having trouble at night, he gets askerd (envision accompanying tearful hand wringing) and comes upstairs pitifully asking for a hug, ’cause of the ninjas under his bed, or the cats are staring in his window. The cats are feral and probably do stare into his room just for spite. But, tonight his reason was that the TV was too loud. The TV is two stories above him- he can’t hear it. How do you keep your little one’s in bed when they’ve discovered the joy of cuddling with Mommy and Daddy in the big bed?
James went to his very first concert a couple of weekends ago, and I don’t mean Imagination Movers or the Wiggles. He sat through 2 hours of classical guitar and did great, until one of the quartet introduced a piece that was an homage to rain, a gentile spring rain, a storm, with even a little hail thrown in for good measure. Suddenly, he had to go to the bathroom.
Week before last, I worked out 5 times, last week 4, and twice so far this week and I’ve been super careful about what I eat. I’m now 5 pounds away from being the weight I was when I delivered James- a few weeks back I was 10 pounds away. I know I have to keep at it, but this sucks. I’ve been seeing a lot of ads for plastic surgery and I’m starting to understand the appeal.