I’m not dead yet.

  • I managed to sort through the nearly seven boxes of children’s clothing and toys that I’ve hoarded over the last three years. I thought it would be smart to keep absolutely everything for a second little one but this move has taught me different. I’ve dwindled the stock down to two containers and a box. 
  • Not a single room in the house is complete but two rooms are painted and the kitchen is in working order. 
  • My side of the five thousand dollar bed has turned into a crater. I’m positive something isn’t working correctly because, as my husband lovingly put it, I don’t weigh that much. 
  • B has for real turned into a little boy. At home all he wants to do is dig in the dirt or play swords or throw balls. And at the store all he wants to do is climb on everything remotely climbable. 
  • Something on television had me crying the other day and when B noticed he became very concerned and said, “awwww, cwying.” Then he started stroking my leg, leaning his cheek on me and saying, “shhhh, shhhh.”

We’re unpacking, we’re painting, we’re dropping enormous amounts of money on a sleep number bed…

For that kind of cash I better look like Veronica freaking Mars when I lay in it.