No reason, I just love this one.

I have the world’s sweatiest baby. I feel so bad for him and his sticky, sweaty skin I’ve taken off his diaper and am letting him play naked on the baby gym. I know I’m tempting fate big time but I figure I was going to wash that play mat today anyways.

The chocolate I bought this afternoon already melted. I had to put the rest of it in the fridge, right on top of the vegetables. Gee, I guess I’ll have to eat it all before I get to the healthy stuff. Except that it’s so hot that the thought of eating something as heavy as chocolate makes me feel sick.

The cashier at the grocery store dropped my avocado. I thought she had just bruised it but it broke open on the way home. I am unreasonably angry about the loss and want to go back smash it in her face. I was really looking forward to that avocado.

I ran into the husband of my old boss’s best friend when I picked up lunch. He was all “oh call us and come hang out” and I was “oh yeah I totally will” even though I know we won’t ever actually do it. It’s way too hard to coordinate everything with 3 working adults and a 4 month old. Too many “maybe”s. This is why I don’t have very many friends.

I’ve drunk two full pitchers of Crystal Light today. Maybe if I write about it they’ll send me some coupons. That stuff’s expensive.

It’s so hot in my house, my satellite receiver just stopped working and warned me it was in danger of BLOWING UP. Ok not really, but has “exceeded the recommended operating temperature” and none of the buttons work. So now the fan is blowing on that instead of on me.

The baby managed to roll off his mat and onto the floor so now he’s covered – COVERED – in dog hair and random bits of dirt. He looks totally neglected and trashy. In a minute I’m going to go wash him off with the garden hose.

All of my plants have died from the heat and lack of rain. I would care more if it wasn’t too damn hot to go outside and garden.

OMG IT’S HOT. SO HOT. HOT HOT HOT. I LITERALLY CANNOT THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE BESIDES HOW HOT IT IS RIGHT NOW. I would go to the library but they’re closed this week for budget reasons. E is out of town for work so I can’t beg him to install a window unit. I’m about an hour away from moving into the furniture display at JC Pennys, just because they have air conditioning and somewhere to take a nap. Do you think they mind baby spit up on their floor displays?

Ok, this may be a little gross y’all, but I can use all the prizes anyone wants to give me so I entered Baby Evan in the local radio station’s cutest kid contest. I could use some help getting votes, so PLEASE go here and enter number 057 (Evan’s number). I don’t have a zillion relatives to pimp this out to and despite my determination to spend the next week voting for him overandoverandover I might have a little more luck if other people help. I know I can count on the interwebs! Even if you just stumbled over here trying to find pictures of “naked purple boobs” or “ct mom huge breasts” (true search terms y’all) do me a favor and vote for my kid.

HOW CAN YOU RESIST?

I knew buying this $20 rocking chair with the broken seat at that church tag sale two years ago was a good idea! It’s a nice chair, very sturdy and well made. It just lacked a seat.
All it took was a nice thick piece of foam, a yard of fabric, iron-on hem tape and some carpet-nails-as-upholstery-tacks.
Now we have a way to rock the baby without being banished to the front porch or the nursery. E picked out the fabric, as it is officially HIS “Old man chair”, not mine. TA-DA!

Last week I loaded up my stroller with the eighty bajillion cans of formula the formula companies gave me at the hospital (or sent in the mail, or handed out at the pediatricians office*) and hauled all of it plus the baby downtown to Madonna Place (I like to imagine all their charity work leads to wearing cone bras and freakishly muscular arms).

I had briefly considered selling all that formula on Craigslist as the street value was close to $100. A quick search indicates that many people do just that, although some of those formula sellers are looking to unload specific brands in exchange for another. $100 buys a lot of nursing pads. I thought about keeping it for when Baby Evan gets a little older and I leave him with a babysitter so I don’t have to worry about having pumped enough that week. The idea of spending more than 2 hours away from the baby makes me giddy with both delight and horror. But I decided I would feel better about myself if I donated it all. Times are tough. Charities aren’t getting the donations they used to and people are struggling to make ends meet. The imagine in my head of a weeping woman coming into Madonna Place hoping for some help because she can’t afford to feed her baby and MY FORMULA swooping in to save the day is worth way more than $100 or a chance to see a movie in a real theater.

At least it WAS, until I proudly handed over my bag and the girl behind the desk passed it to her helper and said “You can put this in the room with all the other formula. IF there’s any space left.”

Clearly the need was not a great as I thought. So much for feeling good about my generosity.

*Formula companies use the same marketing techniques as drug dealers. Your first few hits are free. On the house. No charge man, we’re all friends here.  Because then they’ve got you hooked, especially if you find the one magical brand that doesn’t make the baby gassy or spit up or scream his everlovin’ head off at meal times. I don’t care for them, those companies.