My little cannonball

He's 100% destruction and he's one year old.
Actually, he's 14 months old, but momma's having a hard time getting anything done on time. He's lucky we even celebrated on his actual birthday, since we're running at least an hour late these days...or in this case, 2 months.

Get on it...

Dude, I need to blog. When nutty things happen and they don't fit in a tweet? Blog. When I'm talking to a 14 month old and I just don't feel like he can wrap his head around my inner conflict between being a modern mom and also realizing that I spend a lot of money on fancy cleaning supplies and aprons and I'm like, what the hell happened to my life? Blog. When I'm full of pain killers from the nightmare that was "the day I was up all night with a toothache that rivaled labor pains and had to take more than the recommended doses of two different types of pain med in order to find enough relief to sleep/slip into a coma and then wake up to the news that the family's 14 year old golden retriever had to be put to sleep and after that I got to go to the dentist and have a root canal and then come home and make a baby dinner". You know, that day. Blog.

So, yes. Blogging. I need to get on that.

Tomorrow.