What's up with that?

Something is happening to me. Something strange and undesirable, on top of the stretching pains that have made me feel as if I got my bellybutton pierced. I mean, I don't know how that feels, but bebe girl is stretching me from the inside out and it's my bellybutton that hurts. I imagine getting your bellybutton pierced would feel something close to what I'm experiencing. Gross.
Anyway, back to the weird stuff. I recently dropped Little One off at a sitter's house. It wasn't until I pulled in the driveway at my next destination that I realized I was blaring Ole Susanna. For my own listening pleasure.

And now I must confess that I've been eating my fair share of Easy Mac. I know, kinda gross, kinda delicious. Well, today, I heated it up, poured in the powder, and proceeded to stir and then eat the entire bowl with a...wait for it...toddler fork. I only realized it as I loaded the miniature fork into the dishwasher. This girl doesn't discriminate, especially not when it comes to forks and easy mac.

Perhaps the little girl's daredevil tactics are taking their toll on my brain power. She got the forehead bruise when she decided to fling herself off from standing on the toilet seat. She headbutted the doorknob and unleashed some mega drama. Little One was hysterical. I was impressed.

Yes, friends. I am THAT vain. I purposely blurred out my goober face because I looked like...yes, a goober. I really just want you to see the belly.

In other news, I am under doctor's orders not to lift anything heavy. Little One is heavy. Like nearly 35 pounds. Therefore we've had to implement some assistive technology, if you will. To get in and out of the crib, I drop the rail (no, our crib has not been recalled) and slide the ottoman ("bottoman" as LO says) over. She climbs in, no problem. Back issues resolved. The end.