Hey January

It’s been a while since we’ve hung out. But, I have to say, I’m glad to see you again.

This year will mark the year V turns three. The year I *really* feel like I need to have another baby before my uterus turns to dust (aka 35). The anniversary of Edward and I meeting 9 years ago in Japan. Actually, it’s in 3 days.

January is always a month of mystery. All of the things you have promised to do and not do. Attempt and not even try. Ignore and love. It’s just a whole month of try, try, try. And try. Right? RIGHT?

Well, let’s just say that there is a whole lot of trying going on. So much, one can feel the change going on in the air. It’s electric.

It is B12 charged.

So here is a few things that I am apparently ringing in the New Year with.

Pro-Fries. Anti-Daddy. Pro-Daddy. Anti-Daddy. Pro-Daddy. Anti-Fries.

And, well, more of the same type of argument.

And then a surprise reappearance of monsters in the bedroom. Oh gosh. Monster spray, god bless you. Since using you for the last 3 nights, bedtime has been much much better. Since Christmas, V has been very better. True!

And well behaved. Which is surprising since we now only have one baby gate. ONE

ONE.

V ripped out one of the gates poles this past weekend, which left a huge hole with ragged wooden edges. So the bottom gate has now become the top gate. And we have no bottom gate. And I gave birth to, well, I’m not sure. But he’s strong. Very strong. Or he’s 2. Either one. Or both.

Yesterday he fell down 5 stairs.

My response! “Oh man! I’m glad that happened!”

Edward: “…..”

Me: “No really! Learning experience.”

Since then its just been a constant CONSTANT conversation of: “Hold the railing V! Hold it! You don’t want to fall down! Let’s be careful. That last fall was a little scary.” “Yes Mummy. Wittle scwary. Its wittle scwarry. Be careful”

And then we fight about it. Then V cries. Then some more fighting. Then some more (mostly fake) crying.

And then, after, we fight some more. For fightings sake. Because that’s what children do with their parents. (Sorry Mum really.)

French Fries. Stairs. Edward. Falling. Electrictickle (what?)

*eighties sound effects slash running music*

Well, whatever is going on in your house. It might be the same thing that’s in mine. You just might not admit it.

Hm. Well, Edward and I are admitting it.

We bless your New Years resolutions times a hundred. As all resolutions should be.  And we share our loving.

xoxo

A.M. (capital)  all the way.

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