Keeping it real

I would much rather give birth to a baby beluga whale without any anesthetic than to have muscles spasm in my back.

Truly.  I would.

And I think that Uriah would agree thanks to a particularly untimely spasm episode while I was in the loo.  He took that whole "in sickness" part of our vows seriously, thank God. 

Finneaus has spent some quality time in his high chair.  It's easier to lift him out of it than to bend over and pick him up from the floor, which usually involved some muffled (some not so muffled) colorful language.  Also, he's made climbing the stairs his summertime challenge.  If it's quite, it's probably because he's contemplating the summit.  Side note:  He can crawl faster than I can shuffle.

P.B.S. (Pre-Back Shit, not the television channel), I purchased some flowers with every intent of putting them in the ground and in some pots on my front porch.  Yesterday, I had to put them in the sink and water them because they were wilting outside.  They've moved from the sink to the counter.   

When he's not contemplating the stairs, Finn leaves a trail of toys in his wake.  He has the attention span of a gnat, tossing toys left and right when he's through with them.  Uriah came home after working all day (seriously, all freaking day) and cleaned up Finn's remnants, gave him a bath, helped Abby move something in her room and did the dishes.  Then he made himself some dinner.  And then, as if his day wasn't full enough, he gave me a back rub.  Does that qualify him to be committed to sainthood or just committed?

I, on the other hand, have been self-medicating with ice packs, icy-hot back strips, and leftover pain meds from when Finn was born.  Yesterday Abby helped with Finn by entertaining him and moving him around and carrying him up and down the stairs for me.  And probably because she wanted to get out of the house for awhile, she agreed to walk Finn on a field trip to the library to procure my standard summer reading list - the Little House on the Prairie series.  (They are my guilty summer-time pleasure.  I have read those books every year since...well, probably since I could read.)  Yesterday I let her keep all of the money she earned (instead of putting half of it in the bank).  You'd have thought she won the lottery.

I have not yet won the lottery.  But when I do, I'm going to hire myself a full-time masseuse to keep my muscles loosey-goosey, a full-time trainer to tone those bitches up so this doesn't happen again, and a driver, because I just don't really like to drive.  And I'll give some of it to the Beluga Whale Foundation, because those mama belugas deserve something!

I would much rather give birth to a baby beluga whale without any anesthetic than to have muscles spasm in my back.

Truly.  I would.

And I think that Uriah would agree thanks to a particularly untimely spasm episode while I was in the loo.  He took that whole "in sickness" part of our vows seriously, thank God. 

Finneaus has spent some quality time in his high chair.  It's easier to lift him out of it than to bend over and pick him up from the floor, which usually involved some muffled (some not so muffled) colorful language.  Also, he's made climbing the stairs his summertime challenge.  If it's quite, it's probably because he's contemplating the summit.  Side note:  He can crawl faster than I can shuffle.

P.B.S. (Pre-Back Shit, not the television channel), I purchased some flowers with every intent of putting them in the ground and in some pots on my front porch.  Yesterday, I had to put them in the sink and water them because they were wilting outside.  They've moved from the sink to the counter.   

When he's not contemplating the stairs, Finn leaves a trail of toys in his wake.  He has the attention span of a gnat, tossing toys left and right when he's through with them.  Uriah came home after working all day (seriously, all freaking day) and cleaned up Finn's remnants, gave him a bath, helped Abby move something in her room and did the dishes.  Then he made himself some dinner.  And then, as if his day wasn't full enough, he gave me a back rub.  Does that qualify him to be committed to sainthood or just committed?

I, on the other hand, have been self-medicating with ice packs, icy-hot back strips, and leftover pain meds from when Finn was born.  Yesterday Abby helped with Finn by entertaining him and moving him around and carrying him up and down the stairs for me.  And probably because she wanted to get out of the house for awhile, she agreed to walk Finn on a field trip to the library to procure my standard summer reading list - the Little House on the Prairie series.  (They are my guilty summer-time pleasure.  I have read those books every year since...well, probably since I could read.)  Yesterday I let her keep all of the money she earned (instead of putting half of it in the bank).  You'd have thought she won the lottery.

I have not yet won the lottery.  But when I do, I'm going to hire myself a full-time masseuse to keep my muscles loosey-goosey, a full-time trainer to tone those bitches up so this doesn't happen again, and a driver, because I just don't really like to drive.  And I'll give some of it to the Beluga Whale Foundation, because those mama belugas deserve something!