Notes from Crazyville

So, it’s crazy cold. We're all going stir crazy. We’ve all been cooped up quite a bit, so here’s what’s going on in La La Land.

Last night at dinner we had soft tacos. After eating all the filling out of her shell, yes she is my child and sometimes eats things in pieces. Moving right along… She picked up the shell and bit holes in it. She lifted it up and called it her mask. We were laughing so hard that we couldn’t tell her it was rude to play with her food. I even went and got my camera. Bad parenting I know, we’re working on it.


Then today Justin decides to grill hamburgers. It’s literally freezing, in the teens, and he thought it would be better to have them grilled because it tastes better. I have photographic evidence of his crazy grilling. Note, if you ever attempt this—it takes longer than usual to get the burgers done because, well it’s FREEZING!


That brings us to the baby. I know she’s one, but she’ll be the baby until—I don’t know until when. Anyhow. She’s been on a kick where she doesn’t want to take a nap. The second we go to run errands though, she’s out. I wind up dragging her sleeping out of her car seat. Often she doesn’t even wake up. I’ve gotten pictures on two separate occasions, though it happens with more regular frequency, of her asleep in the chair at home after I brought her in and couldn’t get her awake right away.


Oh me? How nice of you to ask. I’m freezing. I grew up in a warm house, here it’s stinkin’ cold. 67 degrees. Brrr. I wear socks and shoes. In the house. [side note--I hate shoes and socks.] I tell you it’s getting out of hand!