Ever seen a look of satisfaction quite like that before? Thank you Obama for helping us catch the elusive Big Foot!
I'm so happy I could squeal. And have been for the last 24 hours. It's starting to hurt.
Despite the look of happiness and balance above, little guy is still on a rather rigorous sleep strike. I have easily aged 5 years since this weekend. It appears that Mr. M does not like it when I tend to my own affairs such as peeing, tooth brushing, showering, sleeping, breathing, or eating the occasional piece of stale bread. I feel like a hostage with Stockholm syndrome. I've chosen to fall in love with my captor to avoid the deep rooted madness that is hovering around my head like a horse fly. Seriously, I never thought I could be brought to the brink of crazy quite like this. I've brought in reinforcements; Nonnie is here and loaded Mr. M up in the carriage and they're off to Guam or somewhere near there. In the meantime, I'm slipping in a quick blog entry, and checking in on poor Ellen Degeneres who must be so friggin pissed that California has proven itself so backward and bigoted. I mean the other half of California that I never met when growing up there. Cruel and unnecessary.
In the meantime, cheers to my sweet sweet crush Obama and a year where I don't feel the urge to say I'm Canadian to seatmates on international flights.
David and I live in the big cold blast known as Chicago. We have two delightful doozers, Daisy and Ulysses. David is one of those lawyerly types, and I muddle around in the non-profit world. We are in the process of bringing home a delightful baby boy named Misho. Welcome to the Big Woo!