I recently pulled Mia's old exersaucer out of the basement and scrubbed all the old baby puke off of it and turned it over to Owen. And man, second only to lactation that is clearly the best thing I have ever done for him. He works his way through the toys like a high-powered executive muscling through his to-do list and occasionally barking at a secretary who is too slow at wiping the pools of drool off of his chin. Ok, so the comparison breaks down a bit, I admit.
Results from yesterday:
1) True. College. Vodka shots. Just thinking about it still gives me a headache.
2) False. I've never had sex in a car.
3) Yes and no. Here's my tramp stamp:
In case you can't tell from that fabulous picture, it's a birthmark right where a tramp stamp would go. So sure, you may have chosen the "trampy" tat, but I was born that way. This is very visible in person, but barely shows up in photographs. Someone cue the creepy music. And don't get upset that I posted a picture of my ass on the internet - I know it looks like I should have cropped a bit more carefully, but I promise it is a trick of the light. It's low, but not that low.
Finally, Mia wants all of you to have a kick-ass holiday weekend. At least, she would want that if her Mommy allowed her to say things like "kick-ass."
We leave for the beach on Saturday. 2 kids + 1 week at the beach = 6 different kinds of diapers. Lovely.