clean floors, dirty paws

We have off white kitchen cabinets that are covered in oatmeal, blueberry goo, yogurt and god knows what else finger prints, but one thing they are not, is baby proofed.  The cabinets have cute little knobs that he can easily open and the drawers have pulls that has not quite figured out, whew.  So the drawers are not a problem as of yet, but the cabinet doors, yeah, a problem.  We don't keep anything "dangerous" in any of the cabinets, and he is rarely alone in the kitchen longer than a few seconds, but I don't really like bulk lentil beans spilled on the floor.  I was finding those little bee-bees hidden in various corners of the house for weeks.  Yes, I KNOW what you are about to say.  Babies are fast!  ANYTHING can be dangerous to a baby! You are a horrible parent!  RUN to Babies R' Us and buy those baby proofing cabinet things that even a fucking rocket scientist can't get into!  WORK FOR YOUR FOOD, WOMAN!   I don't want to!  I HATE them!  Abo

I don't even know why I am bothering to write this, maybe it is just to make myself feel better.  For some reason the past few weeks I just can NOT focus enough to write a damn post.  I sit down all ready with some clever idea in my head or with the intention of uploading pictures and then I just flat don't do it.   And I don't even have an excuse!  The I'm tired excuse is in and of itself getting tired!  Nobody cares anymore, including me.  It's just the way it is right now.  Sure it that has something to do with it, I mean I'm literally in mental candy land half the time.  That, along with the fact that I only get 15 minute increments in which to write, just isn't cutting it lately.  I need more time, more uninterrupted time to actually conjure up some creativity.  The other day I told Ryan I was over writing, I was going to take a break and that the chances of anyone even reading this anymore were slim to none.  He basically told me NO.  Well, he told

If only Abner were a Boxer this would be perfect... Poor sweet bulldog's back is acting up again.  Friday morning he went out to pee and poop as usual but when I wiped his butt, yes I still wipe his butt after every single poop, I noticed he wasn't quite acting normal.  Now, there is really no such thing as "normal" with a bulldog, but he at least has a range or normal; This wasn't it.  His ears were back and he was still, soon he started shaking and panting.  I knew it was his back right away. I gave him the prescribed in case of emergency muscle relaxer, pain killer cocktail that I kinda wish was for me and called the vet to make an appointment.  I felt an immediate rush of sadness and money leaving my bank account.  Luckily Ryan was home that morning and sat with him quietly as I chased Cache around and went about our routine.  Caches hardly knew what to do with his toast not having a bulldog trying to sneek it out of his hand every two seconds. At the ve

Caches Michael, You are 12 months old, one whole year.  Well, your birthday was actually last week, but I was really busy with your party and your "OH MY GOD I MUST WAKE UP EVERY HOUR AND SCREAM" so I didn't post, sorry.  Son, I don't even know where to begin about this year.  I should probably start by holding back the water works, it's not easy to type through tears and snot.  What a year baby boy, what an absolutely life changing year full of soul searching, personal growth, insane amounts of love and mind numbing exhaustion.  Did I mention THE EXHAUSTION?!  Seriously son, could you give mama a break? If there were a picture in the dictionary under the word passionate, it would be of you.  Caches you KNOW what you want and you go after it with an intensity that is unlike anything I had experienced before you.  If you wake up and want a boob, damn it there had better be one bedside in 2 seconds or someone is losing their head!  You don't make requests, y

Caches is ONE! We kept him alive for a whole year, so we had a party! Thank you to everyone who has supported us on this wild ride.  

Over the course of the day I invested at least an hour or so writing a post about sitting in Abner's vomit and somehow, someway it was lost just as I was about to hit "publish."  You know how difficult it is to get a post written around here...DIFFICULT!  I'm so annoyed but I'm not going to attempt to rewrite it.   I'll just give you the highlights.  Caches was a hot mess last night and was extra sleep this morning.  Got him down after an epic battle of wills.  Microwaved my coffee for possibly the fifth time and sat down to drink it...in Abner's vomit.  Cleaned up vomit, changed into my third pair of yoga pants for the day, sat down again.  Cold coffee... Shit