Dread

The Old Republic is coming out.

I'd rather rub steel wool over my entire body than play it.
Unfortunately, my other half is completely immersed in it.

I don't see any easy way out of this.

Babe-zilla

Painkillers and anti-inflammatories, I love you so.

I theorize that, as a mother, I can't possibly have any "new" experiences.
While that may be true, no one has documented the important things.
Things that should be recorded on the internet.
Things that should be in the baby instruction manual hospitals forget to issue.

Like "your baby will develop faster than your muscles, and unless you sold wet sand out of a clay jug carried on your hips for the past 20 years, you will die of pain."

But, as much as I want to chastise the anonymous world for discourteous behavior, Google tells me that my 14-month-old son is the size and weight of the average 2-year-old baby. So maybe it's just me.

Demon Baby

My brother gave me the awesome present of a baby video monitor, which is fabulous...but you can't tell me this image isn't terrifying in the dark of night.



"I KNOW YOU'RE THERE..."



"I'M COMING FOR YOU..."



"OKAY, I'M GONNA EAT THIS HERE SNACK, AND THEN FOR DESSERT, YOUR SOUL..."

I have no idea how he knows where to look. The camera is a tiny box on a shelf - nothing special.
HOW DOES HE KNOW? :D