Mothering, you know, being somebody's mammy...nobody told me that being a mom is like a whole other shift that runs consecutively with and after work.
I love that kid. The bourgie babe is laughing, talking, babbling, falling out, carries buckets and baskets out the door thinking she will bring them to school. Loves bananas and long walks that involve running out of the yard and into the road. My friend says she's going to call the folks on us...but what control do I have over Baby Thanatos?
But I am so glad to be back in the real world again. Lord knows the social life has been in a definite down turn but I get geeked over my recent tour de forces to here, here, and eventually here in May and here in June. I made a promise to myself that I would still travel, do the friend thing, but still be a great mom and wife in between. So I trick myself into thinking that if I buy her the cutest things on Carter's clearance rack and make sure she gets her Juicy Juice and fruit newtons, she won't notice I'm gone that much. Can somebody tell this little sista I'm making up for lost time unlike this guy who may die an early death.
But through it all, she makes me laugh. She is quite the dancer, but I'm not sure if these guys are the ones who will lead the new dance revolution of the bourgie baby's generation:
NOT MY KID BUT SO LOOKS LIKE HER DANCING:
