I wish it would rain. Not just a little rain, but days and days of cool, gray rain. Apparently drought has a psychological effect on me; I feel myself drying out with our dying grass. When we first moved to Tennessee, we thought, "Man, it rains all the time here." This summer definitely proved us wrong!
How cute can an 11.5-month-old baby with stick-uppy hair and mustard on the sleeve of her onesie be? Just about the cutest thing I've ever seen. At the moment she's walking around with a Binky in her mouth, a block in her left hand, and she's dragging her pink fuzzy Blankie with her right hand. She loves to carry things and walk back and forth from the living room to her room. And shriek at the top of her lungs. I think the dogs of Kentucky can hear her.
My life has changed so much in the past year and a half - and it has definitely improved. My health may not quite be what it was, but I wouldn't trade my job for anything. Except for those days I want to stamp her little forehead with "Return to Sender" and stuff her in the mailbox.