Me & Poops McGee

So, I start a new Blog on a Friday only to find over the weekend that somehow I can't seem to post from my home computer. I'll have to have my nerd computer networking friend try and fix that.

Aside from the Super Bowl and a bit of sledding on Friday, it was a pretty low-key weekend at our house. Hubster worked and I didn't. (I have a M-F job first shift, he works a rotating schedule second shift. Its nice in that we don't need day care, but stinks in that we don't see each other much. ) So I was with the boys most of the weekend by myself. With all of this snow we've been getting, I'd rather step on legos barefoot than wrestle the young ones into boots and mittens just to get out of the house. So we hung out. Don't ask where the time went.

But the baby is teething again. Know how I know? Both my kids get the poops when they're teething. Thankfully, the older one has all of his teeth (he's three) but the baby is 11 months old and EEEEWWW. Why is it that the days he craps himself to the point where you wonder just where that all could have been stored inside his teenie body not once but TWICE are the days that I'm at home? Is there some sort of cosmic force at work? Do I give off some hormone that signals its time to "let go"? Is he really not a toddler but an evil genius? It's ungodly. He got more from his father than just his eyes.

All poop aside, I've recently been made aware that you're not anyone until you post a "100 things about me" in your Blog. Lemme just put that on the ol' "to do" pile. Seriously? 100 things? Half of it might just end up being things like, "I have two legs."