otter

Y'all? Rock. (Exponentially)

Y'all are the absolute best, EVAH.  Thank you all so much for the kind comments, I can't tell you how much they meant to me.  And of course, you are absolutely right, so the new goal is less guilt, enjoying the boy-boy exactly where he is and trying to minimize the self-flagellation.  (And more mojitos.)

We're getting ready to take off camping for the weekend, the big news on that front is that we have moved up from the pop-up into a drivable thingy.  Two points about that:  (a)  RV + dinner at 5pm = we are officially 74 years old now and (b) I ask you, who buys an RV when gas prices are higher than Paula Abdul on Idol night?  Idiots, that's who.

I must dash to go pack (hey, hooch doesn't pack itself), so I will leave you with a picture of the boy-boy and his new haircut, compliments of mommy:

"No, mommy's breath didn't have that evening smell when she cut my hair.  Why does everyone ask that?  Oh, well.  Hey, does anyone know how to change the amplitude setting on an oscilloscope?"

Dear Internet, I Suck

If I had a dollar for every time I have apologized to a friend/family member/blog buddy for my perpetual loser-hood about staying in touch these past few weeks, I could pay someone to act in a non-loserly fashion on my behalf, and y'all could love me again.  That sounds really nice.

By way of trying to make up a little bit of ground, here's a picture of the otterling, as requested by Bisous:

Lord, this kid is so much fun, I can't even tell you.  His laugh is the very best sound in the universe and he gives the very bestest hugs.  And he is also behind in walking and talking, which let me tell ya, adds exponentially to the general feeling of loser-hood here at the otter bloggery.

I'd post more, but I think I better get back to beating myself up.  We're on a strict schedule here. 

The Best Intentions...

Yesterday, hubby was fishing and his parents offered to take the boy-boy for the day to help out.  I had the best intentions of running some errands and then getting the house in order.  Truly.  I know it doesn't sound like something I'd do, but that was the plan.

As I'm dropping him off (and frankly being very tempted to chuck the whole idea and take him with me, as he crawled up into my lap and put his head on my shoulder in the sweetest, most mommy-meltingest manner you have ever seen), my mother-in-law hands me this article about a new store that has incredible deals on designer clothes.  And the bad seed part of my brain (the same one that says, "have another drinky" and "I know where we can hide the body") suggested that we go check it out.  And as I am a noted pushover for that part of my brain, away we went.

And, oh!  The clothes.  And shoes.  And the clothes.  I walked out with 4 dresses (2 Betsey Johnson, I lurve her), 1 sweater, a cami and a pair of ballet flats (Repetto!  I have been ogling those online for FOREVER.  And yet could not bring myself to cough up $220 for them.  (Because I have been coughing up lots of things this winter, but cash, unfortunately, has not been one of them.))  And at the end of the day, what should have cost me almost $1700 only caused a $350 shaped dent in my wallet.  (Yep, 80% off, I calculated it when I got home, because I am a dweeb. *insert geek snort here*) 

Ok, logical readers, you may have a point.  In all likelihood, I wouldn't have spent over $500 for a dress, so I guess I can't quite claim such astronomical savings.  (Yes, I can.  You shut up.  Else I'll sic that certain part of my brain on you and you know it knows what to do with the body...)