- I hate political ads. I would like to introduce a law that states they may only run a certain number of times per day, and that they must be about the candidate who sponsors them, not their opponent. Or maybe I’d just outlaw them altogether. But to do this, I would probably have to have TV ads. Damn it.
- There is a sweet little spot behind Olive’s ear where the hair is just unbearably soft, and I kiss it about a zillion times a day.
- I have resorted to sniffing my daughter’s derriere on occasion to determine whether she needs a diaper change. I swore I would never do this.
- There is a basketful of clean towels awaiting my attention in the bedroom. They’ve been there three days, and I’m not holding out particular hope for them tomorrow. I have, however, emptied the towels to get to the folded clothes underneath, but then I just put the towels back in.
- I delivered Olive two months ago and I am still not fully healed or recovered. I did some online research and was mortified to learn that it takes some women over a year to fully return to normal functioning status. This made me cry.
- I have spent the entirety of those two months with Olive (save perhaps two hours of store runs while Jeff has watched her) and it’s not enough. Olive as a permanent fixture on my left shoulder, nuzzling her soft little head under my chin and resting her tiny tush on my left forearm would be a perfectly amenable option for me. I’d just need some heavy duty lower back support, like people who work for UPS wear.
- Autumn gives me this nearly undeterrable urge to buy school supplies like notebooks, pencils and pens. It’s taking about all I’ve got to withstand it.
- Staying up this late to blog brings back childhood memories of staying up and reading under my bedcovers by flashlight long after bedtime. It’s delicious, but carries a certain amount of guilt. And if anyone tells me I should be sleeping because she is, I’ll smack them.