Mormon Girl in the Bible Belt

So today has been slow.

Jack is fighting a cold and was up ALL NIGHT LONG. He was in bed with us most of the night, which sounds romantic but is really horrible because he's a total bed hog who kicks you in the face and pushes you off your side of the bed. He cried and cried and I rocked him and walked with him and it felt like having a newborn again. Which is not a memory I would like to revisit right now.

So I am tired today. I feel like I am one evolutionary step above a slug. And it's a small step.

Anyway, so at one point this morning I just wanted to totally sit in front of my computer and veg and let the drool run out of one side of my mouth and neglect my child for just three minutes IS THAT SO WRONG? Yes, apparently it is.

Somehow the thought penetrated into my brain sloooowly and with difficulty that it was really quiet. The bad kind of quiet, not the good kind where everyone is in bed and you are having time for yourself. I wasn't too worried since I have all my gates up and cabinet locks on and all that jazz, but I looked around the corner and my super fabulous husband left the bathroom door open after he did his biz, so sure enough, there is Jack, up to his elbows in the toilet. He is shredding toilet paper that he threw in to play with and splashing all over the place, happy as a clam.

I hollered in a really grossed out way and he looked up at me with a quizzical look that was like, "What, is this not okay?" I carried him away from my body up the stairs and tossed his behind in the tub.

At least afterward I got to rock him to sleep, with his baby body smelling so good and lavender-y. I love nuzzling my nose in his hair and kissing his eyelids as he drifts off. I have to do this now, because he's a boy, so it won't be long and he won't let me do that anymore.

Then I came downstairs intending to do all my chores but I was soooo tired that I made homemade salsa instead and ate Dove chocolates. What, is that not okay?

Jack, not in the toilet.