suspicions confirmed.

rabies.

We probably have rabies.

Just saying. It's most likely.

So apparently I should not eat thai food while nursing the baby. He had a hard morning with little to no sleeping. THen we went to the doctor and chunkfest now weighs 10 lbs. He's doing great. WE made our way to target because he was SLEEPING. He opened his eyes to poop once, but that's it. We came home and I put him in his swing and he slept more. I closed our bedroom door so the dogs wouldn't go in there (my little one has decided to eat breastpads lately... weird.)

He wakes up.

I sit in glider to feed him.

He falls asleep again so I just sit there and cuddle him.

I notice a brown spot on the play mat. I am like, well damn, a dog shit on the play mat.

Then it moves.

The dog shit moves!!

I FREAK OUT and go look at it and... it's a bat. a BAT. I had my baby locked in a room with a rabies infested, dog shit looking, EFFING BAT.

I'm the worst. mom. ever.

Ben has since rescued the invader and put him outside.

First road trip.

me, my sister and the griffster.
Poppy and Griffin
The boys
Glammy and her boys
Mary and Kate
Elliott rocking Griffin
Great-Aunt Karen
Great Grandmother, Tabo
Me lovin' my baby
Ben, lovin' the baby and the margarita.
Glammy and Elliott
Deana and Griffin
A family shot.

It was mostly successful! I rode in the back with the babe and was able to ward off the screams. Apparently, I just need to hire a driver and life will be easier. We headed up to DFW to hang out with the fam and to see Griffin's future girlfriends baptism. Couldn't have missed that! Here are some photogs.

Love Your Insides

Love Your Insides

So the weird commercial--please tell me you've seen it--is about being friends with your digestive tract. Then the person in the commercial is like skipping along holding hands with said digestive tract, and swinging it in the air etc. Weird. I don't like to think of my insides having hands or emotions. Then again... I kind of like the little catchy song of the commercial.

As a child in order to convince myself to eat my veggies (when my parents left me at the table until I had x amount of bites) I'd think that the veggies were sad if I ate one of them and I had to eat the others so they could re-meet on my insides.

I was a delightful weird child. Then again, my sister liked to take naps in her closet.

SO I never thought

That I'd milk myself.

Tech inventions?

So I thought I was interwebs savvy. Negative. Not until YESTERDAY did I notice that you can see if people comment back on your blog comments. Um yah... so if I've left a comment, and you've responded... I didn't know. oops. I'm slowly getting up to speed here.

I'm also wearing my engagement ring again. huzzah. I wasn't sure when my fatsy fingers would resolve themselves. Not sure that it's actually happened now, but I have forced the ring on. I feel it is a success. I also came up with whatever weird commercial was annoying me yesterday, but have forgotten again. I blame this on the fact that my in laws were in town (again--3x in 3 weeks) and I was running on 4 hours of sleep. Today, though, my baby has been sleeping for a long arse time (after screaming in the car) and I should be cleaning, but I'm blogging. I find this to be the reason for my need of a personal assistant. That and he shit on me this morning. Well, through his clothes, onto the boppy and my hand, technically. Whatever, I think I win because I lost a pound after I "used the facilities" this morning. I told you. I like to talk about poo. Then I ate 2 cookies and had a diet coke.

Tomorrow is our first road trip. Headed up to the parents house (about a 3 hour drive... I"m sure it will be all Gilligan's island-ish where we are stranded in the car for much longer than that... only I won't have a cool hat, there won't be a girl in cut off shorts, and I'll hope to make it out.)

There is a margarita in my future. I feel it.

Human Population/procreation

So, here's the thing. EVERYONE I KNOW is having boys! YAY for bff's for the Griffster, but holy crapstown, I'm a little worried about our future. I need to lay some claim on the ladies out there. Do a little arranged marriage set up. Something! Then again, maybe he'll be a 'mo and he'll be set with lots of manly options. Whatever, just make sure that when I'm old my highlights look good and I don't wear mood lipstick. You hear that? Otherwise I'll make sure you can't say your R's and you'll be Gwiffin fowevew.

I came up with something the other day to post about that wasn't baby related, but I can't remember what that was. It was some commercial that I thought was ridiculous, I remember that much, but not sure what it was tied to... What I do know is that I'm somewhat fearful of my child spitting up in my mouth, but not scared enough to take precautions against it. I'm kind of resolved to the fact that it will probably happen and I'll probably be ok. Gross. I know.

Whatevs. One month picture. How the hell did he become this old? (He's actually 5 weeks this week.) What I know... real smiles are just around the corner and another growth spurt that requires me to be topless. Maybe I can make a career of this topless thing and then I can stay home from work? Thoughts??