Mommy’s Reign of Terror
In the past 48 hours I have managed to make the worst dinner ever created by a human, kill our laptop by spilling copious amounts of breast milk into the keyboard (it’s better not to ask exactly how that happened), knock our thermostat off the wall and get a sock trapped in our washer’s pump, effectively putting it out of commission. It’s a miracle Ben’s alive, really. Could I be any klutzier? What’s the opposite of the Midas touch? The Sarah touch? Sheesh! Anyway, as of right now, I’ve managed to not hurt Ben in anyway (the night is young, though) and he remains as cute as ever. Below are some photos of him graduating to his high chair (and wearing a cool Beatles bib courtesy of Uncle Karl and Aunt Sarah), hanging out in his Hugh Hefner pj’s with his Aunt Sandy (who normally doesn’t walk around with baby vomit on her shirt, honestly) and modeling his cool new shoes.
He just gets cuter and cuter and I don’t even mind the spit up I always seem to leave with. That’s why I travel these days with a change of clothes. Hope your Days of destruction are over! P.s. Did I happen to leave a sock over there? Maybe check the washing machine