As Good As It Gets
I don't have any knitting to talk about today. You know, I'm always thinking of blog posts while I'm driving Sydney to school and back. Then I get back to the computer and can't remember any of the great things I thought of to write about. I need to buy one of those little voice-activated tape recorders to talk into while I drive. Never mind that most of what I would get would be Sydney/Owen yelling in the background.
Poor Owen. Our dining room table is right at head height for him right now, and it's nice wood so we're loathe to stick any of those padded corners on it. So he walks into it several times a day (not a fast learner, this one) and gets really mad. When he gets mad, he'll close his eyes and scream, and in doing that he'll inevitably hit his head again. I feel so bad when I hear that little clunk. He has permanent bruises on both temples from this stupid table. I really am a bad mom, aren't I?
Speaking of the boy, I'm just got a whiff of something unpleasant as he toddled by... The barfing seems to be over for the moment, but the poop never stops. How I love parenthood!