The Peanut decided to cap off his bruised head (ugh, it goes down his nose and slightly affects his eye area) with a split lip, which he got by walking into some bars at the playground. Ugh.

Because we work at home and most nights are spent here due to our inability to find a babysitter (sigh), a lot of the time I feel like we live in a vacuum. We read the news, listen to NPR and watch the Daily Show and Colbert (hello funniest thing on TV), but I still wonder what we miss by not going into an office or taking very many in-person meetings. We’re no longer forced to look work-presentable every day, so if we don’t have any plans, we usually end up in PJs all morning and take showers after lunch. When we do leave, it’s usually a mad scramble to not be late, as we’ve become so accustomed to our own time that having a set time to meet other people is a challenge.

I often wonder what will happen when the Peanut starts going to school. My parents worked all the time, so while there were some days my mom drove us to school in a robe, she never picked us up in anything less than full work gear – makeup, heels, jewelry, perfume (she smells lovely), etc. She always seemed quite glamorous, to us and to our friends. There’s still a guy from my class who asks me about her whenever I see him – he used to flirt with her when we were in high school and she thought it was adorable, lol.

Neither the Chop nor I will end up picking the Peanut up from school in heels, but I do have a goal to never pick him up in sweatpants or a bathrobe. We’ll see how that goal pans out.

The Peanut is currently sporting a massive bruise in the middle of his forehead. The bump is large, but the bruise is what’ll stick for awhile. He was playing in the curtains, the Chop and I laughing and Skyping his mom, and boom, with curtain wrapped around him, he ran straight into the wooden window ledge. The sobbing was immediate, as was the now-dubbed unicorn horn.

I realize that this will happen regularly for the rest of our lives – but man, I wish it wouldn’t, lol.

I grew up in a relatively religious environment, one with pretty strict rules about right and wrong, regular church going, private schools and the very strong belief that everyone else’s beliefs were wrong. Which is the main reason I am in love with the new show GCB. It’s soapy and campy and obviously exaggerates every aspect of each character (it’s always so entertaining to me that not one person is ever just “normal” on a TV show), but there hasn’t been one episode where I didn’t think, at one point in the show, oh yeah, been there.

Plus I love Kristin Chenoweth and Annie Potts is hysterical.

This week my aha moment came during a church function for singles – where the married women wanted to take the “sin” out of being single. It has been my experience that when you are an unattached female in a church, unless you’re quite young (or quite old and widowed), everyone assumes your goal is to get attached. And if it isn’t, it should be. Because God wants you to be married and produce children. That’s what you’re here for, after all.

We just found out that one of the Chop’s sisters is pregnant – only five weeks, so we are not allowed to discuss it yet – but oh man, I am so excited. The Peanut is going to have a cousin near his age – and even though they live rather far away, we’ll still see them once a year. The Chop is currently on the phone with her and they’re discussing names – hilariously two of the names for girls are on our list as well – and vitamins and baby Bjorns.

I’m of course interrupting repeatedly and debating how soon I’m allowed to start sending stuff. I have a plethora of gift ideas now that I’ve had a kid – good, very good, awesome gift ideas – and at this moment, one dear friend and one sister-in-law just have to find out what they’re having so I can start sending stuff.

SO FREAKING EXCITED.

It’s been awhile since I watched a movie and laughed until I cried (while sober). Cedar Rapids just accomplished that quite handily.

There are moments when the Peanut looks so much like the Porkchop that it takes my breath away. Aside from the looks, we see shades of his personality beginning to shine through, and movements and facial expressions that are straight from his daddy.

Then I make him giggle or squirm and he looks just like me.

I read an article today that said the reason older people listened to older bands is because you stop enjoying new music as you get older. You don’t get the same rush of dopamine when you hear something new as you did when you were young.

I hope when I’m old they’ll have fixed that problem.

When we first started going to the baby gym class, the Peanut stuck close to us. He sat in our laps during the warm up and the introduction; we carried him willingly to do the group activity and during free play, he usually stayed wherever we set him down. These days he’s off like a rocket the minute the door opens. He’s uninterested in staying on the big red mat, choosing instead to walk and crawl up and down the gym equipment (he loves the wedges). The warm up and introduction go as usual, with the teacher pointing to him and waving. He smiles and watches, but stays where he is. There’s obviously way too much for him to explore to waste time with us.

Today his teacher (whom he just adores) set up an obstacle course on the mat. Several hula hoops and rings to crawl through, all while on top of big blocks. As the other toddlers milled around, some banging on the blocks, others refusing to move once placed on top, we grabbed the Peanut and placed him at the beginning. He looked at us, turned and proceeded to crawl perfectly through the entire obstacle course, before jumping down and going back to his wedges.

We were shocked, but clapping, and we grabbed him again. Like a mouse to cheese, back through he went, not once veering off course or getting distracted. His teacher was impressed, and the Porkchop and I smiled a little and shrugged, noting that it must be all the playground time he gets.

Granted, once we left we talked about it nonstop and gave ourselves high fives. Whoop, whoop, parental pride baby!

My memory, never that good, has suffered greatly since the Peanut entered our lives. I’m assuming it’s lack of sleep, but perhaps it’s also affected by having someone else to worry and think about. Nonstop. Because that’s what parenthood is – an unending state of constant attention, sprinkled with concern, panic and terror.

While driving the Peanut back from the park, I had a very funny conversation… that I don’t remember at all. Which is sad, because all I could think was, “Ooo, I should write this on the blog.” What the hell? Five minutes ago I opened a browser window and promptly forgot what I wanted to look up. Thoughts flit in and out of my head with no rhyme or reason, and unless it’s Important Shit, I don’t remember it. Work stuff – no problem; baby stuff – no problem; anything else – it’s a crap shoot.