The Childrens Place

. . .Old Navy, Macy's, Carter's. The list goes on. These are just a few of the places I've gotten clothes for Logan since I bought that Carson Palmer jersey way back in December 2007. I just packed up the rest of his 9m clothes and most of his 12m clothes. He needs about 5 little brothers to wear all this stuff. Despite never paying full price for any of it (I've gotten some really good deals) I can't help but feel like between his closet and the 5 (yes 5) bins full of stuff he's outgrown we've got a nice down payment on a Ford Focus. Oh well. At least he looks good. ;-)

The Curse of the Odd Number

A friend of mine once told me that she only likes even numbers. I think there's something to that. For as long as I can remember as a rule even numbered years were mostly "good" years and odd years were "bad." 2009 is living up to its number. Here's a recap of just a few things that have happened this year:

• January--my car died

• February--our baby-sitter tells us she's knocked up and due at the end of the month, giving us little time to scramble and find a temporary replacement

• March--my husband lost his job

You get the idea. Yet, as down as I've been about these and other situations I can't bring myself to put 2009 in the "Worst Years Ever" category. The reason is simple--my kid. Even if he's in teething hell, tantrum hell, or just being plain onery my little boy makes me smile every single day. No year with Logan can be THAT bad. He brings me a constant joy I've never felt before. So as I'm continuing to muddle through this shit heap that is 2009 and all I want to do is crawl in a hole and cry, I think I'll go have a snuggle with my boy and read "Hop on Pop" for the millionth time.

2 "Holidays" . .

. .I've never celebrated are St. Patrick's Day and Cinco de Mayo. The more people I meet the more I realize I'm in the minority. It honestly never occurred to me. If I'm Irish I don't know it, I took French in high school, and I don't like beer no matter what the color. I wonder if this makes me culturally narrow-minded, lame or both. . .

It's a Weird Feeling . . . .

to love my cats with all my heart but want to kill them at the same time. It happens multiple times a day but it all comes to a head around 8:15 each evening when Kyle is putting the baby to bed. 4 cats and a soon-to-be toddler? I should apply for sainthood.

Chivalry is Not Dead

Today I stopped at Sam's because Kyle left the car on empty and a worker came over and offered (felt more like insisted) to pump my gas. He told me that although many things changed, that chivalry is not dead and this is how is mother raised him to be. I looked at my sweet, sleeping boy and hope I am raising him to be the same way.