SuperCute Baby To The Rescue
Can I just tell ya'll how darn cute my baby is?
His powers of cuteness are so amazing. The pure distraction is a blessing.
Now, anyone who knows me KNOWS of my rather curmudgeounous ways. And to be fair, I am somewhat of a "Every Silver Lining Has A Cloud--Just Keep Looking" sort of person. In fact, this post was originally going to be titled "Crappity-Crap-Crap".
And with good cause.
I've had a hell of a weekend. Got something wicked nasty bad wrong on Friday night--we're still unsure if it was food poisoning or just your garden-variety gastritis. The soup was tasty, but was the seafood in it tainted, or was it the fact that the hot-and-sour flavor disguised the chicken broth? (Not so good on a seven-year vegetarian stomach) Or was it that I whined at Joe to get the soup when he might have already had enough on his plate and it feels a little like Instant Karma come and got me? So many questions I won't ever really know the answers to, except for the last one: I should have just been happy with my frozen burrito and quit my kvetching.
But let's not get mired down, no, let's get back to the cuteness. I've felt crappy all weekend but I've had a very cute little boy to keep me distracted and get my head outside myself. Can't just be miserable when you've got a drooly cutie smiling at you, wanting to sit in your lap, wanting milk. Or what about the fact that I've got a little buddy to nap with? And how can I feel like the universe is spitting at me when, in my hour of need, after a week of horrible sleeping, Joaquin's sleeping is so much better? We slept from 11-9 last night, and with only two interruptions, a far cry from the nights before. I tell you, I'm one lucky mama. Imagine being sick and having a baby as fussy and miserable as myself. "Good God--NOOOOO!"
So, SuperCute Baby, worthy of the cape, tights, and all that jazz. He has healing powers, that baby does. I feel better already.
His powers of cuteness are so amazing. The pure distraction is a blessing.
Now, anyone who knows me KNOWS of my rather curmudgeounous ways. And to be fair, I am somewhat of a "Every Silver Lining Has A Cloud--Just Keep Looking" sort of person. In fact, this post was originally going to be titled "Crappity-Crap-Crap".
And with good cause.
I've had a hell of a weekend. Got something wicked nasty bad wrong on Friday night--we're still unsure if it was food poisoning or just your garden-variety gastritis. The soup was tasty, but was the seafood in it tainted, or was it the fact that the hot-and-sour flavor disguised the chicken broth? (Not so good on a seven-year vegetarian stomach) Or was it that I whined at Joe to get the soup when he might have already had enough on his plate and it feels a little like Instant Karma come and got me? So many questions I won't ever really know the answers to, except for the last one: I should have just been happy with my frozen burrito and quit my kvetching.
But let's not get mired down, no, let's get back to the cuteness. I've felt crappy all weekend but I've had a very cute little boy to keep me distracted and get my head outside myself. Can't just be miserable when you've got a drooly cutie smiling at you, wanting to sit in your lap, wanting milk. Or what about the fact that I've got a little buddy to nap with? And how can I feel like the universe is spitting at me when, in my hour of need, after a week of horrible sleeping, Joaquin's sleeping is so much better? We slept from 11-9 last night, and with only two interruptions, a far cry from the nights before. I tell you, I'm one lucky mama. Imagine being sick and having a baby as fussy and miserable as myself. "Good God--NOOOOO!"
So, SuperCute Baby, worthy of the cape, tights, and all that jazz. He has healing powers, that baby does. I feel better already.
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