That's horrible. I'm a shitty blogger. I'm sorry.
But please – get out your violin so you can play a sad tune while I attempt to explain where the hell I've been.
If it weren't for my school teacher friends on Facebook, I probably would have never known it was summertime, or that summer has (unofficially) ended. I mean, I knew it was summer (it was a million effing degrees out and my hair was one big ball of frizz), but we didn't do anything that I would call 'super summery' this year. I think I went in my in-laws' pool a total of 2 times. I saw the beach once (once!), and it wasn't until we were on vacation in North Carolina two weeks ago. I don't feel like I had a summer yet, so I'm struggling with accepting the fact that it's over and letting it go. Summer in September, anyone?
Our house looks like a show on HGTV gone wrong. We are finally doing the big construction project we've been talking about forever, and turning our garage into a family room and building a new garage next to that. The main reason is that Max has too much crap, and all of his crap is really big. Why is baby stuff so freaking big? I remember playing with wooden spoons and Tupperware, and being happy.
Between piles of dirt, our broken up driveway, large equipment and the fact that we have to park on the front lawn Sanford-and-Son-style, our yard leaves much to be desired. Today, I came home to the sprinkler on, continuously wetting a mound of dirt. We are now watering dirt. This place is a wreck. (But it's going to be awesome!)
Somehow, this kid is going to be a year old in a month. How is that even humanly possible?
I've stopped reading my weekly updates from baby websites, because they practically have Max driving a car at 47 weeks old. Max is a superior crawler, when he wants to be. And he loves laughing at the word 'no', which we believe he inherited from his paternal grandfather. I also think he's going to be left-handed, though he REFUSES to pick up any morsels of food and put them in his mouth. Inanimate objects? They go right into his pie hole. Actual food? He prefers to be hand fed like a Roman King by mommy and daddy.
But he's super cute, so we forgive him.
I actually started it!
I was going to publish a post with the Prologue, but then got cold feet. What if you hate the prologue? Does that mean you'll hate the whole book?
I even started one of the chapters, though Mr. KK isn't a fan of it, because the whole chapter revolves around this thing he does that drives me NUTS, and I totally call him out on it.
Vito the Wonder Dog is starting to show his age. He's been gray for a while, but now he's practically deaf. It's so heartbreaking, because he was always on alert. I swear that dog would bark at a deer in the woods two streets over.
Now, he has to be looking at you when you talk to him in order to hear you. He IS 13 years old, which is really old in dog years. Oftentimes we find ourselves screaming things to him like, "VITO.COME.HERE!" and "DO.YOU.HAVE.TO.POOP?"
In other wiener news, Max found HIS wiener in the tub the other night. He was fascinated. To quote Elaine Benes, 'I don't know how you guys walk around with those things.'