Why do all superheroes wear spandex?

So, I managed to make it through all the Antique Roadshows languishing on the DISH DVR before Comcast came to tear down the little Empire that Dish had built in our living room. Arun has a nice patina now from being exposed to the warm glow of the TV for all those hours, although his provenance is suspect.

Last night, X and I went for a super fancy meal with Arun at Cassis (used to be Hannah's, now in a new location at 117th and Roe in Town Centre). It seems that our boy has a thing for French desserts. He also snarfed on carefully smash scraps of beef tenderloin, bread, pearlized onions and mushrooms. I have never understood why people are afraid to take their kids to nice restaurants. I say, take them early on so they learn how to behave. We just make sure to go around 5:30ish as not to interrupt/disturb the serious diners.

I have noticed that I seem to have a Shadow these days. Yes, Separation Psychosis is at hand. I turn around to see a little Monster furiously following me wherever I go all the while proclaiming “mmmmmMAmmmmmMA”. That's his new thing - when he is crying, he says that. Nah, I don’t think he KNOWS what he is saying, although my heart is cracking from the pressure because IT sure the fuck doesn’t know. Unfortunately, Sunday shoppers at Target probably think I am the meanest mother in the world as he cried that over and over and over while I continued on my business. Anyway, I just hope he gets over himself already because I really like to “meditate” in peace and quiet (preferably, with a the latest ragazine such as US Weekly, thankyouverymuch).

Oh, speaking of The Bad Habits that Befall Babies - what the fuck is up with this "must get up at 4:00 or 5:00am and TALK and CRAWL and blow RASPBERRIES and attempt to STAND. MUST STAND. Headbooard GOOD." Yeehaw. God help me when he discovers there is a Santa Claus.

Anyway, we are off this morning to our first swimming pool excursion. This SAHM business is a hard knock life sometimes.

Spank Me Like the StoreBrand Whore I Am

Awhile back, I had admonished X for having a storebrand shampoo in his Virginia apartment. I should have been clearer - what I was criticizing was the fact that it was a SAFEWAY storebrand. Had he picked up a bottle of Target or Kirkland (Costco brand) shampoo, I would have totally high-fived him. Lately, finding Target or Kirkland replacements for my favorite brands is almost becoming like a game. The most loveliest thing about the Target storebrand is that they tell you exactly who they are knocking off. These are my latest finds.

Bad Heir Day

I keep most of the pictures I take of Arun. Even the bad ones such as this one taken right after a nap. Might come in handy if he ever becomes a celebrity and he thinks he can cut off his Kansas bred mama.

My Own Baby Jay

I couldn't think of any good snarkastic commentary for this one because I was mesmerized by his sweet babyphat face and chunky monkey thighs.