I was just discussing my blog with Mark, and we decided that I am boring right now. I asked him what I should write about, and he looked around the kitchen and then suggested that I write about a blanket. So he is a bevvy of ideas, clearly.
It's all Olivia's fault, really. If you want to blame someone for the suckage of this blog, blame her. When she isn't having horrid reflux, or dangling from her crib, or shitting on someone's floor? Well, I really have nothing interesting to say.
If I can't write about shit, near-death experiences, or vomit, what can I write about, ya know?
Olivia is great right now. Adorable, fun, easy(ish), growing like a weed yet still looking like a 3 month old at almost 7 months. Work is good. Marriage is good. My ass is too fat for all of my pants, but I have a Bella Band so whatever.
(The good news: now that I've told you how good everything is, it is all bound to go to hell. So yay! Blog fodder!)
Ugh. If you haven't clicked away already, which you should have because this post is awful and boring...
Tell me - what are you reading these days? Blogs, I mean. I purged a lot of things from my Google Reader recently. And by a lot, I mean that I went from 304 subscriptions to 27.