Today my cousin Patrick and his wife Jessica had a baby girl, Olivia. They are the couple whose engagement and wedding I blogged about, like ten minutes ago, and now here comes Jess with a baby carriage.
So we start off like Olivia, just a wee baby thing with closed eyes and little fists, and then in less than a year, we are like this.
I already have his birthday present, so Gabe, would you hurry up and turn 1? Dawdling.
The pictures of cute babies are my offering to you, as I have had a busy day and am done being productive and alert. Or rather, I am finished, not done. As my mother in law would say, "Cakes are done, children are finished."
I had a tennis match this morning (winning! tiger blood!), and then a bunch of normal stuff, and taking Hank to karate, and discussing Laura's day with her ("Mom," she said, "Some of my friends are having problems with their relationships so I'm trying to give them a little coaching," and she couldn't BE more my child. I swear, it's like she's still attached by the umbilical cord 'cause we are activated by the same impulses). Then I had another tennis practice from 7-8:30, and that is a gracious plenty of tennis for one day.
Then, just now, in my kitchen, I spilled a great quantity of my DoMatcha Organic 2nd Harvest Matcha powder all over the floor. I just stood there in disbelief as the unbelievably fine green particles settled down on the floor, the edges of the cabinet doors, the toe of my boot. It's the most expensive mess I could have made with the contents of my kitchen. I mean, I'm sure Studio 54 had more costly powders to clean up at their place, but gosh, seeing all that matcha on the floor hurt. Matt didn't seem appropriately grieved and so I told him that it cost thirty dollars a jar, which would actually be a great bargain, as the current Amazon subscribe 'n save price is $33 and change. Then I used two pieces of paper to scoop up a good bit of what was spilled--thankfully the floor was basically clean--and vacuumed up the rest. Let us turn the page on that chilling scene.
I am going to be in bed by midnight-thirty if it kills me. Six and a half hours of sleep is not the same as seven and a half. Oh not by a long shot. This is an ongoing issue for me.
What are you up to?