Only woke up 2x last night!!!!!

Where the F is your belly button!?!?? OK, well let’s narrow this down… It’s either in moms breakfast or coffee or there’s a very high likelihood that one of the dogs ate it as a delicious snack.

Either way I’m stoked that tree bark looking thing is gone. How do people save those? You might as well save a dirty diaper. Same concept.

The only thing keeping me from not turning into a zombie right now is hearing Stef talk about Jax’ milk mustache.

So apparently tummy time stimulates brain activity and builds neck muscles. Great. What do you do if tummy time is the only time your kid sleeps?

Does it count as a selfie if someone else holds the camera?

I’m saying it counts as long as you have rubbery, floppy arms and legs and still have no dexterity in your hands and fingers.

Thank The Lord for cousin Lindsey and Henry for letting us borrow this swing. We can get about 7 minutes rest with you in here. NICE!

I’m not sure if Fisher Price meant to put so many speeds on this thing. It goes from light sway to Pirate Ship at Six Flags. I put Max in it the other night and almost got him to flip over!!! Challenge accepted.

I’ve been getting lots of comments on my window sticker.

Best one yet… “That decal makes it look like a 45 year-old single lesbian is driving.”

Sorry dude had to do it.

Sidebar: (Que the Sarah McLachlan music)

We had 2 pastimes when I was a kid, MAN HUNT and baseball card-trading. Our issues of Beckett Baseball Card Monthly were our bibles. I considered myself a major player on the neighborhood underground card trading circuit. It was an art being able to trade that Ken Phelps ‘87 topps error card for Mattingly’s ‘84 rookie. I remember holding in a laugh when I said, “I mean come on it’s the 80s and this Mattingly guy doesn’t even have a mustache.” (PS Mattingly was weird looking w/out his stache).

If negotiations broke down, my go to move was to sweeten the pot by throwing in a few micro machines I had laying around. After the deal went through, my buddy wouldn’t know he’d been ripped off until his older brother told him.

There’s no way to explain the amazing smell of a newly ripped pack of glossy Upper Deck or Fleer Ultras. It’s sad what’s happened to the baseball card industry. It’s even sadder that my son won’t feel the same joy searching for that hot new rookie in a pack of Upper Deck cards.

… or will he?!??