Yes, that is my child hollering it out during Tummy Time on his mat.  Poor bug.

I pride myself in being a good housekeeper.  Even a fantastic housekeeper.  & a decent cook.  I am no Martha Stewart, but I can hold my own against a bevy of housewives.  Yet my once fastidiously clean home has been ransacked.  I used to welcome anyone to eat off my floors, but now, we’re lucky to simply see them.  A screaming baby is simply not conducive to any household details, including cleaning, laundry, or grocery shopping.  Which explains why we ordered a pizza last night & have no cream for our morning coffee.  It also explains why Christmas presents are still a hot mess on the kitchen table & we’ve been tripping over decoration bins for almost a week.

Thanks to this innocent-eyed little guy & his never-ending quest to let the entire universe bow to his presence:

Who, me?!?!