After being given the go-ahead by the doctor, Z and I bought 'Rad his first sippy cups today (they have yet to be tested out, but I have a feeling that day is going to be a messy, soggy one). We also moved him over to the 6+ month babas (MAMs are his favorite). No more "I love mommy" or "adorable" sayings on them. Nope, our kid is so cool and grown up that his pacifiers only have graphic designs on them. That is, with the exception of the glow-in-the-dark babas, which have moons and jumping sheep on them. We haven't used the glow-in-the-dark babas yet, but I already love them after a few nights of running to the kitchen to get a new baba because my man-handing of 'Rad and his crib in the dark turned up baba-less.
Since I only worked for a few hours this morning then took the rest of the day off with 'Rad to take him to his appointment, have a delicious birthday-month burger with Z (his birthday month, not mine), visit some old co-workers, and spend a couple of hours at Target, I declared today Hooky Day 2012. From this day forward, the first Friday of March is deemed Hooky Day and I invite everyone to join me. With the holidays over and the warm weather still a few months away, there's nothing better than taking a day off of work to do what you want to do, productivity be damned. Maybe next year, we'll leave 'Rad with Amy and really play hooky. We're forced to be so responsible and efficient all the time, it's just a good, random reason to not be any of those things simply because "I don't wanna."
There was something about this week that made it excrutiatingly long and difficult. I couldn't focus, I wasn't motivated, and I couldn't focus. Maybe it's the weaning off of breastfeeding thing that's making me feel nutzo (I'm really doing it this time - haven't pumped in about a week) or maybe it's the presence of things hanging in the balance. I just know that lately I haven't been able to talk in cohesive, coherent sentences, that when I do talk the words tumble out of my mouth like coins falling out of a broken piggy bank before I can tell if they're quarters, pennies, or dimes. I pray that there is a reason for my mental frenetic-ness and that I'm not, in fact, going crazy as I so commonly believe.
I'm pretty sure that you could fill up Bart Simpson's chalkboard with the amount of times I've called myself crazy. Anyone have a synonym for that? My lexicon is getting stale.