Well, I have started a wonderfully spiritual, confessional, and downright swelly written blog entry, but I am so dang tired that I can’t do squat to finish it. In fact, my brains are so near to mush that I should call someone to sit here with my boys so they don’t have to fend for themselves anymore today.
Here’s what I can give for an update. I told Ike to not talk to strangers and scared the poowaddle out of the poor child. He won’t go outside at all because he thinks someone will get him. He has cried way too many times about that and the fact that our dog, Miles, won’t play with him, which I have told him is because dogs don’t like whiners, which hurt his feelings.
Jude can climb out of his crib and be downstairs in about 10 seconds flat. It’s olympic. I’m going to have to put him in a baby kennel to keep him from breaking his neck. This is what I get for talking bad about those people who put their kids on a leash.
Ian is literally sucking me dry. I won’t give any details besides that. Just know that I drink water all day long, and I am eating like a gigantasaurus rex.
I want to think about deep things and make a new metaphor today, but I can’t because Ian drank my brain. This is cliche, but it is true.