My Blog.

A receptacle of the ridiculous.
A memorial to the mundane.
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I am tired. Annika was awake in the middle of the night, emptying her stomach all over herself, the bed, and the bathroom. I felt especially bad for her because she's still young enough that she doesn't remember the last time this happened. The uncertainty of what's happening to one's body makes an unpleasant event even more unpleasant. My Heart offered to go to the laundromat after work, for which I am thankful.
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Rebecca, for your thrice-asked question, here are three irrefutable answers.

one.

two.

three.

It's just one of the perks of feeding one's baby by God's design. (And don't worry, I've still got the pooch. I grudgingly admit my vanity in sucking in my stomach for the camera.)
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The recipes for fruit pizza and for sweet squash pickles are now on buildabelly, along with one for soft pretzels, which I'll make as soon as the girls fall asleep.
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If there are spendthrifts out there ready to waste some minutes, here's a fun place to visit. (Here's one of my favorites.)
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THE END.