Abby’s not perfect. No one is. She’s good. She’s wonderful. She’s cute. But are you kidding me? She’s a toddler! She has her own personality. She has every bit the capacity to drive me crazy as any of my other kids.
We’re trying to get packed up to move. My husband, my loving loving husband, scheduled a cruise that gets back THE DAY BEFORE WE MOVE. I can’t be mad about a cruise (it’s for our 11th anniversary, and the first time we’ve ever done anything like this, I’m SO excited), but I sure can get huffy about having to get everything ready to go so when we get back, we can throw it in a truck and move. It’s hard. I hate it. Also, the property manager wants to start showing the house. So in the madness of packing, I also have to have it looking good, too. The girl is not making this easy. She loves to dump EVERYTHING. She pulls everything out of the drawers. Yesterday I caught her starting to dump the drawers in the kitchen (again) and yelled (because I have to, remember? She can’t hear me unless I year. It had nothing to do with exasperation at all) “ABBY!” at which time she “hid:”
And she uses sharks as utensils. Sharks! As utensils! And she cheats in grape games and whatnot (follow me @mostlytruestuff on Instagram if you’d like to see that story)
You know who IS practically perfect in every way? My friend Deanna. It’s her birthday. She writes a better blog than me. Way. Visit: Everything and Nothing From Essex and wish her a happy birthday, if you haven’t already. And shmooze over her damn cute kids.