The Mother of All Annoyances

I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that it would be wildly inappropriate of me to allofasudden switch gears completely and start rambling about my two-week-old. I mean, scroll on down and you'll see that this time last year, I was drunkenly blogging about lighting my kittens on fire. It'd stand to reason that someone who openly and publically puts her thoughts regarding flaming cats and patio bush fairies into the universe should never be allowed to have a child.

...AND YET.

So, I've decided to really shake things up and lament on various topics while under the influence of two different pain-controlling narcotics for the residual c-section stabby-feelings and severe sleep deprivation- the latter, of course, being compounded by choosing to blog away my nap time. Because you're supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps. Did anyone mention that to you? No, really. People are really effing serious about that little tidbit of advice. Just make sure you put that one under your hat prior to deciding to have children (or prior to having seven vodka sodas. Depending upon who you are.).

Essentially, this is your official warning that I had a kid and THEN the hospital let me take him home with me and now he's pretty much the only thing I talk about. So de-follow (is that even right?) homegirl now if you're not into that sort of thing. Because even when I'm not talking about him? I'm totally talking about him and tricking people into paying attention. Suckers.