If you’re linking to http://beckyscorner.com/ee/index.php/shifts/, please update your bookmarks to http://misspriss.org.

I finally separated it out into its own account, to the pages will show misspriss as the address. I’m going to slowly move the archives over, but they’ll be here if you want to peruse them.

I’m going to be doing some rearranging here. If you get to this site via misspriss.org, things may be a little wonky over the weekend. For a long time, two of my domains have been under the same account, and I’m finally separating them because I hate how EE handles two domains.

Hopefully I’ll have it all straightened out by the end of the weekend. I certainly hope so!

I truly didn’t mean to go a whole week without saying anything. I guess I was just so… enamored of my four month letter. Okay, not really. I just don’t have anything funny or touching to say. I mean, do you really want to hear about how the kid pooped THREE TIMES while I was changing his diaper? I didn’t think so.

I’m working part-time, writing part-time. It’s a good balance for now. I work a split shift, which means I really don’t have enough time in one sitting to get more done than answering the 50 bajillion emails I get every day. Those darn students. So needy. (I kid.)

But I can at least show you what else I’ve been up to. I found some interesting urban legends about weddings. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to wear purple at my wedding. Oops.

And I’ve been following the Michael Jackson neverending Neverland story. I almost feel sorry for the guy. It’s just so sad.

Been busy drooling over the many properties of Paul McCartney, too.

Also? Grateful I don’t have terrible in-laws to blog about. Not in this marriage anyway.

Oh, and I’m totally going to have to restrict myself from Twitter. It’s too addictive. Although I have gotten some great reads from people over there.

What is YOUR week shaping up to be?

My dearest son:

As I told you before, I probably won’t be consistent at this newsletter thing. I’m too busy spending time with you, drinking in your eyes, mouth, fingers, and toes. I can’t get enough of your sweet smile, your dimples, and your giggles.

This weekend, we heard you laugh in your sleep. It was one of the most precious things we’ve heard. Ever. And I heard it again last night. I’m still mopping up the puddle of goo from my side of the bed, where I melted.

You are a snuggle bug. When I take a nap with you, you plaster yourself next to me. When I put my hand on you, you stroke my arm. But when your feet are pointed my way, watch out. You love to kick. You grin madly, flail your arms, and kick with abandon. You look like a little running man, but with no traction. It’s seriously cute. And you think it’s hilarious. So we let you kick us. Daddy and I both know we’ll regret that later.

I’m a little scared of your poop right now. I’m poop shy. You tend to fill your diaper up after eating, which is pretty typical. But last Saturday, after you pooped, I opened your diaper to change it. You started to pee a little as I wiped up the mess, so I covered you back up, getting poop all over you again the process. And then I heard a dreaded rumbling, and you started pooping again. At that point, I could only pray that you didn’t have gas, too. You finished, and I got ready to wipe again. You started pooping again. At that point, I got a little nervous that you’d start kicking and either get your foot in the mess or move the diaper and release a poop avalanche. I held onto your feet for dear life and you pooped yet again. At that point, I’m just praying the sides of the diaper catch everything, as I was changing you on our bed. On my side, no less. I must have used 15 wipes to clean everything up. I prayed the whole time: please don’t poop again, please don’t fart, please don’t poop any more! I’m still traumatized from it. When I hear you poop now, I cringe. Will the diaper hold? Who knew one little baby could produce so much poop all at once?

But I’ll manage anyway, because that’s what mommies do.

Time is picking up speed, and the days with you are starting to pass much faster than I would like. Right now we’re your favorite people in the whole world. You wake up with a smile for us. You grin when Daddy gets home from work and says hello to his boy.

I knew I would love you. I always have. But I didn’t know what an absolute joy you would be. I can’t get enough of you. I could stay home all day and do nothing but entertain myself with you, go for walks, play peek-a-boo. It just doesn’t get old. I hope it continues for as long as possible, this inability to get enough of you. I live for that smile, those snuggles, these giggles. I imprint them with indelible ink on my memory.

Love,
Mama

Last night, one of our cats was up on the bed with us. We just bought this little toy that is an airplane with a spinning prop on the front. It also lights up. Very cute. The baby is fascinated by the lights. The cat, however, wasn’t so sure about the noise it made. The prop is foam, so it makes a strange whirring noise when you hold it up against something. The cat backed away, clearly not liking the noise. She got to the foot of the bed, warily watching it. I moved my foot near her and made a noise at the same time. She bounced straight up a good three feet off of the bed and landed in the floor. It all happened so quickly that all J and I could do is laugh. It was the funniest darn thing we had seen all day.

Then this morning, I went into the kitchen to warm up some tea. I guess the other cat was crunching the cat food so loud that he didn’t hear me coming. I turned the corner into the kitchen and he shot across the kitchen, knocked the cabinet under the sink open, things inside flying everywhere, bounced off the cabinet and shot past me. I came back out and had to call him a few times before he would come near me. Every hair on his back was standing straight up. I tried not to laugh as I comforted him.

I think I’m going to give them both heart attacks some day. Quite possibly before they plot my demise.