Lolo

Heidi has been working on her Ls. She's learned that they say "L-L-L-L" and not "y-y-y-y". This causes all sorts of confusion since the "y" sound still exists. 

For example, it took me five minutes to figure out that a "Lolo" is a yo-yo. 

Conversations with my 2 year old

Me: Rori, please get in your seat. 

Rori: No. 

Me: Yes, Rori, please get in your seat.

Rori: No. 

Me: Ooooooone... Twoooooooo... Threeeeeee... Fooooooooourrrrr....

Rori: Twenty!

Sassy pants

The world is getting younger

When I was in college, I remember laughing about how the freshmen got younger each year. Every September the babyfaced little newbies would take over the campus. Every year it was a shock.

But I've been out of the whole school thing for a while. My peers have been getting older at the same rate that I am, which means we're still all the exact same age. We're having kids because that's what the cool kids are doing ... man, some babies are having kids too. "What do you mean, you're pregnant? You're, like, 23. That's ... that's how old I was when I conceived my first baby. But you're just obviously way too young. Stop being silly."

There's a silver-highlighted woman using one of the computers at the university library. She's wearing mom jeans and carrying a massive tote bag. She is totally the right age for undergraduate classes. Of course. Why wouldn't she be? She's my age. The sunglasses on her head are stylish and I want them. Totally legit for college classes.

And a troupe of prospective college students just traipsed through said university library. They look like they still need help tying their shoes. I have to fight the urge to ask if any of them need to go potty.

Everybody needs to stop getting so darn young. It's really throwing me off here.

Bill

Tropical storm rain is the best sort of rain because it doesn't come with tornadoes. 

Bedtime 2

One baby snores in the bed next to me while the other snores in her crib across the room. The northernmost fringes of Tropical Storm Bill drum on the window. I'm sipping green tea with a generous helping of coconut sugar. The dim light from my laptop screen illuminates my fingers as they blather on about something having to do with tree trimming. I'm getting paid for this.

Facebook Withdrawal *twitch twitch*

I noticed that I was starting to exhibit some addictive behaviors regarding Facebook, so I decided to quit. Again. Only this time I didn't delete everything because I really regret that I did that last time. So I just put my goodbye note up, asked my dear husband to change my password and under no circumstances to tell me what he changed it to, and directed all my beloved Facebook friends and followers to my poor old neglected blog.

Which is probably just going to replace Facebook as my addiction. It's slightly healthier though because it doesn't have a Newsfeed. Or notifications. Or a million snarky political memes. (Seriously, that Donald Trump "We Shall Overcomb" one? Presidential race comedic gold, I'm telling you.)

So, to make a long story short, I'm quitting Facebook cold turkey and I am already starting to suffer. You might be able to tell by the fact that I'm rambling on with a blog post at 10:45 pm instead of going to bed ... because I'm used to being on Facebook and gosh darn it I can't handle it. I need my spoon-fed media like a junkie needs ... uh, their drug of choice. 

So I've admitted I have a problem and I've jumped straight to replacing that problem with another one which will hopefully have less positive reinforcement and far fewer addiction-fueling stimuli. Of course, the real purpose of quitting Facebook is so that I can focus on writing for my job, because every time I'm not typey-handsing in a Microsoft Word document I feel guilty:

But at least writing a blog post is more productive than scrolling through one's Newsfeed for hours, right? That's what I'm telling myself at least. Now please comment, because I'm about to get really lonely over here without my crack Facebook.

Bedtime

Nothing sweeter than going to sleep on clean sheets, with crickets singing outside the open window and a little boy hiccuping in his sleep next to you.