So here I am

I’ve started a post about Grover turning 2 months old and what an absolute trip the last 9 weeks have been. Except it turned into one of those Dear Son type numbers and even I was bored. So it’s sitting in draft form, such a rare thing for me, to sit on something like that. I’d normally just post it then keep editing it just to shit those of you following my intensely fascinating life through bloglines.
I have these gorgeous photos from Sunday (Father’s Day) of Chef and the boys and Chef’s dad with Grover and Chef’s dad with Grover and Chef and so on and so forth.
But Grover is going through a eating frenzy, awake all.the.time, and some sort of grunting farting pooing ode to the world as now? Now he follows me as I move across the room and wails if I go out of sight. Now he lies under his playgym and has gurgly gummy chats to the duck, ladybird and bird learing at him with their own goofy expressions. Now he is awake and not necessarily hungry but very interesting in this whirlwind child called Jasper who insists on practising his trampoline jumps from standing to bottom to standing again right.next.to.his.head. So there may be a level of fear keeping the kid awake all the time.
Anyway, I’ve also been busy on some new ventures over there –> on the sidebar. Originally it was Mum! What’s for dinner? but that was too limiting because I don’t need all the mom-nazis coming down on my arse for posting chocolate cake recipes and the like.
Not that there’ll be much of that for a while as I returned to Weight Watchers yesterday and so Operation Boombalardy is underway as well –> (I knicked the –> thing off Badger and am loving it, if perhaps you couldn’t tell). And no people, the “you just had a baby is NO excuse for being TWENTY FUCKING SEVEN KILOS out of the healthy weight range for my height. G’AH.
But there is no way this beloved blog of mine is becoming some hideous WeightWatch07 campaign, so visit Boombalardy for all the gory details if you must. There’s no comments over there as well, I just don’t need it, even if it’s all well intentioned. It’s an issue I have – that my mood/state of mind/whole being can turn on one well intentioned but wrongly taken (on my part) comment.
So, Grover has just slept for 40 delightful minutes and we are off to get.my.hair.all.chopped.off.
Mwahahahahaha