Boy Crazy!

Ok, so this a term that we teased our girl friends with in junior high and maybe even high school. Well, that is me right now. I'm boy crazy. Just returned from the big corporate bookstore, where you now can request online to have your book waiting for you at checkout (kind of like the library-but you have to pay to take it home), with the book I need to read in a week for book club, and three additional selections. Three additional selections for me and not for me. For me in the sense that they are feeding my frenzy to wildly consume all things boy, and not for me in the fact that they are children's board books on trucks. Yep, trucks and tractors and trains. We laugh that my son name is half fitting, CARter, but really should have been CAR-Truck. And I feed him trucks. Maybe it's from my own amazement and wonder of large vehicles, or maybe it's because I have a fully engaged participant in such gendered activities.

On a side note because the baby is crying and needs tending, Motherhood can kill you. I forgot to eat breakfast and I'm likely to forget lunch before I run off to pick up Morgan after I do the dishes. And I'm exhausted! Ahhh... mama