So it appears I’m starting a blog today. 

Lately it seems like my life is being orchestrated by a small person who’s incapable of putting on his pants and who firmly believes that shoving blueberries up his nose while being chased by a panicked woman is a fun time.  Thank God two year old boys can’t run for office – the world would be full of irrational dictators who think that a perfect day involves painting the dog green.  The bossiness (is that even a word?) is off the charts.  The other day small boy (going forward he’ll be referred to as “SB”) sat down on the couch and said, “Mama, bring me my dinner.”  It’s a good thing he doesn’t know how to snap his fingers or I’d be in big trouble.  I have alarming visions of SB 30 years from now, in a wife beater, yelling for his woman to bring him a Coors Light and a corn dog.  All because of me.

In the background, while I’m typing this, I keep hearing, “Mama, MAMA!!! Is Doc Hudson here today?”  I’ve now learned the hard way to NEVER tell a two year old that something’s coming in the mail – especially something coming from China via E-Bay.  Every day for the past week there’s been a discussion about how the mail works and every day for the past week he’s chosen to ignore me repeatedly and ask again if Doc Hudson’s here.  Like if he keeps saying the same thing over and over, it I’ll finally get it through my thick skull that he should be HERE. NOW.