Boys...

are stoopid. This is a long-standing fact, and one that I annouce with great frequency. However, they are also very nice to have around. So...I went out and found me one. No, it's not the "Doug" of whom I speak of so often, who many of you are quite certain I'm "going to end up with." I still love him greatly, but he actually was a crucial part of introducing me to "the new boy". For the sake of simplicity, let's call "the new boy" Clay. It's his name, and is simpler to type than "notDoug".

So...Doug introduced me sort of kind of to Clay through some friends who often hang out "at coffee". Coffee isn't actually a place in and of itself, but one might think so by hearing people talk about going "to coffee" or meeting "at coffee". Anyway, I'll move on. I met Clay, and thought he was a very handsome fellow, and thought he seemed rawther niceful, so I told Doug he should "hook it up". Doug, being the nice fellow that he is, suggested that Clay might ask me out. And so he did, sort of, in a roundabout way. We ended up having pizza one night a few weeks ago, and the date went very very well. (I'll insert a funny story here. Being a bit nervous about that sort of kind of pizza date, I asked my kids at school what I should wear. This turned into a REALLY funny conversation which ended in a unamimous decision that I should wear whiskers and a hula skirt.)

Since that sort of kind of pizza date went so well, Clay was smart enough to ask me out for a real date shortly there-after. And then there was another after that. And another... and now it seems that Clay and I are spending lots of good times together, with and without our other friends.

About Clay... He's a chef, and from what I hear, a very good one. I, however, wouldn't really know, because he's also really good at eating out, and taking me out for dinners. I actually had to tell him yesterday that our Epicurean Adventures needed to start including salads or my clothes would all stop fitting soon! He's taken me to some WONDERFUL local restaurants that I have never tried before, and he's GREAT at ordering for me when I'm uncertain (he even got me to try and almost enjoy Indian food!) He opens doors for me, says lovely nice things to me, and enjoys museums (we went to the Speed Museum yesterday!) and movies and games and all sorts of other things that I like too! He does lean toward the geeky side, but so do I in some ways, so we think that's a very good thing.

Mom has heard some about this Clay fellow, and Dad is smart enough to know that I didn't spend Valentine's day with the girls. I promised him a post about "the boy" soon, and so here it is. Everyone enjoy it, because as we know, my track record with boys is not so hot. So...if you don't hear much from me, just assume I'm busy having a lot of fun and going on Epicurean Adventures and getting to know this great guy!

And...that's all I have to say about that.

I broke the baby.

Really, I did.

It all started out innocently enough. I was wanting to see Cooper, and Cooper was needing a sitter for the afternoon, so it worked out perfectly. I headed to Cooper's house to get my Cooper fix for the first time in a couple weeks. We played and played and had the bestest of times. Mommy called to check on us and I told her we were eating peanuts and playing with staplers. It's not my fault she didn't believe me. She should have known that's what we really were doing. (I made sure to take some pictures for her to find later of us doing exactly that.) But anyway, that didn't break the baby. I'm much too cautious for that.

It all happened at dinner. Cooper was very excited about dinner (he gets that from me!), and was chowing down happily on one of those little microwaveable bowls of soup that comes with the aluminum pull-top and the plastic lid that you pop over that. He tanked the soup and signed hungrily for MORE! I scooted the empty bowl back on the table and ran for some more food. I tossed some crackers his way and started warming some veggies I found in the fridge. I ran back to the table and started shoveling the veggies down his ever-open gullet when I realized...Cooper had something on his hand. It's never surprising to find mysterious things on the hands of toddlers during dinner. The surprising part was that it looked like strawberry jelly. And there was NO strawberry jelly to be had.

It only took me a momentary glance to realize it was NOT jelly, but blood. I broke the baby. Apparently, while I was scrambling for more food, Cooper had grabbed the empty soup container and somehow managed to slice his finger on the metal edge. Way to go, Lolo. I shoved all of the food WAY out of the way, and dashed for a wet paper towel. Cooper was completely unaware of the fact that he was gushing blood. He was just concerned that I might try to pry the cracker from his hand. I washed up the bloody hand, and wiped off the bloody cracker, and let him resume eating his vegetables. But the blood didn't stop!!

I rushed Cooper through the rest of dinner and into the bathtub, with him smearing blood on everything along the way. He still had no idea he was hurt. He was basically just annoyed that his hand kept getting messy even though he wasn't touching anything. I thought surely the bath would help the matter. Apparently the bath just stings cut fingers. He held it up to me with a concerned look, so I blew on it. Blowing on the owie turned into a really funny game...but it didn't stop the bleeding.

After bathtime and jammies and all of that fun, I thought the coast was finally clear. Until I saw MORE smears of blood. I went for reinforcement. I had told CB some time ago that she really needed to invest in some Nexcare bandages. Unfortunately, she didn't listen. I had to use an old-fashioned Band-Aid. Cooper was not impressed. That band-aid was funny for about one minute, after which he decided he was done with it. It was working, though, so I had lots of fun distracting him until Mommy-Daddy came home.

I think this was fairly minor for a first boo-boo, but I didn't really care for the fact that it was on my time-clock. CB told me that Cooper was up to date on his Tetanus shots, but she did wonder if he needed any further care. I assured her that the soup can was not rusty so she could rest tonight.

This was a rather long blog, but if you made it this far, I guess you too care enough about Cooper to realize I feel badly. I'm sorry to the Pooper, and I'll make it up to him soon. He was a trooper.

Sometimes....

I just don't have much to say. I haven't been avoiding you all lately. Things have just been going really smoothly for me, and I've had no reason to come here and gripe. Furthermore, now that I'm working 5 days, I'm seeing much less of Cooper so I have little to report on the breaking of the baby. I miss him terribly. At least I know I can always call him on the phone now, though, and get a quick fix of, "HI Wowo!!". Occassionally I can even drag a few more words out of him before he gets bored with me and says, "Bye Wowo!"

Work is still going great. I'm still loving my new position.

Phase One of the financial makeover is almost complete. I'm headed to the bank in a few minutes to make that happen.

The new work wardrobe, which was fun and exciting for the first week or two, is now becoming tired and missing tennis shoes. (I have to dress business casual now.)

There's really not much else to report! I love my boring life. It means no bad things are happening!