Well, this blog pretty much ended the day I started it, huh? I had big plans for it, but then work got crazy, and I just didn't have time. So...I'm back and hopefully will be keeping this up to date from now on.
Gehrig is now 13 and a half months. He is constantly into stuff. Belts and clothes are his favorite things to play with (lucky for him, his daddy leaves plenty laying around for him to get *grin*). Whatever he gets, he puts around his neck (of course, the best place for him to put stuff). He's usually not allowed in our room, but if he sees the door open, he makes a dash for it before we can close it. The other day I didn't notice he was in there until he came out. He just came strolling out:
He keeps me busy!
My big thing now is cloth diapers. I've gone crazy for them! They're so cute and fun, and they save us so much money! I'm a big advocate. *smile*
Well, that's it for now. I might be posting again a little later because I actually found an article in a parenting magazine that I agree with. There's a first.
For this new blog, that is; not the Hoobastank song (although I do love that song, and it is now in my head). I already have a blog, but I have decided to start one dedicated solely to tales of Gehrig, my nearly one-year-old son, and our growing family. There's no telling how often I'll be posting, but I'll try to do it pretty regularly. That way you can keep up with our news, if you want to.
If you're wondering about the title "pretty how town," it is from a poem by e.e. cummings about the progression of life. It's one of my favorites.
pretty how town
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did.
Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
with by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
