I've tried to start this blog at least three times. It's not happening. Not for lack of material, no my kids all still live with me. But mostly because I'm so overwhelmed by it being December and all. I've tried making to do lists, but so far all I've done is count to purple. 

Today I made the following observations. 

Cinco really, really wants to lick the chimney. I don't know why. She will tolerate licking the oven, but only while I am cooking dinner. I'm not sure what it is that draws her, clearly not the stainless steal cleaner, well....knowing my kids perhaps they are putting stainless steal cleaner on the chimney. 

Cinco loves wrapping paper. She does not approve of wrapping paper on rolls. She believes strongly that it should remove it from them. And then rip it into tiny pieces so that it cannot be returned to the roll. 

The only place better to leave your swimming attire than the hardwood floors is the brand new furniture. Also, Mac swimming looks exactly like you think it will. Except even less refined. 

Cinco is impossibly cute. And poopy. Very, very poopy. In addition, it's alarming how much she eats. Very little of it, judging from her diapers, is actually food. 

It would be better if X-Man would stop feeding his tangerine peels to Cinco. 

McDonalds coffee drinks are buy one get one free. There's a reason for that. 

Baby and Baba talked me into buying pink cowboy boots for Cinco. I realized that I had failed to buy Cinco anything for Christmas. Oh, Santa is coming for her. But I figured that as I recently recovered the chimney, she had everything she need. Now she will eat the chimney while weaing pink cowboy boots. 

I have 75 homework assignments in my inbox. On Monday I had 5. Also, I'm pretty sure the father figure is having a birthday very soon. 

I'm tired. 

Cinco is eight months old today. Eight months. She also stood by herself. Baba tried to get her to walk. Santa is not coming for Baba anymore.