Hello, My Name is Kelly

And this is my blog.

My poor neglected blog.

I have so much to write about that I can't think of anything to say.

But first of all, I have to thank Em. I checked the mail yesterday, and she sent me a working mom care package. Here, take a look at what I got!

As a brand new working mom, I feel the need to simplify my life. Becky doesn't know that I have this need, but she was so gracious to already have a pic of my care package! (Ok, that's Becky's care package.)

Emily, thank you so much for thinking of me. I'm really looking forward to my magazine subscription about working moms/women. I will certainly pay it forward.

On to "me" news. My BABY turns 4 next week, and his party is this weekend. He picked out Spiderman invites. Um, ok. How does he know about Spiderman? I don't know. But I went with it. While we were looking at Spiderman cakes the other day (because he DID get the Spiderman invites), he picked out a Madagascar cake.

Huh? A 2-themed party? Ok. Whatever floats your boat, Birthday Boy.

And he wants Transformers napkins. (No, we don't watch Transformers on tv. Stuff like this must be embedded in boy DNA.)

Ok, 3 themes. But I'm drawing the line there!

I mean, how often do you turn 4? Only once, right? So he can have whatever he wants. (Just don't laugh at him.)

WHOA!!

2008 (or two thousand eight if you're a 3rd grade teacher at this point during the year), SLOW DOWN! Slam on your brakes! You are going way too fast, and I need to stop this ride.

September is almost 1/2 way over. Which means that my very best girlfriend's son is almost one. ALMOST ONE! One.

And guess what happens right after that? My baby turns F-O-U-R. What? An official kid?! That can't be. Because every single year I have felt the same way..."He's not a baby anymore". Yet, every single year I think every single day, "He's my baby."

Ah, that feels better. Yes, he IS my baby. That is my mantra. "He's my baby. He's my baby. He's my baby."

Maybe that will keep the F-O-U-R's away.

(And what comes after Reagan's birthday?? CHRISTMAS!!!! Slow down, I tell you!!!)

Don't Get Too Close!

This is crazy. It is the SIXTH day of school, and I have a substitute there this morning.

Reagan and I developed a stomach bug. "Bug" sounds to cute for how I feel. Luckily Reagan woke up this morning feeling much better (and had a yogurt and sausage) so he is at my mother-in-law's house. All while I feel yucky, clammy, achy. Miserable.

On a happy note, we had a great long weekend. David and I double-dated on Saturday night after he completed the Nike Human Race. Yesterday was "Reagan Day" which involved a trip to Cabela's and McDonald's for lunch.

It doesn't take much to make him happy.

And to stay positive about my "itty bitty cute litty buggy-wuggy", at least I have one more day to prepare more for my lessons this week.

But first I'm going to maneuver myself to the couch and put myself in the fetal position.