and wrote 1222 words, and had phÆ¡ for dinner and really life is okay even if not a single person responds to any of the resumes I’ve sent out in the last two weeks.
Alex is sitting up, crawling, grinning and in general running his mama ragged. By which I mean: Alex can crawl at what I consider a goodly pace. He smiled politely at my attempts at baby talk, and then got into a disagreement with one of my Crocs. (Katie will verify that he indeed made noises of displeasure at my shoe. Not the left one, the right one, since one of you is sure to ask.) And he slept like an angel during our meal. I am a topped-up grandma.
