Rooster had to drive me to work yesterday because I was crying too hard to see the road. I never thought it would be this tough to leave Baby Bird. She doesn’t talk, she’s pretty stationary, and she’s slow to smile. But when she does exercise that grin...well it makes winning a cooking contest seem like the most mundane thing in the world.
Unless it's Pillsbury, because if it's Pillsubry maybe I can retire gracefully and start driving my daughter crazy full time. Because really, isn’t that what every good mommy does? (Drive their progeny insane-- not necessarily done from home, although as a full time neurotic, I'm sure that would help my cause)
Oh, also, while I was sitting on the couch bawling my eyes out with my friend Anjuli who sweetly agreed to watch BB for my first week back at work, Rooster crouched down in front of us and asked if he could take a picture. He nearly got himself killed with that one. And no, there is no documentation of the event.
NO CONTEST. I'M TOO DISTRAUGHT
