Irritated...

It's safe to say that I would rather give my dog a rectal exam than listen to Sammy Hagar. I mean, if someone threatened my life or my family's safety or something and said "You have a choice: either stick this probe up your pup's back door or listen to an entire Sammy album straight through," I would be up my dog's ass in a heartbeat. I'm just sayin'. And now you know.

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My very favorite part of every day is 6-7 p.m. By this time my workout is usually done and those tingly, post-exercise endorphins are rushing through my system. Ethan has finished dinner and had his bath. (Recently he's been showering with his dad and absolutely loves it. It is remarkably cute how the two of them bond, I can hardly stand it.) Anyway, after his bath I usually fix him a sippy full of juice or fruit smoothie, put out a small bedtime snack (a handful of Kix cereal or flavored mini-rice cakes are both popular selections), turn Scrubs on the tube (Ethan LOVES Scrubs. He will literally sit on my lap and direct all of his attention to that show for, like, fifteen minutes at a stretch. I have no shame, I think it's a great show for him to like. And it is a great show...), and we sit on the living room rug to color and do puzzles. That stale daycare scent has been washed from Ethan's curls. Bogart stretches out at our feet. It's my most favorite time of day, every day. And it (almost) always puts me in a good mood. I really look forward to it. It's my one hour of pure, uninterrupted, guaranteed bliss, every single day.