:: Does anyone else get a sudden feeling of Martha-move-over when you finally get around to something like vacuuming your lampshades? And maybe it’s silly and not quite deserved, but I confess to savoring those few moments when I fancy myself the consummate housewife.

:: Despite the fact that I live no more than ten minutes from every store under the sun, I find myself not wanting to go shopping any more than when a long trek to Massena was involved. In fact, most of the time, I find myself not wanting to go anywhere. Period. I’d much rather do some chores, tackle a project, make dinner, and wait for Ryan to come home — over and over and over. And should I get itchy, I throw Jameson in the stroller or ergo and take a walk. Am I lazy? Just a home-body? Enjoying the fact that I can stay home because I haven’t entered the music lessons and dance recitals stage of parenting? Whatever it is, I’d rather be home.

:: That said, I think this afternoon holds errands for baby and mama. He took a nice long nap, which allowed for, you know, my Martha activities, and now it’s time to gather my goods from afar — or whatever it is that she does.

:: Ants. They invaded our kitchen last week. Lore and I noticed a few here and there, and I thought they were annoying, but the next day there was a solid black line leading to a solid black squirming pile, devouring some crumb left on the counter. Gross, gross, and gross. I don’t like creeping and crawling. Ants on my picnic blanket are okay; I understand that I’ve invaded their territory. But ants in my kitchen crawling into my dishwasher are something totally different. In this situation, they must die. And, of course, my husband must be the one to kill them. Not me.

:: Spiders. Ryan came home and said, “By the way, at work they told me there are black widows here, so be careful.” Uh, great. So not only do I scream because I hate spiders in general, now I can scream because I might die with that thing near me.

:: Jameson loves to read his books. Usually he just turns page after page, touching his favorite pictures, but sometimes I catch him reading to himself — and it’s so amazingly cute. He also says, “hi,” while holding his hand to his ear. I feel like the phone doesn’t really ring that often, and so it’s funny that of all the things he sees us do, that’s one of the first he’s picked up on. And on Sunday, while sitting on Ryan’s shoulders, he reached around and planted a kiss on Ryan’s cheek. Yes, Ryan almost melted.

:: My baby is becoming a little boy, and I’m absolutely enthralled by the process. When he’s playing with his toys all by himself, or playing chase with Ryan, or standing up (still with help) and being so, so tall, I find it hard to grasp that my baby is this old. But then when he wakes up from his nap, he’ll want to nurse, just to be cuddled near me, and I relish a few moments of babyness. It’s all special, and it all makes my heart swell with such love. What a blessing.

:: Ryan’s been tweaking this site a bit, and I’m going to do my best to keep up with his aspirations for it. That means keeping track of things I like and adding them to the links in the sidebar. It also means writing an “about me” that’s for real and not just the filler he’s got in there now. I just know, deep inside, that this is going to hang over my head for weeks before getting done. One, I’ll never remember. Two, when I do remember and have a minute to write it, I’ll decide I’d rather write a post. Three, I hate, hate, hate writing “about me” stuff. Hate it like I hate spiders.