I confess that Liam's hand, foot and mouth disease is gone but now he's having an allergic reaction to something we haven't yet identified and his swollen, full-body rash makes me cringe. This kid's seriously awesome for dealing with it better than I do.
I confess that we've been using Caillou as a... shall I say, calming tool. It works. He's sick. What can we do.
I confess I HATE CAILLOU.
I confess that after declaring this coming week a no-sugar week for the family I used my homemade ginger molasses cookies to absorb Liam's Benadryl because he won't drink it out of the little measuring cup. I'm going to try yogurt and applesauce later but the cookies were more convenient earlier.
I confess that for Gabe and I, the no-sugar week was to start as soon as those cookies were gone and for Liam it was to start immediately. There's always... later in the week.
I confess I may soon be visiting Florida for the first time in my life. Not for a vacation but to visit a dying relative, which is probably one of the worst reasons for a "vacation."
I confess I NEED a vacation but this is not what I had in mind.
I confess that the dying relative is my great aunt, who raised my mother when my mother's parents decided that their children were a burden after they divorced in the 1950s. This great aunt means a great deal to my family and I bent over, clutching the handle on the oven door, sobbing, the day I got the call about her inoperable breast cancer.
I confess I miss my mum, who's been in Florida with her aunt since March.
I confess that I am dorkfully excited about composting. It makes me so happy to empty my coffee cans full of apple cores, potato skins, egg shells and banana peels out by the garden.
I confess that with May here, my son is now one month away from turning two years old and I am painfully torn about having another child or not.
Come on, get something off your chest.