I think there is a reason cliches are cliches. Sometimes people get caught up trying so hard to not follow a cliche that it becomes a cliche in itself. (and slightly annoying, no? But I'm sure I fall into that category sometimes.) But back to my original thought. Valentine's Day. We reveled in the cliches this year, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Flowers (lilies), box of chocolates (TJ's, so good I asked if they were hiding some extras yesterday), perfume (I am bringing my signature scent back! Perfume that doesn't smell like perfume.). I also gave Jon a pillow I made with a Sufjan phrase, because it can't be a holiday, birth, or wedding without some Sufjan involved in the Hall family. (My first attempt at freezer paper stencils--I must admit I wasn't so exacto with the knife as I had hoped. But I tried my best.) Add in some delicious pizza and a warm brownie topped with fancy ice cream and chocolate ganache--I was feeling so wonderful it didn't matter that Theo decided to wake up and not fall back asleep. The worst part of the night was when crazy Michelle got sent home from the Bachelor. But I'll get over it.
After sitting Theo in the chair, it quickly turned to this-
And finally this, his attempt to crawl on the nightstand.
Needless to say, he's got some bruises on his face (not from this, don't worry, just other times when he falls on his face and I'm not paying attention). He also has his first mild cold, and I'm sure the neighbors think I am torturing a baby dolphin when in fact am just trying to suck excess mucus from his nose.
It's such a cliche. My baby is attempting to crawl off cliffs and is leaking crusty fluid from his nose, but I love him all the same. Or even more.