“Twelfth” is such a weird word. It totally doesn’t at all feel right to say or write out. I almost want to just put “the twelve.”

The big event around here today is that Archer suffered an injury that required a bandaid. There was blood and everything! At first I thought he nicked himself with his little razor-sharp talons, but it was bleeding too much to be just a little superficial nail-scrape. Vance figures that he must’ve bumped into Vance’s jury-rigged glasses – which are fastened together with a paper-clip – and cut himself. So tragic. If Deven had seen this, he would have been SO JEALOUS that his little brother got to wear one of his Winnie the Pooh bandaids. I mean, he actually has to hurt himself to get one of those!

Now, by the way, there is a large bandaid-shaped rash on Archer’s forehead. I don’t think babies are actually supposed to get bandaids, just cotton balls and hypoallergenic medical tape. We are so unprepared around here.

So, my birthday is in about a week, and I’m kind of shocked by how not into it I am this year. Normally, I’m planning something awesome and fun, and shouting daily reminders to everyone I know months ahead of time, but I didn’t even remember what was happening this month until, like a week ago. It has nothing to do with turning 26 and growing out of the excitement of getting a day devoted entirely too me. I think it has more to do with the timing and how un-exciting it is against the other stuff that’s happened this year. I just had a baby a month ago, who gives a shit about me? I don’t even give shit about me, how can I expect anyone else too? Also, there isn’t a whole lot of fun stuff I can do this year. I can’t go shopping for new clothes, since I’m still losing weight from breastfeeding, and I can’t drink, and we don’t have any money right now anyway. I would like to go out to dinner that evening, but since we’re broke, we won’t (unless someone else decides to pay.) I’m not making a big to-do out of it this year. I don’t want anyone to come down from out of town for my birthday, I don’t expect any gifts, and I will probably forgo the delicious cupcakes with my waste-line in mind. I will most certainly want the opportunity to sleep in on Saturday, and that’s it.

What else? Vance and I have found a new craft hobby that has totally turned us into eight-year-olds all over again: bead sprites! Remember those? We started working on Super Mario Bros characters tonight. He made a 1-Up mushroom and I made a Goomba. I’m not entirely sure what we’re going to do with these weird plastic things; we talked about making them into magnets, or I suggested we make an entire Super Mario world, with all of the characters, and the blocks, and tunnels, and then…hang it on the wall? It’s just a silly hobby. I never thought that picking tiny beads out of of a tub and then ironing them together could be so fun, but it is. It totally is.