I'm going to Italy!

I actually knew this already, but now I am for sure, because my husband found my birth certificate! Poor man inhaled so much dust in the attempt that his eyes swelled up, but he found it! Guess I'm no better a house-keeper than I am a record-keeper. But yay, Italy! Of course, he found it literally 5 minutes after I gave up and placed an order online to get a certified copy - fortunately, if you don't fax in the verification, they cancel your order and don't charge you.

I'm Mark Twain-ish! Having adventures! May have something more exciting than poop to write about after September! Oh, that reminds me my friend Megan, who said I could use her in my blog (see her comment on an earlier post if you don't believe me) - yesterday, she wrote to me and said, "I need a blog. For nothing more than to spare you my insanity. And ask rhetorical questions such as, "Why is it that children determine how well they wiped by sticking their finger in their butt?"

For mothers of young children, no matter how we try to diversify, it always comes back to the poop.