I have a son. An almost six month pig like angel named Eoghan.
He is super. He is also in super ugly pj's. He shit all over his cute ones. So his dad put him in his $1.97 ones I picked up from Target.
I apologize now. I cuss. A lot. It is a habit I will try to work on. It is NOT cute when babies cuss and I do not want Eoghan to be that baby. I have a lot of habits. I have been able to break most of them. Dope, smoking, mooning people, climbing trees drunk. The list could go on.
I think the point of this blog is to write about my boy. My family. Breastfeeding. And try to maybe become witty again with my writing. I am disappointed in the fact that I only wrote maybe five times in my journal while I was pregnant. My Thai yoga massage friend told me sometimes pregnancy can suck the creative stuff out of you.
I might back track a little. For myself. I still have not written my sons birth story down. Or at least the parts I remember so I might use this sight for that too. Hopefully my flow will come back.