blogstone: one hundred

Happy 100 posts to me. It's a blogstone. Get it. Like milestone. I crack myself up. Well, sometimes. Okay, rarely. Holy schnokers, it has been like root-canal hard to drag myself to the blog this week to write my stinkin' anniversary post. But here I am. You win the prize, but only if you read all the way to the end.

I feel since it is my 100th, I should, like, give a speech or something:

Eight months ago when the lovely and talented Jill said to me, "Jen, you should totally start a blog; there are tons of moms doing it," I was like: "A what?" And as they say, the rest is...

Okay, so there's my speech. Oh, and I guess I'd like to thank Blogger, even though picture uploads have been root-canal hard and, in general, the template choices could be more creative. I know, it's free, I should lower my standards.

But the point is, blogging motivates me to write (some "shitty first drafts" as Anne Lamott would say) about our life, right down to the ants in our walls and the carpal tunnel I am sure to get from all the trimwork and painting I've done in the past three weeks. Oh, right, I never did write about that. Too much throbbing and twitching to type, I guess. And, how could I forget, blogging also allows me to post pictures of my husband wearing rabbit ears and eating sushi for all of our family and closest friends to see -- and possibly even people who don't know us and therefore don't have the reassurance that we are mostly normal, with a few exceptions. Seriously, what's there not to love about a blog? Oh, right, see previous paragraph.

In this, my 100th post, I feel I should also share with you, my devoted readers, that at times my love of blog has reached obsessive levels, like last week when I dreamt that SD and I actually got to meet (and have dinner with) one of my blog idols whom I do not know personally (of course) and who lives thousands of miles away (of course), and we just *so* hit it off, and -- here's the kicker -- she featured us in her blog post the next day. And, of course, I felt like a rock star. Well, I guess that would be blog star. I mean, in my dream, I felt like a rock/blog star. In my bed when I woke up, I felt like an idiot. And a little bit, um, like a lunatic, too.

So, happy 100 to me. I shudder to think what dreams may come between now and my bicentennial.

:::

Today, I finally got around to plopping our (as of two days ago) 14-month-old babe in some good ol' Texas bluebonnets and, of course, taking pictures. It's a whole phenomenon thingie here -- people pulling off the road to snap photos of their kids frolicking in the wildflowers and all. It's wild (heh, heh), but when in Rome...

Here are a few of my faves: