I'm not your daddy

"Daddy, daddy, daddy." His arms stretched out for me to pick him up. "I'm not your daddy. I'm your mommy. Mama. Say 'mama'." This wouldn't be so bad except that Daddy is trying to get him to say "dog" instead of "doggie" because even Daddy isn't so sure if he's being called "daddy" or something else. Could it be then, that I have been relegated to the spot of "doggie". Oh, dear.

Can't stop thinking about . . .

this t-shirt from Kingsley. Chief Running Nose. That is my son at the moment.

It's a hot one . . .

At 6 this evening the external temp in my car read 98 degrees. It must be nice to have air conditioning on nights like this.

Here is Finn cooling off in his water table. Don't try this at home. Professional stunt baby used in this photo. Oh, and he didn't let go of that spoon for like 2 hours.

I don't know what I'm doing

That's an understatement. But truly I am trying to figure out this blog thing - like 10 years too late.

Here lies the blog of Momma Sooze . . .

I'm sure it will stay unwritten and unnoticed for some time . . .