I might just need to complain a little bit.

Hi, Baby B's the name and trouble is my game...

Well, hello there, BFFs.

We leave for vacation in a week. A week from tomorrow at 9am to be precise. We'll be headed north. Waaaay north for our annual trip to Northern Michigan. Last year, due to a new addition to our family, ahem, we weren't able to go. You might remember that I talked about it here. Well, I guess no one really went since the K Crew was cruisin' the Carribbean, though our Staycation - blogged about this time last year - was still meaningful and full of adventure anyway.

Anyway, this pending week long hiatus apparently calls for clean clothes so I'm beginning to do the laundry again. I'm sorry that you have to listen to me talk about laundry so often, but really I just hate to do it. I mean HATE it. Such a waste of my life. Do you think that if I post an ad on Craigslist for a laundry-doer, a nice, non-creepy person might respond and be willing to clean my clothes for free? Just a thought. I guess I could pay them with coffee and good conversation. Or maybe a treasure from my Etsy shop...

Changing subjects, Baby B has recently taken residence in a drawer that's been pulled out from his dresser. If you can even call it a dresser. It's actually a poorly put together ensemble of cheap plywood disguised as a dresser. That's what I get for buying something for $30 at Value City. Literally, the staples are coming loose and it is falling apart inside Baby B's closet. That's why the drawer is sitting in the middle of the floor - because it won't slide back in its plastic grooves. Argh.

Do you see it in the background of this picture? Not that I encourage or want you to judge the cleanliness of this closet, but look at the atrocious mess that that dresser is. Try not to notice all the items shoved haphazardly to the sides of the dresser. Thanks.

I guess I'll need to be yard saleing for something a little more stable here in the near future. Or maybe I'll just restaple the sides back together. Regardless, something needs to be done before Baby B is old enough to loudly protest taking naps in the pack-n-play, but instead wants to take G and his blankets to the dresser drawer.

So, to round out our day, I think we'll go to the grocery store and get my car tags. I know, my life's pretty darn exciting. No, seriously, I long for the day I get to stand around the DMV, stroller in hand, trying to keep Baby B from whining with handfuls of puffs that he'll inevitably throw in the floor. Especially when I get to stand next to the guy who forgot to put on his deo or brush his teeth, and he wants to make small talk about the new Pinto he bought. Well, that's not really ever happened before, but what trip to the DMV isn't complete without such a story? Seriously. It's either that, or you get the lady at the window who apparently didn't realize people skills were involved in this job where you're forced to work with the public for 8 hours a day. All business, doesn't look you in the eye, or even politely acknowledge the darling child perched koala-like on your hip. Okay, these are generalizations, and I apologize, but I think I'd rather be stuck in the house doing laundry all day.

Later alligators.