So, apparently, there are plenty of closet NKOTB fans out there (or grown ladies who used to be NKOTB fans)… as well as the random Nelson admirer or two in the bunch.

I was amused to see how many people admitted to these after my recent “embarassments” post.

And this is for them.

Jonathon

Donnie

Danny

Jordan

Joey

Nelson (Matthew & Gunnar)

How creepy is this post? Very, my friends, very. And I dun ker.

PS: I DARE you to say no one on this page is hot.

PPS: Gunnar is hotter. Hands down.

Ahh, bathie and bedtime have to be my favorite times of the day.

Last night was lovely again. Much playing with boats, turtles and bubbles was had. There was splashie and kicking in the suds. My baby loves bathie.

Then bedtime. I’ve been blowdrying his hair lately, and he seems to like it. Last night he giggled as the warm air rushed over him.

We sat in the glider, and I read him the book, “Mommy Hugs,” and then he read it to me. For the record, his version was much more exciting. Squeals just liven up a tale, I find.

Then it was lights out, and rocking to sleep in the glider time.

But ohhhh, Braden decided that it was one of those special nights when he will snuggle in deeply to my chest, but NOT go right to sleep.

Instead, it was time for another episode of “Mommy’s Face: A Journey of Pain.” This is basically where Braden decideds to reach up and start performing exploratory surgery on my face with his sweet little chubby hands, surprisingly strong fingers, and razor-like nails.

The Surgeon’s Obvious Plans:

First part of the procedure for this episode: Hook finger upon Mommy’s Nose Stud and YANK LIKE HELL. This will widen the hole, allowing Mommy to explore larger gauge nose studs. She will enjoy the prospect.

Second Foray: Reach up quickly with index finger extended, jamming it straight up into Mommy’s nose. The sweet spot has been reached if Mommy’s eyes well up with tears, and a gasp of pain is uttered.

Next stop, Mommy’s Lip. Grab lip with Death Grip From Hades and yank. Repeat until hand is firmly, but lovingly, removed. Repeat again.

Do not close the surgery without tracing new and exciting trails into Mommy’s gums with the sharpest fingernail imaginable.

And somehow, I call these the best years of my life.

Oh, and lest you think I have forgotten to liven up your lives with poop, here’s the latest Poop Report.

Poo will creep in early in the evening. Well-formed chunks of a deep brown color will be seen moving through the area. Some will float, others will sink.

Proceed with extreme caution. An area that seems safe to cross, as it is only inhabited by a toddler this cute:

Can quickly become A Poop Flood Zone:

Stay tuned for further Poop Updates.

Dear Braden,

It is November 16, 2007. It has been 13 months since you blessed my life with your touch.

This past month, something beyond words has been happening. That’s going to make this really difficult for me, because Mommy’s trying really hard to use her words right now.

All this time, since the day I worked harder than I ever have before, I have been amazed while watching you become.

This past month has been insane. For the first time, you are really showing us what a little person you are. Oh, don’t get me wrong, we’ve been seeing your personality for some time now.

But not like this.

Where on earth did you get that smile? And that silly way you have of hamming for us?

Who passed on that attittude!?

You give me this look at times as if to say, “Oh, Good Lord, Mother, I mean, REALLY.” I’m left just *blinking* after you, wondering, “When did my little goo-ball develop real human emotions and quirks!?”

I SWEAR you are already trying to make jokes with us. Do you know how proud I am of that?

And by the way, this recent development of you actually coming to me and going, “Uhhn!” whenever you have a turd onboard? I LOVE THAT. I have this little thing you might like, sweetie… it’s called a “potty.”

You wave now, with purpose. When Daddy goes “bye-bye” for work, you give your little, parade salute. The other night, you even said, “butbut” from your stance in the bathie as you waved to the most proud Daddy ever.

Zack, the doggie (Ogg-Ogg!) is still your bestest friend and favorite obsession, second only to “owsigh!” (outside).

If you don’t get the proper amount of exposure to both of these each day YOUR HEAD WILL LITERALLY FALL OFF YOUR BODY. We have learned to keep lots of super glue and duct tape on hand for rainy days.

When you are tired of your toys, you run to me, arms outstretched, for a hug. You climb into my lap, and you nestle your face into my neck, and you sigh audibly, “Ahhh-mmmmm.” It is the sound of love. You own me.

You ate your first, whole apple of your very own, with skin! this past month. Well, it WAS going to be mine, but as we were sitting next to one another on the couch, you looked up at me, took it, and started to eat it. I was amazed.

Who taught you how to do that?

I watched you, trying not to cry over something so silly as you eating an apple… but it means you’re not a baby anymore. That makes me smile, swell with pride, and cry all at the same time.

You did this for the first time, too. You are learning too fast…

Over the course of many months, I have pointed at the River Tank Aquarium approximately one thousand and seventeen times, and showed you the “turtle! see the turtle honey!?” The other day, you stopped what you were doing, walked across the room, pointed at Eddie the Turtle and said, “Tard-ah!”

You are actually listening to me. You are learning.

And, you know, not that long ago, your Daddy and I saw Eddie trying to eat her own, stringy floater. So, quite frankly, she is quite a “Tard-ah.” Just one of the many (endless) things you have pointed out to me about the world that I didn’t see through my own, old eyes.

You take me one step closer to truly seeing the world for what it really is every time those amazing lashes slap down on that soft skin.

You actually make it look good.

Once again, my lovelies, it’s Haiku Friday!

ANOTHER MOLAR THIS WEEK. It has been hell, to say the least.

It peeked through on Tuesday, and has been hurting him all week.

Peer in there, on the lower, left side.

Hence, these Haiku.

Molar makes its way
Gouging, grinding, tearing gum
Poor lil’ man in pain.

Trying hard to help
Nothing I do makes it end
Ice cream is like gold.

He tries hard to sleep
His mouth objects to slumber
No solace tonight.

Please sleep just a bit?
Oh no, he’s screaming again.
Padded room awaits me.