Life’s a series of small catastrophes.

Well, more accurately, a small lad by the name of Stirling is apparently my harbinger of doom and destruction. The cuteness hides the germs he’s brought home, the sleepless nights, the ER visits for booboos, the shrieking like a pterodactyl. A swedish pterodactyl, if you please.

There’s the “rawr!” when he sees dinosaurs and slobberybabykisses which go a long way to making up for his enthusiasm in which he offers up a boardbook for Momma to read! and in doing so, knocks over a full venti coffee that said writer Momma had sleepily left in a stupid spot too close to where said board books are profferred.

Coffee tsunami, if you will. A boat went sailing by on a wave.

The casualties: a macbook, and a bluetooth keyboard that I use with my ipad for my writing, and a great number of my design sketches and notes for the collection.

So much paper mache, now.

Replaced the laptop, which was sort of up for replacing anyway, and onwards.

Toddlers.

( in other words, wrote 800 new words this week so that’s a thing.)

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