#CRUSHEDIT

I AM ALIVE.
And it is wonderful. I didn't even kill anyone during my week of not showering. That was pretty nice. You really learn a lot about yourself when you get that smelly. Like, your normal friends won't be around you because it's hard for them to watch you fade away into nothing but a shadow of your former excellent self.
That's not true, Albus spent the entire week following me around. Attempting to sneakily lick my calf muscles, but nonetheless, there for me when I most needed it.
This week I am going to work on my tan because my knees are heaps tanned but my calves and thighs not so much. Thanks really long soccer shorts and knee high soccer socks. There's a small window for sun and thus, my knees are beautiful. The rest, not so much.
I'm also going to write some really late thank you cards for that engagement party we had way back when, and say things like BILL, YOUR 56 PIECE CUTLERY SET STILL MAKES MY HEART SING #ladyproblems.
I'm also going to try my hand at homemade lip balms. If you get one, don't use it. You'll probably die.
And finally I'm going to practice singing the Pitch Perfect songs. It's seriously hard to do a 10 part acapella performance by yourself but I've almost got it nailed. It is just so hard being this talented. That's life though, you work with the hand you've been dealt. #crushedit (that's a Pitch Perfect reference. If you didn't get it, please politely leave. It's fine, it's for the best.)
Hope YOU all have a swell week. I'm going to blow up my Instagram feed with awesomeness this week, so I'd get on that if I was you. I'm pretty lucky that I'm me, because I'm going to get a sneak preview of it all before any of you.
Oh, and P.S - if you'd like some soft core NOT SAYING THE WORD, go read Abbi Glines. It's just a bunch of ridiculously attractive American teenagers getting so incredibly frisky. It kind of made me happy (NOT LIKE THAT... although, a little bit...) because it's so bad but so good. If you read it and hate it, don't hate me because I don't care. Plus, you were warned.

And no post is complete without a picture of my favourite nephew.
HOLY COW. Albus just walked in the room, dropped a stink bomb, and walked away. Even though I may throw up because it stinks that bad, my maternal instincts just kicked in and I am so proud of my baby for taking after his Mumma. Albus and I really were meant to be.