Turns Out My Kind o' Crazy is Genetic

Subtitle: Housebound and going bananas.

School is out. The weather is uncooperative. The Mac man is potty training. In short, I want to hug the late Steve Jobs for his most entertaining inventions.

We heart an iPhone. And an iPad, for that matter. A two-year-old can never have too many means by which to admire himself.

Actual content to come, I promise. For now, a filmstrip of Smith family shenanigans.

Tell me we're not cut from the same cloth, this half-dressed, potty-training hot mess of a boy and his only barely sane mama.

Thank goodness such tomfoolery makes Mary Brooks* giggle, as we've spent many a big-boy-underpants-filled day recently taking pictures of ourselves and running to and from Mac's dizzyingly green frog potty.

Poor girl has no clue what the rest of the world considers fun, and for that I'm grateful. This is how y'all spend your free time, right?

*MB is still healed, recovering beautifully, sleeping, snacking and growing sweeter and smilier by the hour. Thanks so much for the emails and tweets; I promise to give our girl the update she deserves very soon.