I've been sitting here staring at this white box for several minutes now, trying to come up with a witty, attention-getting blog post and the words are just failing me tonight. It's almost intimidating. Isn't that pathetic? I doubt hardly anyone even reads this aside from my husband and still

Wow, that whole paragraph was going nowhere fast. Curse you, Dawn Meehan! I can't write anything now without contemplating the thought that I need to make it good enough to catch Nickelodeon's attention. Well tonight the words just aren't coming to me so I'll have to let my literary genius shine another night. Or something.

I really shouldn't let days pass between blog posts because too much happens and I could spend days blogging everything. So instead, I'll talk about something that happened today. A couple days ago, I listed our Arm's Reach Co-sleeper on Craigslist. Bex hasn't slept in it since he was two weeks old so it's been serving as a nice, over-sized remote control caddy for the past five months. Might as well clear it out of here and make some money, right? Plus, DH told me I can't buy a new double stroller until I sell some of the other baby junk that's cluttering up the house. And my very tired of 22-pound-baby arms are telling me that that double stroller is very necessary.

So anyway, a woman contacted me about the co-sleeper and we arranged for her and her husband to come look at it today. When they got here I took them upstairs to show them how it worked, had several moments of feeling very very stupid because I couldn't get the thing to collapse (way to make them feel confident in their purchase!) and finally got it figured out and out the door with them. As soon as they left, I did what any normal person does: I looked her up on Myspace. Oh, wait, that's not normal?

I'm being honest, though. I did. Maybe I'm the only one that does this, or maybe not, but when I meet someone new, I am always wondering if it is someone I could form a friendship with. Maybe that's just the reclusive SAHM in me, but it's the truth. I look at every young mom I see as a potential friend for me and playmates for my boys. A couple for DH and I to socialize with. I'm sure everyone that has kids knows that as soon as the first one is born, your friend network is minimized by about 90%. The only people who want to hear about sleepless night and poop and teething and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers are other parents who also deal with sleepless nights and poop and teething and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers.

I told DH that I found her on Myspace and the first thing he said way, "Oh, you did not add her, did you?"

"God no, I'm taking it slow, I don't wanna scare her off!"

But let me tell you, I did think about adding her. Is that stalkerish? Rhetorical question. I settled instead for emailing her back to say thanks again and ask her if she wanted to take a travel swing off our hands. I had set it upstairs intending to send it with them and totally spaced it. She emailed back and said they would love it and we could set up a time later this week to meet up. She also complimented my well-behaved children and now I'm wondering if I emailed the right person.

And yes, I bounced into the kitchen to tell DH. Yes, he made fun of me and my new "love interest." And no, it does not take much to excite me. :P

Oh, and I almost forgot. After they left, I tossed the envelope containing the money into the office on the floor. Ten seconds later I turned around just in time to see that Sam had wedged out the bottom corner of the baby gate, snatched the envelope, removed the cash and was bounding off shrieking, "Me get the dollars!" I panicked and snatched them back, because we are talking about the king of paper shredding, after all. To which he pouted very pathetically and convincingly. So I gave him a single dollar bill, and he carried that dollar bill around for the rest of the evening. Did not shred so much as a corner of it. I almost expected him to kiss the dollar and hang it on the wall a la Mr. Krabs, but then I realized I probably watch a little too much Spongebob.