Can someone please explain to me why my son refuses the very, very tasty mashed banana and peaches I make for him - and instead chooses to eat his books, even managing to save for later a slimy, pulpy little ball of assorted Sesame Street covers under his tongue?
And now that he has some wicked sharp teeth, he's able to fight back a little more when I go in to retrieve the last corner of Ten Little Monkeys that's gone missing. Sometimes I think it'd be easier - and less painful - pulling a bone away from a pit bull.
Owww.




My name is erika-renee, but call me eka - pronounced "eh-ka." I'm suddenly somehow 32, though I still love pigtails and overalls and silly, happy things. I live north of Boston, and I'm happily married to
I'm a mama!
