This week, I’ve spent enough time in my cobweb infested attic that it should be considered cruel and unusual punishment.  My sister’s birthday was yesterday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISTER) and for her big day, I created a scrapbook.  While I buck the idea that I am any form of a Martha-Stewartish-scrapbooking-mom, I must confess how much fun I had unearthing buried photographic memories in the graveyard which is my attic.  It didn’t take long for the sentiment to pass and by day two I was completely convinced that all my sister ever wanted for her birthday was a Target gift card, but the present did turn out to be a success (I would say).

Through the photos I was able to document my journey as a Crazy Mom.  It began here, on the day I was wheelbarrowed into the hospital to deliver my daughter.  I told you I ate a lot of ice cream.

And then my screeching, tiny, blob of yucky happiness was welcomed into the world…

Just as though I didn’t learn my lesson of how much childbirth SUCKED the first time, I started hitting the ice cream churn again…

And welcomed another blob of yucky happiness…

Those blobs have since gotten bigger and more complicated.  Rather than screeching, they are opinionated and whiney.   While I don’t plan on falling off the Ben & Jerry’s wagon again anytime soon… that damn scrapbook certainly made me think about grabbing a spoon.