Poor Ricky

Last night (this morning?) at about 4 am either aliens invaded my home or the battery in the smoke detector started failing. The baby monitor went all paranormal activity on us. There was a weird ringing and the video feed flashed on and off. Mr. Schneed and I both shot right up. What the hell? Of course, I wasn't much calmed by the fact that when I looked at the monitor, I couldn't see the baby in his crib. He seems to know exactly where to crouch so that he is out of view. After a few absurdly scary seconds (was he struck by lightning?), my husband realized that it was the smoke detector and promptly fell back asleep. I, meanwhile, kept checking the monitor until a wayward little arm appeared on the screen.

I just watched the wrong ten minutes of "Boyz In The Hood." Dayum, that was a buzzkill. Such a great movie.

In other news, I'm fairly certain that I have never enjoyed anything in my life as much as I enjoy kissing the underside of my baby's chin. Who knew?

We're leaving on Friday for an east coast tour. When you live on the other side of the country, you can't possibly visit one relative without visiting them ALL. Thus, we will embark on a two-week long odyssee, with 1,2,3,4,5 stopping points. Yippee! Call me crazy, but I am soooooo excited to enjoy some heat, humidity and homecomings. Mr. Schneed can only think about the crabs (he's a Maryland boy). Mr. Monk has no idea what's coming.