this morning jackson was up at 630- and left not a moment for me to recover.
as soon as he was conscious he was thirsty, hungry, a pirate, a steve zissou-esque astronaut, destined for the moon and finally, he dug deep inside of himself and channeled his namesake, mr pollock.
yes, by 830, we were painting with acrylics on the front porch.
and yes, he fashioned his own ensemble. (there is actually a car inside the hat, you know, for safe keeping)
either way, i think the kid is talented.
now im off to take some zantac, and change the laundry.
the glamourous life of an expectant mother-really i should write a book about this stuff.