Cookie Monsters, Swear Jars and Crossfit

Taylor mimics me [and cookie monster] at the dinner table saying 'NOM NOM NOM' as she eats her cheerios. It never fails to elicit a laugh out of me. It's priceless. The first rays of consciousness reflecting off, and emanating from, the mirror pool that that is my daughter. It reminds me - I've gotta get a swear jar. Years of being in the young male dominated game industry have turned me into a abject potty mouth. If I keep this up the only job she'll be suited for is a shrimp boat captain. That's no fucking good....oh dammit.

I meant to post about this as well about 4 months in - about how I put Taylor to sleep, slowly stepping away from the crib - my knees and ankles crack like rolling thunder. It's almost enough to wake her up. I turned 40 the January after her birth and the joints are feeling it. It's a dramatic contrast to a newborn that can fold herself like a piece of origami. I'm currently enrolled in crossfit twice a week to roll back the clock...and to keep up with a baby girl missing an 'off' switch.