Maternity leave kicks ass. Its 9 am and I'm in my pajamas. This beats work any day.

We finally get counter tops tomorrow. They'll drop the sink in but they won't hook it up, so it will be another couple of days before we have a fully operational kitchen. I am so darned excited about that. Leo's mom is coming over on Friday to help me put everything away. I can't wait to rediscover the joys of dishwasher ownership.

I've been watching an inappropriate amount of TV lately. So great is the amount that I can recount the autopsy of Danielle C. Heard by memory (her heart surfaces were smooth, glistening and non-remarkable, don't you know). And I seriously doubt that Janine Turner suffers from "chronic dry eye". I wish I'd never seen the Dateline NBC about the couple that took crystal meth and then froze to death. And this morning I was in crazy post-partum tears over the Petra Whateverhernameis story. It is indeed quite sad, but I don't normally cry from watching TV. I really need to stop. But I can't generally balance a book and feed the babe at the same time. So that leaves me with TV or staring at the walls.

I went so far as to watch the entire Dana Plato True Hollywood Story yesterday. Did you know that she killed herself after appearing on the Howard Stern show? Everyone was so mean to her that she got even more depressed, etc. OK, clearly you have to have a lot of problems to begin with to off yourself (and she certainly did) but this little tidbit has further convinced me that Howard Stern is the devil's spawn (in addition to being Leo's favorite morning show host).

So, on that happy note (and more so because nothing terribly interesting has happened to me in days), I leave you with the world's happiest baby: