I’ve been writing so much about the monkey lately, which totally reflects what my life is like right now. I’m consumed with her…by her. I’m turning into one of those stay-at-home moms who has nothing to talk about but her children, and celebrities (oh! and, literature — been reading a lot lately — oh! and movies…and! and! art…and dance, and basketball, and CATS). Nothing. Nothing else. But, it’s okay. Because I’m happy, which means I’ve got to be doing something right. So, I’ll have you know….

….The monkey finally has a stuffed animal she loves. It’s a monkey, of course. And, she loves it almost as much as my breasts.

Yes, we’re still breastfeeLing. I could sit here judging mothers who let their 5-year-olds walk around with a pacifier, but I really shouldn’t talk: I walk around carrying a 25-pound toddler with a thumb in her mouth and a hand right down my shirt, squeezing and fondling my breasts (and, occasionally, flashing them to the world). I know people have issues with breastfeeding in public…how ’bout breastfeeLing in public? Is there a law in the works against that?

Anyway, I’m thrilled that the monkey has found a little monkey of her own to love and squeeze and need….It’s a start.

She loves her little monkey, presses it between her little knees at night, clenches it with her little fingers, kisses it, hugs it.

Also. I baked today. See?

From very rotten bananas (ew),

I made this,

which turned into…TADA!:

It’s pretty delicious, and healthy: walnuts, bananas (which the monkey calls “NEH”), olive oil, and whole wheat flour. Want some?

Update: I’ve provided the recipe in the comments!

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