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Ghostly readers & big boy beds

One of my coworkers told me she reads the blog this past weekend. (Hey D!) Which sort of took me by surprise because sometimes I have a hard time visualizing you, dear readers. All 8300 of you. It can be, at times, like talking to a fence post. I understand why you don't comment...you don't have accounts setup, you're busy, you don't know me personally. But I know you're there. Phantoms clicking through from social media. Someone actually Googled looking specifically for me--it feels weird. Google, take me to that Newfangled Dad bloggy thing. Someone was looking for my running shoes. Someone else was looking for "stolen labor and delivery." Not what they had in mind, I'm guessing!

I'm definitely not one of the high-traffic big boys of dad-blogging who have monetized. For now, I keep you ad-free...you're welcome. I'm not especially funny. Or controversial. Or filled with cute, hilarious photo memes. Yet there you are. Thanks.

But you're hard to figure out just as much as I am. Some posts get 15 views, others get 150 new hits. No rhyme or reason to what catches on. I'm not especially zealous with the keyword tagging. I have some hidden appeal, apparently, in Russia & Israel.

The world is a strange place.

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On a different note, Leda just learned the beeping noses game. She thinks it is awesome.

Cole has a twin mattress on its way because his little sis is going to be moving into his crib. Or, rather, the crib is moving to her. For his part, he has new sheets and a brand new Thomas the Tank Engine blanket...one that he likes to cover the living room chair with and sit on like a throne. (The same living room chair, mind you, that we had to cut open last week searching for Kelly's cellphone.) I don't know what he'll think of sleeping on a mini version of our bed that he loves to play on so much. My guess is there will be very little sleeping...and quite a bit of bouncing. At least initially.

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