sick days

Mom sick day:
Get up early to feed the baby while trying not to breathe/cough on him. Hear toddler wake up and talk to himself. Get his breakfast ready. Put baby down for nap. Make self tea. Get distracted by toddler doing something he shouldn't be. Find tea two hours later, cold. In the meantime, the baby needs a change of clothes due to a leaky diaper/spit up/both. Play with trains. Make lunch for toddler. Eat something, probably bread or cold pizza. Finally, both kids are "napping" at the same time, mom can sit. Wait, the baby's crying...time to feed him again. Toddler is wide awake when he should be sleeping, but at least he's staying in his bed. Make dinner for everyone, and hope you get to eat it while it's at least lukewarm. Fall into bed and thank God that the baby has been sleeping until at least 6am for a few weeks.

Dad sick day:
Asks for decongestant while still in bed at 8am. Gets up and moves to couch. Takes a nice, hot shower a few hours later. Sits on couch again. Goes to bed.

goals

As the mom of a newborn and a toddler, one of the milestones I was most looking forward to was that of Sleeping Through the Night. Noah has been a pretty good sleeper all along, which has saved my sanity, but even five hours in a row just wasn't cutting it anymore. We would sleep those five hours, then Noah would decide that eating every two hours was a much better plan. Suddenly, however, my child slept seven hours straight. And then went back to five. (I was not a fan.) I would attempt to reenact everything I did on the Night of Seven Hours of Sleep, and it would work. Sometimes it did, sometimes it didn't, but all I know is that the last four days I have slept from 9:30 until about 6. So I will not be changing anything anytime soon. (Except that I'm working on potty training said toddler, so I'm sure I'll have exactly 2.5 weeks of good sleep, and then I'll be woken up again. Sigh.)

And Some People Say There's No Difference...

between boys and girls.

We were at Monkey Joe's. Monkey Joe's, the land of giant inflatables where children run free. They climb and jump and slide surrounded by primary colors and flashing lights and the whir of the air-blowing machines. It's heaven for Davis, a giant indoor playland. He could spend the whole day there, red-faced, sweaty, and happy, and I wish we could, because it costs an arm and a leg to get into that place. We go once or twice a year for a special treat.

Zoe, though, is getting whiny. It's a bit much for her. She is clinging to me. "Mommy," she intones, "when are we going to do something special?"

I look at her. "Zoe, we're at Monkey Joe's."

"No," she explains, "something special. Like a craft."

talent

Daniele shared something deep and meaningful and beautiful to prepare our hearts for Christmas.
I'm preparing your eardrums. And yes, it's only December 2nd and I've already had to sing this song about 2394802983059 times. Oh well, 'tis the season.

Merry Christmas!