Well, bt, we're all sleeping, but mostly because we have completely given up. She sleeps in our bed, between us; about once a week, one of us will move her to her own bed after she's dropped off, but she always wakes up sobbing as soon as that sleep cycle ends, so we take her back into our bed because otherwise it'll escalate to shrieks and howls. But at least with her in the bed we're all getting a minimum of six unbroken hours, which is much needed.
She does like to pretend to sleep in her bed during the day, and when we wake her too early on get-up-and-go mornings she'll weep, "I want to go back to bed!" and promptly crawl into her own bed and pull the covers over her head. But, at night, it's all about the big bed. Shrug. We'll try again in a few months.
I'm sorry it's not got better than that. At least you're getting some sleep.
Well, the sleep itself is pretty glorious, after the ten harrowing nights of hideous battle. I love sleep so very, very much.
And, as much as I'm past ready for this stage to be over, there is still something unbearably sweet about Matilda burrowing into the crook of my arm as she lets herself fall into unconsciousness. I'm never not aware that our time with this grunty nestling baby mammal intimacy is limited, and that even though I made her out of my own body she'll keep growing away from me and into herself, and that's natural and normal and these are just little moments in her story.
And now I think I have to go snuzzle her for about nineteen more hours.
Morning, y'all.
I'm never not aware that our time with this grunty nestling baby mammal intimacy is limited, and that even though I made her out of my own body she'll keep growing away from me and into herself, and that's natural and normal and these are just little moments in her story.
That is just so beautiful and poignant, JZ.
Eco footnote to my salon visit yesterday - they use reuseable "foils" now for highlighting. They're made of a very thin closed cell foam that just rinses clean. Kinda neat.
Delta update: got an email back that they can't find my reservation. They need my dates of travel (which I gave them) and my flight numbers (which I don't have) or my ticket number (which I don't have). I mean, damn, if I knew those things I could look it up my own damn self! I think it's time to try talking to an actual human. Assuming I can locate one.
I hope you can get the ticket sorted out, smonster. How frustrating.
I was actually lying awake last night trying to puzzle out in what circumstances troop can be singular and why sometimes it sounds like the singular of trousers or scissors. I didn't reach any conclusions, except that language is peculiar.
ION, I am huge over here. This was taken over the weekend: [link]
ION, I am huge over here. This was taken over the weekend:
I think there's something living in you....
