To-Do

1. Take babies to school. Wish them happy 3rd Birthday. Contemplate adopting (when we get back) the kitten that was born on daycare property a couple of weeks ago (it's fuzzy! and black!)
2. Pack for Florida trip by noon.
3. Remember: camera, sunscreen, aloe in case sunscreen fails us.
4. Bathing suits. Cute sundresses.
5. Pack tummy meds for babies with "the wobblies." (Fun for a road trip, though!)
6. Toys, including Maia's new "Princess Tea Party."
7. Road Snacks (PB&J, pretzels, bottles of water. Maybe brownies if I am in the mood to bake them later)
8. Finish work related crap here before leaving.
9. Wonder why my "v" key is sticking. (Babies....)
10. Get on road by noon. In Florida about 8 hours later.
11. Back home either next Thursday or Friday-ish.

I don't know what kind of internet access I will have-- very possibly NONE. So if I don't blog 'til I get back, that's it. It's not that I don't love you all. I do. But I have beaches to walk on and sunscreen to spread on babies salty little skin.

Box of Smiles

Although I can hardly believe it, tomorrow is the babies' THIRD birthday! And, since we'll be getting on the road at around noon, they will miss their "snack time" at daycare. So, today, the daycare is celebrating their birthday with a box full of chocolate cupcakes & those little bags full o kid crapola. Rubber balls, stick on tattoos of the rat from Ratatouille, stickers, gumballs, etc.

I got the cupcakes from one of the local awesome bakeries. When I paid, yesterday, I thought "ooh, I should have just gone to Sam's." But after picking them up this morning, I was glad that I went to the extra expense. Aren't they the CUTEST cupcakes you've ever seen?

Since Maia is really "in" to pink stuff, we went with boy/girl themed. It's going to be a chocolate day for those kiddos. I'm sure all the other kids' parents will thank me for getting them all hopped up on sugar just before they head home. Mwha hahahahahahaha!

Oh boy this week

It's just been so busy! And then next week we'll be in Parts Southerly. I just haven't had time to write anything useful or beautiful. Granted, those pix of the babies were beautiful but ....

Yesterday, a trip to the dentist for the kiddos. Good news for Maia, not as good for Sean, who won't let me brush his teeth for him. I have Lots to Say about the fact that in the dentists' office, which, as far as I could see, had at least two female dentists, there was this photo of the staff, probably at their Christmas party. All the 20-30 women (maybe it included spouses or something, too) were standing, arranged behind these four men in dark suits who were sitting on chairs. The spacing of the men was very wide. It looked, for all the world, like four "owners" of all those fine womenfolk. A harem. I don't even know if those men were the doctors & the women all the hygienists, or what. If the women dentists were among the women in the background while the males of the "firm" were spread around in front, I am hugely offended for them. It was just disturbing, I have to say. However, I doubt that many around the Swampland would even get that and would think I were a rabble rouser (well I am) if I said anything about it.

Today is another busy busy day. I have no idea how I'm going to get everything that I need to get done this week finished before we have to pack up the car on, eeeeek, tomorrow!!!

Again, I wish for a gadget that stops time while I whirl around doing things. Or that wiggle your nose ability that Samantha has. I like option two better. That, please.

Pleef!

Let me tell you that water sealing a huge kids' fort on a Monday afternoon is sucky. And sticky, too. In case you were wondering.

My eyelids are kinda sticking to my eyebrow area/ridge on account of trying to paint the "ceiling" area above my head. I'm gonna have to figure out a better way to do that.

And dammit, it's like, 90 degrees out there!! These kids owe me. Big time. :)

But in the meantime, a couple pictures of Saturday. We went downtown to the Farmer's Market by the Festival Square and they have this lovely public fountain thingy.

Fort!

Finally done. This morning, out there at the crack of morning. :)

Excitement in the Swampland

Around here, usually our excitement comes in at watching the babies swim in the pool.

But yesterday, I went off with a friend to see the Sex and the City movie (which I liked) and also hung out at our local bookstore. At the bookstore, I found out there's a book festival/author festival coming soon to my little old hometown. Yay! So I'm in the process of trying to get my website, Women Writers, involved in some way in that. Self-promotion and fun, yes, but also a chance to meet some of my little old hometown area's writers & maybe even "mover and shaker" types. Try to get my website proposal to book format done before hand. I've already contacted a couple of folks who are coming to the festival for interview/meetup sorts of things.

Also, I found out that one of my favorite book series, the Charlaine Harris Southern Vampire series, is coming out as a series on HBO called True Blood. It looks kind of awesome from what I saw online. Some weird Southern accents, but that's normal. People hire a dialect coach if they're doing some accents but everyone and their sister thinks all they have to do is drawl a little and they're authentic Southern. :) Anyway. There's a couple of spots on YouTube-- I'll post the one I like most. Charlaine Harris actually lives around these parts, and the series is set in my hometown, and some details are very realistic. I like the looks of it and am looking forward to the premiere. I apparently missed the pilot, though. I hope it runs again soon.


So that's excitement for us. The fort is 90% done, the trip to FL is still on, friends and family to see, and today, I have laundry to do. And a cool TV series to look forward to. Sigh of happy.

Little Ants

We drink Splenda in our coffee, but we keep it next to the espresso machine in a sterling silver-plated sugar bowl. Acorn pattern. A little bit of fake in a little bit of, well, fancier fake. I'm telling you this because, if he comes upon the sugar bowl not tucked away but out on the countertop where he can reach it, my son likes to push both of his fists into the powdery/grainy sugar substitute and fling bits of it everywhere. It falls like dry bits of snowy sugary fairy dust from his hands. Some of it makes it into his mouth, but most of it lies strewn all over whatever surface is nearby.

Yesterday, that surface was my poor depressed laptop. She is getting old, and decrepit. In spite of having gotten a new harddrive about 2 years ago, and probably because of having been dropped at least one time, the laptop I used to call Pele is running painfully slow. Now, there is sugar stuck under the keys. I hear a little crunchy noise as I type, especially over in the "r" and "s" area.

I call the babies (cause actually, both of them do it, Sean is just the more enthusiastic) my little ants whenever they get into the sugar. But they may just be the death of my little red lava laptop before too long.

Florida Bound: T-minus 10 days!

For the weekend before the fourth of July, we are headed to my old homestate Florida. We had kicked around options of a vacation that way previously, since many of my family members, who haven't seen the babies in ages, still live there.

We found a way to combine business and pleasure, as Andrew will do a day of training nearby. So his work will pay for the gas, which is awesome with gas at 4 bucks a gallon and an 8 hour drive. I just pre-reserved a room for part of the stay at a lodging which is right on the beach there. It's not confirmed yet, because it's part of his military system privledges on base, but I am very happy that we've gotten that far. (He stayed on hold on the phone for like 20 minutes and then was disconnected while I researched the options.) It's also not quite on THIS beach. It will be a little different looking where we are, but pretty nice, nevertheless.

Oh, the babies will love it so much. We will get to see family, and the babies will play with cousins in the sand. I'll see my mom & 100 (101 this year) year old Grandmother. And, officially, we are now participating in the Redneck Riviera Quest. Usually, people from our area of the country use that part of Florida as their major vacay destination. I used to, as a teen, mock this sort of thing, and now I'm doing it. Hah!

















Here, though, is a picture of what we will be going towards. This is what I currently have as my desktop on my computer. I'll post real pix when we get there.

I totally can't wait. Last time I was really there for any beach time was when I went to my neice's high school graduation and got stuck there because my space a flight on Delta-ish was overbooked for several days. My sister & I rented one of those beach chairs with the umbrella (maybe not those exact ones, but close) and had a waitress bringing us Bushwackers all afternoon and a cute little lifeguard beach boy moving the umbrella to keep us shaded. Sigh. It was fab. It will be different this time, but still awesome.

Jah Heat

The closest I've ever been to Jamaica.*

Summer 1991, a beach bar in Florida. Dark weekend night, bodies pressed close together on the sand dance floor, bare feet buried deep for stability, braced slightly spread. Cool wet sand just under the sugary still warm white top sand. Dancing to a middle-aged white-guy cover band, who can flip from Jimmy Buffet to Bob Marley in one song. Drinking iced-down but toxic liquor--the bartender says "All the light alcohol mixed, with a splash of cranberry or coke" from a mason jar left to sweat on the graying picnic tables parked to one side of the dancing.

People are moving slow, that lazy sexual beat of Marley's tunes, bodies keeping just far enough away for public decency. Sweat trickles down the backs of knees, makes a cool spot down the leg, and the light from the bar catches glistening spots here, there-- a cheek, a thigh.

For me, there is a kind of peaceful strangeness, ironic clash, in dancing, getting a bit drunk on dancing and alcohol, to Marley's lyrics: "Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery; None but ourselves can free our minds"-- "Exodus: movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah! Movement of Jah people! Send us another brother Moses!" Lyrics about Revolution, about Holy Retribution. About Jah, the great Messianic God of the Rastafarians. And yet, here we are, a mostly white, young crowd, some dancing in bikini tops with cut off shorts. Most have spent the day suntanning, some are making out on the dance floor. They are on vacation, and they are sin personified. And we don't really blame them.

Most people have no idea what the songs say. If you asked them, told them, they would be surprised that this party music, those pot smoking Rastas, were anything other than what they seem-- peaceful zoned out hippies. Would God mind our revelry, see it as pagan ignorance? I like to think not. He made wine at the wedding, hung out with the whores and thieves. He knew that often the sinners are the ones who most understand redemption.

It is a bliss of a sort... this wet heat, the wind blowing salty and slightly musty, tasting of seaweed and fish, off the slow waves of the gulf, the gulf which here luminesces emerald blue in the day against the snowy white, white beaches. We forget anything else but here. Now.

*************************************************
*Inspired by this morning's CD selection in the car, and a wandering mind remembering those days.

Custer Treatment

According to biographer Evan Connell*, (among others) General Custer had his ears punctured by Indian women after his death. The point was that Custer had broken his promise over a peace pipe and the women wanted him to hear better in the afterlife. I was told that story years ago in my Native American history class and I've always found it interesting on many levels.

So all this week, I've been calling Sean's treatment the Custer Treatment. It's interesting because if you think of it, people must have been performing some form of this treatment for a long time if the Indians associated poking holes in the ears with better hearing.

This morning, about an hour ago, Sean had his ears poked and tubes inserted. We were all up at the crack of 6:00, at the clinic, where sister Maia also helped and was a pretty good girl. She charmed the nurses pretty well and was very disappointed to go to school. But she was being very noisy and demanding the center of attention and I think Sean deserves a day of quiet rest, so she's at school. We're not looking forward to the 2 week pool prohibition, though. Blech!

Daddy & Sean are now resting in the other room. I will join them in a moment where I will read a book & drink coffee. I'm kinda tired, too, actually, but I think one of us should stay awake to monitor the baby, even though he seems just fine. It's mom worry-ness, and probably silly.

Anyway. We'll see how well this works. I'm very hopeful; the other day I had a dream where Sean was talking to us like a normal (almost) 3 year old. Here's to it being a true dream.

And to Sean hearing much, much better in his entire life than Custer did.

*Son of the Morning Star isbn 0-86547-160-6

Blue Meditation

My fingertips and legs and around my face
my thighs my armpits my belly,
where the
starred freckle mole marks my northward path
bellybutton,

all are becoming
blue.

I think of Blue Tara.

Think of mastering my desires,
think of compassion:
look out for the stars,
long for night, and fireflies, and lotus flowers
with nestled jewels.

I sit, cross-legged, hope for serenity and
the sound of water.

Am I becoming this goddess?
or is it just the secondhand dress from India
blue dye not properly set
and everyplace I touch with these bluetipped fingers....

Is it mundane, or divine?
And, more importantly, does it wash off?

Being Mom

So I'm thinking about mothers. On the Wom-Po listserv, there's been a discussion about the "mother-daughter wars" inspired, in part, by Rebecca Walker & Alice Walker, and the book Rebecca has written which apparently is not so positive about Alice. I want to read the book; it's on my list of things to get next trip to B&N. I've been a fan of Rebecca since I learned what Third Wave feminism is, and I think I get what she's been saying pretty well, minus having actually READ the book yet.

I am also reading a Joyce Carol Oates' book called Missing Mom-- just started it, but it's good so far. (And sidenote-- I think Oates has one of the best author photos out there... she looks all dreamy and wide eyed...pretty, in a kind of brainy girl way). It promises to have been written around the time Oates' mother died, and is about the inevitable final separation we all face.

So moms: I try to be a good mom. We always have these things we promise ourselves we will never do, things we catch ourselves doing anyway. The other day I told my daughter I'd "give her something to cry about." To my credit, I was joking. She was whiney and crabby all day and I really felt frustrated with her, and wanted her to stop. And it popped into my head and I thought, "hey, it's a classic." I know the ridiculousness of whacking a crying kid to stop them from crying, though. And just saying it made the urge to do so go away, and me to laugh, and get a grip on it and then distract her, instead, with a visit to her Curious George poster.

Andrew & I are what is called Attachment parents, in most ways. We try very hard to not over discipline, but to encourage the babies with love. Yes, discipline is needed. But we spend a lot of time with our kids. We don't drop them at the babysitter's house after they've been a daycare all day (although I can understand when there is a need for that, too-- people have to earn a living.) We feed them as best as we can, we try to be educated about childhood illness, we cheer when they do something well, we read to them, sometimes as much as 30 minutes a night. And yet, we miss things. We missed Sean's hearing issue. We sometimes let Maia get away with being a prissy whiney thing, and give her what she wants just so she'll stop whining.

But, we apparently do the unpardonable sins of letting them watch TV. Of letting them eat junk food for dinner sometimes. Of letting them run loose a bit when we're at the store (I get scowls from the patrons of one of the stores, the one closest to home, for this one).

As they get older, I know we'll miss a few catches. And those are the things, inevitably, that my children will probably remember best. Not the hours of snuggling, waking with tickles, etc. But the one thing we do that we regret instantly. The day we did X when Maia or Sean wanted to do Y.

I think of this and hope that my children will have the perspective to recognize that as a mom, I'm not perfect, but I'm always trying. It's the best I can do, even when I am not doing anything else well, I am pretty proud of my mommy-skills. At least now, before they are teens.

Pledging

I had all these big dreams about what was going to be accomplished this summer. Write that novel that's floating around in my head, write a few articles for publications so I am a good academic, clean the house better, exercise & lose 20 pounds. Propose a book based on Women Writers.

So far, I've done a few things-- updated the Women Writers page, gotten a new poetry editor, gotten a bunch of apps for the fiction editor that need to be looked at. That was a big project, but overall, I feel like summer is slipping through my fingers and all I'm doing is a big fat nothing. Yes, I've written and submitted a few poems. But I have so many things that I just don't get done during the semester when I am teaching. Mostly, I need to learn to budget the small hours of the day that I have to be creative rather than being mom. I have from approx. 8-approx 3:30. Yes, during that time I still have to be mom, a lot. I have to grocery shop, pick up the mess a bit, etc.

But I'll admit, I am a bit lazy, too. I feel like I'm still decompressing from the years of being stressed and anxious about writing the dissertation and finally being done with that. I couldn't do it last year because we were so busy with Andrew's father's cancer & death. And last summer was filled with that traveling, and then the mourning. And still, all the daily mundane domestic tasks.

So anyway. I'm whining about it a little bit as a way to attempt to motivate myself, put it on public record that I need to start writing something every day. A little bit of the novel, a poem, the articles. Something so that I don't come to August and say "well, that was too fast and I did read a few good books but otherwise...."

So feel free to hold me to that.

Shopping At Goodwill

Oh I love going into this "high end" Goodwill shop near my house. Since I live on the edges of the rich folks' area, we get some really really good donations at this Goodwill. Silk for 3.99. Things that have never even been worn. I popped in there today because I remembered I hadn't been in a long time and spent 100 bucks on stuff for school in the Fall and for summer fun wearing, too. Mostly skirts. Happy happy, joy joy. Fringy red sweater thing. Sigh of happy.

I had something clever I was going to post this morning, but now my brain has gone away from clever and into "annoyed with contractor and happy with shopping and ready for lunch" land. So that's what you get.

Circle the Wagons: Day Two

'Cuz the fort aint built yet. In fact, it doesn't LOOK much different from what it looked yesterday. Yes, they leveled it off using the fort leveling gadgets. That took a long time and I'm mostly good with that because if you start it off right, it will be better.

But why is it that every. single. contractor. type. in the world can't understand the radical notion that "I'll be by in the morning" means coming by BEFORE one in the afternoon? It means, like, MORNING?

It says on the directions that it will take 20 hours. However, I'm pretty sure that's 20 hours of actual work. Magic fort-building elves don't come by every few hours and hammer in a notch or two. (At least, not by our place. Those damned elves never stop by here).

Oy chihuahua. At this rate, it will be pushing it for the fort to be done by babies' birthday.

Fort Construction!

Has begun! We have a very nice guy coming by to put together Fort Monkey (maybe? I have to think up a good name. Maybe a name contest....). He started this morning and we have decided more needs to be done to level out the ground where the fort will be. So he's gone now, but will come back tomorrow.

Here, then, is phase 1 of fort building. I really hope it will be all set and done by babies' birthday on June 27. I want to have a 3 year party that day and so if it's all done, it will be a cool birthday present instead of those boxes that are killing the grass. :) The dead grass is where their tent was. Yup. We like killin' grass around here. But it's convenient, because that's where I want the tower part of the fort to stand. As you can see.

Sick day has gone pretty well but tomorrow, I think they're going to school 'cuz they are NOT sick anymore. At least not today. Maybe tonight, when darkness falls, the fever will come back (I hope not!)

Sick Day

I have a sick baby boy today. Well, actually, he was sick last night; he ran a fever of 102ish all afternoon and then last night. This morning, he's a little clingy/sweet but doesn't have a fever. I myself have a bit of a headache, so it's probable that whatever he has mommy has too in either a milder or its earlier form. So I kept both kids home from school/daycare. We didn't wake up 'til almost 9:00 (daddy left very early for work so we slept in).

So far, both kiddos have been pretty energetic, though. We went outside, weeded the garden, and now they're eating popsicles and watching Flushed Away. OOps. Well, I guess I need to go cause Sean just walked up and I can smell the fruits of his recent efforts. Mommy business calls.

Ah, Humanity

I was reading over a couple of various news stories just now while the babies are napping and husband is at work. I like to scroll through the google news feed just to see what's happening in the world, to keep up with the big headlines without getting too bogged down in the horror that can be the daily news.

I read over a blog/news post about the tragedy of the young boy who died of dry drowning and was horrified by the comments section where people argued over petty grammar issues and I'm positive one poster varied his/her pseudonym several times to make snarky, irrelevent comments. Several people tried to point out how petty it was to post about a grammar error in such a tragic blog post, but the majority of the large mass of comments was snarky argument. Then I scrolled down and saw a NYTimes post about the 78 year old man who was hit by a car while people passed by and did not help him. Granted, it apparently was only a minute or so, and some four people did call 911, but the image of that man lying there for that long alone in the street like a dog is in my head now. Finally, peering in on the catfight (I can't really call it much else) for publicity about Spike Lee & Clint Eastwood at Cannes was bad enough but then reading, again, over the comments section where people are bitching about tiny petty things rather than actually debating anything serious, are jumping to personal attacks and stupidness.

I'm frankly a bit sad about the state of the Internet, and humanity, right this second. IN the face of horror and human pain we worry about what coin Abe Lincoln is on, what grammar is used to report a tragedy, what links are used for referencing an issue.

Now, I'm all for spellcheck, and I believe firmly in people learning intelligent debate. But the level of pettiness in these several different examples of behavior just bums me out.

To-Do List

I normally don't do "to do" lists. But I admire them when other people do them and magically check items off. So here is my current list:

• Laundry (eternally in progress)
• Networking computer issues (call Nerdgirl Computers)
• Work on articles: Anne Sexton, Zora Neale Hurston, Tarot rewrite
• Work on novel in progress (5,350 words right now)
• Clean house
• Read a book for fun
• Womenwriters website-- fiction editor--review proposals --draft proposal for publication --figure out listserv problem
• get pool water checked
• work out/ go to gym
• grocery shop
• go to lunch with K next week
• find someone to put together the fort
• propose Continuing Ed class
• clean house (didn’t I say that already?)
• feel guilty for not getting most of above done
• obsess over what the hell I'm leaving out. I know there's SOMEthing.

Parlez-Vous La Vache?

Early in my relationship with Andrew, he related a story to me about his Aunt. She was a feisty lady, who was a school teacher & goat rancher & one of those tall red headed ladies who speak with a drawl and epitomize "Texan."

A crazy peripheral relative (Andrew's former sister-in-law) who worked as an accountant at an oil company was asking the Rancher Aunt Geneva about her cows. It was a stereotypical Texan conversation, really-- the rancher talking to the oil company employee-- sounds like the setup for some kind of joke, really.

Anyhoo. Sister in law says: "But aren't those kinds of cow really stupid?" To which Aunt Geneva replied, "Well, Ah don't know, but Ah Taught mahn to speak French." (My rendering of the accent sucks but I want you to know... read this with that Texas drawl. Think that movie No Country For Old Men).

Andrew & I used to laugh about this, the idea that SOME cows were stupider than others. Don't get me wrong; I think it's quite likely that cows are very sweet animals. But they aren't the brightest animals on the food chain. And I can just hear the comeback. Sister in law was trying to act smart about something she just didn't know anything about, and ended up being the butt of one of those jokes. I wouldn't be relating this joke now if it weren't for the fact that crazy sister in law is being a bit of a butt, herself, and it's on my mind how annoying family can be. This way, I can think, instead, of the funnier moments rather than the irritating ones.

So the next time you're having a grilled something or other, you can wonder if this is a French-speaking steak. (Does that come off wrong? Oh, how could it really come off right is probably the better question.)

One More Minute

To sip the last dregs of my coffee before tickling babies awake. One more minute to read up on a blogger/writer I haven't been very faithful to--I stopped going by the blog even though I really like it because I don't know why; I'll analyze it later. One more minute to be amazed at how much better Eddie Van Halen looks on the cover of Rolling Stone that is sitting next to my computer (SOMEone bought me a subscription-- I actually don't know who) than he did in the last picture I saw (I know he had cancer and was sick so I am a terrible person but dude, he was out in public and he looked awful). Amazed at his stylist, who made him look less like a sick crack ho than he did before and actually kinda hot. One more minute to think about how happy I will be if the ENT appointment we have for Sean today reveals that yes, his speech delay is fluid in his ears and not "mild" autism and the same exact minute to worry about what we'll do if it is autism (love him anyway. work a bit harder.) One more minute to enjoy the cool air conditioning on the back of my wet hair, the stiff neck that is starting up from my reading at the laptop. One more minute to plan to get my sandals from downstairs, lotion from the front room, purse, keys, phone. One more minute before my very busy day starts......

Once More To The Lake

Every summer I have big big plans for things that I will accomplish, and then I see the days zoom past at lightspeed. It's not a complaint, really, but I just wonder, sometimes, how I used to accomplish so much!*

Anyway... we went to Canyon Lake this weekend. It was very very nice. Yes, there were hotrodders zooming past drunkenly on their jet skis but we are in a cove, sort of, so they rarely come too close. They just make waves, which the babies love anyway.

Maia loved the deer. They are over populated and inbred, and survive largely on deer corn, which is like humans living off of Big Macs alone. Yes, just that bad, but they love it. We mix a little barley & feed into the corn, but very few people do. We also feed the deer veggies-- usually, they eat that AFTER the corn is all gone. Maia would beg "More corn?" and toss one or two kernels at a time. One medium sized buck kept coming up stepping onto the porch. He swiped a piece of pizza off of my plate (I did NOT see that coming). Luckily for my conscience, at least it was Whole Foods apple & gorgonzola, so I have not turned the deer into a carnivore, (yet).

Babies cruised the shoreline with daddy in the kayak. Andrew is a bit of a "Great Santini" with grown ups about the kayak; I don't really enjoy going out with him. But he was sweet & nice with the babies and they really seemed to pick it up, swinging the very light oars in the proper sequence. Not that they really used them to push the kayak but they're 3!

We flew kites, which Maia loved to do, and she did quite well. Sean just wanted to hold the kite string and let it go... freedom! But the kites usually snagged on one of the scrubby wildflowers on the "beach" and so were rescued. He did it three times-- more me the stupid one for letting him sucker me again.

We had a pretty low stress drive, as well. Yes, it took hours (9 for the way there, about 7.5 on the way back-- fewer stops for playing). But otherwise, nice day, blue skies, babies eating pb&j in the back seat watching their DVDs and (mostly) happy.

Today, I have SOOOOO many errands to run and things to do. But I have the weekend and memories of relaxing, yes, relaxing to keep like a little jewel that I can take out and polish sometimes in the midst of all the tasks which will stay undone and things that will be checked off the list. Me, like a tall golem, mouthing "precious" and remembering how nice our teeny tiny vacation was.

And look at that face.... how much more precious can one baby be?


****************************************************************************

*(I do know-- the days used to be longer. I used to stay up 'til midnight, drinking a glass of wine and playing on the computer for hours hours while the husband watched basketball... now it's off to bed at 9, intending to get up later, but that never happens).