You know what happens when you only write once a week? You turn out bloated entries that take a year to read. That's what happens. I think I fell asleep before I finally got through the last one.
The Child, she is CRABBY. I'm so over this teething thing. One day (like yesterday), she's a constant ray of sunshine, grinning and giggling and gabbling nonstop, even when I put her down to sleep. The next day (like today! lucky me!), she's a black abyss, whining and crying and sobbing at the drop of a hat. I'm giving her half a dose of Tylenol once a day, but I have to use it judiciously. I know Tylenol is safe when it's used as directed, but I'm still uneasy about using it all the time. I don't want her liver to fall out when she's twelve because Mommy couldn't handle a day or two with a few tears.
We are going to see Star Trek next week. We are going to be out PAST THE CHILD'S BEDTIME. People, you have no idea how excited I am.
And this Friday James is going to watch The Child for the evening so I can go out with some friends. Not quite as exciting as both of us being gone for the evening, but still! I'm starting to feel like a normal human being again!
And yet I still want a baby again.
There is so much work to do around here. My floors are a biohazard, especially in the kitchen. I'm a very messy cook, and since chicken is about the only meat we can afford regularly, a lot of it gets flung on the floor. If the world dies from an outbreak of salmonella, it probably originated on my kitchen floor.
Many things I'm willing to let The Child get into; I think a sterile environment does more harm than good. But I'm not so keen on questionable paint chips from our front porch and chicken juice. Since she can now roll anywhere she wants to go (oh, I so wish I were kidding), I need to start cleaning up those things.
James is going to be going to South Africa (I know!) sometime this year. We don't know when, yet, which sucks because we can't make any longterm plans. Anyway, when that happens, I'd like to take a drive to visit with his side of the family in Indiana. It's about 5.5 hours with no stopping, so I don't know if it's feasible to do it by myself The Child in tow (which is half the point of going down there in the first place).
Unfortunately, gone are the days when I could just grab a friend and say, "Hey, let's drive to Indiana for the week!" Everyone has jobs or kids or responsibilities. Jerks. I would like for you people to tell me if it is possible to make such a trip without losing my mind. I have friends in the Chicago area, and if I asked nicely, one of them might let us camp out for the night. That would at least break the trip in two, even if the first leg is much shorter than the second.
Grace (when not teething) is a freakishly happy baby these days, but she also gets lonely easily; she's very, very social. I bought a mirror to install in the backseat so she can at least flirt with herself if she gets sad and peek at me in the rearview mirror, but we may need to stop every couple hours so she can get some real cuddling. I think I can make it work, but I'm not sure. And it's not exactly the sort of thing I can decide not to do if it doesn't seem to be working out.
Awesome Friend and her husband are overseas getting their son right now. They got to meet the birth mother, and I guess it was a very emotional visit. I feel so sorry for that woman. She faces execution if she shows up with an illegitimate child, so there's not much choice. Her son is Grace's age. I cannot imagine giving her up. Might as well dig out my chest cavity with a shovel. It'd be hard enough at birth, but she had him for months before she gave him to the orphanage. I think she wanted to keep him (she was hiding out in the house of a lady she did housekeeping for), but finally realized it wasn't feasible.
Anyway, I can't wait to meet him. I've seen grainy pictures of him, and he's adorable in those, so I'm sure he's just beautiful in person.
Time to wake up The Grouch. Now that she has teeth, I'm afraid she will bite my hand off one of these days. Wish me luck.