I wanted to commit to blogging way more and posting pictures every time and being engaging and interesting and not constantly whining, but what I have come to realize is:
I can blog more, but whatever appears here is just going to be what it is. Whatever I have time for. Whatever I am feeling/thinking/smelling.
So I'll just start with that.
This was a nice weekend. Me and my husband didn't fight at all (what our arguments really boil down to is "I CARE." "I CARE MORE." "I'M TOO TIRED TO CARE." "GO TO BED."), and we actually went and saw a movie, which means we were without our nine-month-old for about three hours. Of course, we sat at the back of the theater scratching our faces and bouncing our knees because we were anxious about how he was getting on with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece, but we should have known he'd be completely fine, and he was.
It was the first time we'd been out in five months, which is just preposterous. But it's difficult to make the effort when you're exhausted.
Saturday night my husband picked up our neighbors from the airport -- they stayed at a Sandals resort in the Bahamas (I will kill them with my jealous rage) -- and I read a little (The Bone Clocks -- loving it), slept a little, and watched Dallas Buyers Club (good stuff. Jared Leto was amazing).
Sleep is still so elusive. Graham sometimes sleeps through the night, but his regular wakeup time when he does that is 5:30 a.m. I think we can all agree that is a hellacious hour to get out of bed, but he's as cheerful as an elf on crack. About 65% of the time he wakes around 3 or 4 a.m. and I need to nurse him back down and then I can't get back to sleep and I lie in bed and hate my brain as it makes REALLY STUPID LISTS of things I need to do that day. ("Well lessee here I need to do the laundry and get the groceries and make the baby food ..." WHO CARES EVERY DAY IS THE SAME AS THE DAY BEFORE YOU WILL BE FINE IF YOU DON'T THINK ABOUT IT FIVE HOURS IN ADVANCE YOU ASSHOLE)
My brain is as asshole.
Also, my skeleton hurts because I have The Olds and when you are the elderly parent of a nine-month-old, it hurts to heave your carcass off the floor after playing with your child. Being a little chunky monkey doesn't help matters, I'm sure.
I am getting out more. I am still thinking a lot about sleep training (I am weak). I am thinking about losing weight. I am thinking about a birthday coming up next month. I am thinking about having work done on the house. And I? Am hiring someone to clean my house. Which is pretty much the best idea I've had in a couple years.
That's all for now. Stay tuned for more of the minutiae of my days.