Chad comes home today, and not a moment too soon... because I'm feeling stupid tired again. Tired enough that someone made a joke yesterday about the gas company, and I didn't get it. (Um, where do I work again?) Tired enough that when I just reread what I wrote here yesterday, I realized that it didn't make nearly as much sense written down as it did in my head - too many unrelated thoughts strung together without enough explanation. Chalk it up to exhaustion. The problem is not just kiddos who go to bed late and get up early; it's also that I tend to stay up really late when Chad is away - I'm not so good at sleeping when I'm alone in the house. Even if 'alone' now means that there are 3 of us.
Another reason why I'm feeling tired - a reason I will have to get used to - is that Mallory is on the move. I mean, she is really and truly on the move. Not just shimmying and rolling now, she has a full-on army crawl that gets her from A to B in no time flat. Consequently, she is into EVERYTHING. Upending laundry baskets, chewing on bags of disposable diapers, going after my magazines... the works. To make matters worse, we introduced the walker the other day - the device that was outlawed here years ago on account of too many of them being pitched down staircases. (Luckily we live in and old house with a narrow basement staircase that requires a dogleg turn to get down; even if the gate weren't closed, I don't think there's any way she could manoeuvre through it.) The first day, she just rocked the walker back and forth. Now, 48 hours later, she is an old pro with it, zipping around the house with lightning speed, pulling cookbooks off shelves and opening kitchen drawers that are at her eye level - and the fingerprints! Oh, the fingerprints all over the stainless appliances and glass sidelights at the front door... now there are little sets of hers here, there and everywhere, to match the ones Liam also leaves behind, and the noseprints that come courtesy of Captain.
Chad comes home today, and not a moment too soon... because I'm feeling stupid tired again. Tired enough that someone made a joke yesterday about the gas company, and I didn't get it. (Um, where do I work again?) Tired enough that when I just reread what I wrote here yesterday, I realized that it didn't make nearly as much sense written down as it did in my head - too many unrelated thoughts strung together without enough explanation. Chalk it up to exhaustion. The problem is not just kiddos who go to bed late and get up early; it's also that I tend to stay up really late when Chad is away - I'm not so good at sleeping when I'm alone in the house. Even if 'alone' now means that there are 3 of us.
Another reason why I'm feeling tired - a reason I will have to get used to - is that Mallory is on the move. I mean, she is really and truly on the move. Not just shimmying and rolling now, she has a full-on army crawl that gets her from A to B in no time flat. Consequently, she is into EVERYTHING. Upending laundry baskets, chewing on bags of disposable diapers, going after my magazines... the works. To make matters worse, we introduced the walker the other day - the device that was outlawed here years ago on account of too many of them being pitched down staircases. (Luckily we live in and old house with a narrow basement staircase that requires a dogleg turn to get down; even if the gate weren't closed, I don't think there's any way she could manoeuvre through it.) The first day, she just rocked the walker back and forth. Now, 48 hours later, she is an old pro with it, zipping around the house with lightning speed, pulling cookbooks off shelves and opening kitchen drawers that are at her eye level - and the fingerprints! Oh, the fingerprints all over the stainless appliances and glass sidelights at the front door... now there are little sets of hers here, there and everywhere, to match the ones Liam also leaves behind, and the noseprints that come courtesy of Captain.
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