Monday, October 14, 2013


I titled this post 'Busyness.'  Then I googled the word 'busyness.'  One of the definitions given was "sustaining much activity."  That's me, folks, that's me.  There is at least one day a week that we stay home all day, perhaps never shedding our pajamas, but don't let that fool you; at home or on the road, I sustain much activity.

I recently mentioned the insanity that has befallen me.  Here's the short version of it . . . my parents sold their house, bought another one, & thus I have to face a demon I've known would one day catch up to me, my former closet.  Add to all this the impending birth of my niece (which requires no actual work on my part but is a general stresser), my four month old who's not sleeping all that much when the moon is in the sky, a part-time job that I'm actually expected to perform, & the general duties of a mother of two, & I am, what's the expression?  Pooped?  Yes, that's more than appropriate to describe my life lately.

*A quick aside: Seriously Henry is a terrible sleeper lately.  It's awful.  I am a zombie.  Some nights he wakes every hour & a half.  He's eating cereal now at night, & I am certain all this waking is not hunger. As of last Friday he's taking Zantac for possible reflux, but so far no change in his sleeping pattern.  When he was younger he'd sleep three, often four hours before waking to eat.  I don't think this is attributable to a growth spurt either as it's been going on for about a month now.  He doesn't nap well either, & I wonder if he's overtired . . . but don't know how to solve this since he won't sleep.  If you're a mother reading this & you have any suggestion, any suggestion at all, no matter how cooky it sounds, please share.*  

So, where to begin?  I'd first like to share these pics of Reagan I took a few Saturdays ago.  I took her to the movies for the first time.  We met some friends who wanted to see Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, Part 2.  The plot was a little too complicated for her (& with the little sleep I'd had, for me too, honestly), but like the women who came before her, she enjoys sitting in the darkened theater & stuffing her face with popcorn & slirpping a coke.

Here's her 'smile' face:

And one I snapped when I hadn't told her to smile, which is really the best option these days:

Reagan 'smiling' in one of her new fall church dresses:

Henry in his fancy Ralph Lauren church outfit from his Aunt Donna.  The fanciness in no way deterred  the spit up:

If we're not at church, & I'm not in the classroom shaping the leaders of tomorrow, the three of us are usually hanging around the house (often, one of us literally hangs):

Reagan reading to Henry:

General lounging:

(I may've neglected to mention this before, but Reagan has an extensive Hello Kitty wardrobe.  It coordinates nicely with her Hello Kitty flatware, plates, bowls, & doll collection).

Aforementioned doll collection:

My newest accessory:

When Henry allows for separation, Reagan & I do things like decorate the house for fall . . . 

. . . and work on her Halloween costume:

I know it may seem fairly mundane, but while they appear joyful & relaxed, staying home with two young kids is hard work.  It's much harder than I'd imagined, & that's just the staying home part.  A visit to the grocery store is a whole other blog post.  Granted, it may not seem quite so difficult if I could manage, say, three or four consecutive hours of sleep.  Perhaps soon.  Please, Lord, soon!  At times I am nostalgic for the years I worked full time at a university & was required to be at work at 7:30 in the morning.  Oh, it was difficult dragging myself up there that early, but once at work, I sat at my desk in my quiet, peaceful office & drank hot coffee while I read through emails.  The key words in the previous sentence are, sat, quiet, peaceful, hot coffee, & read.  These words dance in my dreams now.    

I'm working on Busyness, Part Deux.  Very soon you'll be treated to a hilarious pictorial of what I found in my childhood closet.  Here's a sneak peek:

It's really just perfect timing finding Zack Morris in my closet the week I am turning thirty-three.  That really hammers my age home.  Well Zack, & an infant who wakes me all night long; both make me feel sufficiently ancient.


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