Surrounded by moms who rave about being a mom and who write blogs about how delightful it is to be wiping noses and how they wouldn't change it for the world, I, for one, beg to differ. Are they all saints, or all liars? I always feel like some kind of federal criminal around those women.
For 2 fortnights I have been cramming somekind of medicine or other down my kid's gullet multiple times a day, most of it (and subsequent mucus and other upchucks) winding up on me, battling jetlag (ok, fair enough, brought that on myself) and other such nonsense and frankly its not too glam. Having said that, here's the poor kid trying out sledding when we were in VT:
Having said that, Léna is now officially crawling and this has added a whole new dimension to our little family. Like a faithful dog, she follows me everywhere in the apartment, including the toilet closet. Estelle thinks this is hilarious, until her Playmobil stuff is under attack, then suddenly big sis becomes tres possessif. With similar zeal, Estelle got busy last wk chez Aunt Martha, rockin and rollin in her big cousin Alex & Eliza's doll accessory kit. Baby-choking nightmare. Notice it is up high.
It's pouring rain and wind today on Wednesday, the day off from school. We are using the day off to hunker down and recuperate still from our trip. Yesterday I was out teaching/working from 7:30 until 5, guzzling caffeine and occasionally speaking gibberish to my students, who thankfully don't know better. At the moment I am dreaming of a martini. No that's not true, I'm dreaming of sleep. Which I will go do right now since everyone is napping.
