azriona: (Default)
 Apparently I am incapable of teaching children how to talk, and therefore Charlie had his first speech therapy appointment this morning. It was Take Number Three, because the previous two attempts at an appointment this week were cancelled as the therapist was sick. The first morning, Monday, we were already on our way to the appointment when we got the call (via Bill) that it was cancelled. The make-up appointment was Wednesday, and we got all the way into the office only to learn it was cancelled. (They had my phone number wrong, which is why I didn't get a call on Monday. I admit, I had been thinking that they didn't call the moms at all - because oh why bother we have to get permission to do anything here anyway - but nope, happily I was wrong. Whew, and bad on me for thinking it.)

Anyway, the driver picked me up this morning and jokingly asked if the appointment had been cancelled yet. "Not yet," I replied ominously, "but if I come out of the office five minutes after you drop me off, I may be too livid to speak. In which case, drive me anywhere in the city you want to go."

(The driver laughed. I happen to like this driver; he has an excellent sense of humor and we get on like a house on fire.)

Luckily, the appointment was on. The place I'm taking Charlie is a much larger operation than the place where Andrew went in Virginia. It's been in operation for 25 years and is well-enough established that everyone who knows we're going there has heard of it, or knows someone who went there. I like the people we've met so far, and they seem to know what they're doing - they evaluated Charlie with the same materials used to evaluate Andrew, and their English is accentless and probably better than mine. I sat in on today's session, because it was the first, but eventually (assuming Charlie's good with it) I won't, and there's a closed-circuit television so I can watch and hear what's going on, which is pretty cool.

So, two 45-minute sessions a week until the end of the month, at which point it's Ramadan and everything stops anyway. And two weeks after that, we're back in the States, where maybe we can find a therapist for the nearly two months we're in Yuma who can continue Charlie's therapy. 

I have it in my head that he won't need as much of it as Andrew has. Andrew had expressive and receptive delays, but Charlie only has expressive delay. He's got about six words, none of which are said correctly, and his main form of communication is pointing and yelling. (At his age, he should be doing two-word sentences, or at least one-word sentences.) The biggest problem right now is that he won't even try to copy what we're saying, and he's surrounded by soft-sack adults who are too willing to just give him what he wants. (I.E., me.) 

So, therapy. I am oh-for-two, people.


In related news, those fidget-spinner things have hit the LoL, and a few of Andrew's classmates brought them to class this week and ended up getting them banned for the entire first grade. Which of course brought them to everyone else's attention, including Andrew, so when school let out on Tuesday, the entire lot of them came racing out of the building, and every single one went straight up to their parents and begged for one. 

Here's the thing: they're toys, yes. But supposedly they're pretty good at helping kids with autism or ADHD focus - I admit I have no idea how - and that's part of the problem in their being banned from a lot of schools: it's not fair to ban something that some kids actually use to learn. I'm not sure comparing it to banning reading glasses is appropriate, but it's the closest analogy I can think of at the moment.

Anyway, Andrew's not autistic, and he doesn't have an official diagnosis of ADHD (though I wouldn't be surprised if he has some form of it), but I figured I'd ask his teacher anyway if she thought the spinners would help.

Answer: Not only "yes probably", but that she'd willingly lift the ban for him if it does.

(Which has also sparked a whole discussion about whether or not we should actually have Andrew tested for ADHD, but we're waiting on the Learning Support folks to chime in first.)

So Andrew and I got to have a discussion over dinner about how maybe he'd be allowed to have a spinner in class, but only if it helps him focus, and he's not allowed to show off to his classmates that he's allowed one when they aren't, because that is Rude. And if Mrs. A says, "Okay, Andrew, this spinner is distracting you more than it's helping you, it's time to put it away and it's going to be an after-school thing only now," he's not allowed to complain or ask for another chance, the spinner goes in his backpack and comes straight home. (Which he seemed to get pretty quickly. Whether or not he does it without complaining or asking for another chance is another thing entirely.) 

So between Charlie's aborted speech therapies and an upcoming trip to the mall to get Andrew this fabulous flicky spinner thingie, I've been off the compound more in the last two weeks than I have since January. (Trips to London notwithstanding.) It feels very strange. Plus I feel guilty for requesting drivers all the time... which is not exactly a good thing, since I sort of need drivers for the next two years. (Argh. Driving. Also one of the reasons I like today's driver, he's the only one who laughs when I crack jokes about my inability to drive here.)


Jun. 24th, 2016 10:10 pm
azriona: (cat in a box)
Okay, today was just weird.

Two things happened that woke me up at 5am, and I'm not entirely sure what order they occurred in. The first (though not necessarily in a chronological sense) was that Charlie woke up around 5am, but I was able to put him back down fairly quickly with a bottle.

The second, and much more far-reaching thing, was that I had what was either a severe headache, or a mild migraine. In retrospect, I'm not entirely sure which it was. My head hurt enough that I was shaking and shivering and only capable of lying very still under my covers, praying that Charlie would sleep for another hour, but I wasn't actually nauseus and light didn't bother me, plus I was with it enough to think miserably about how bored I was just lying there, and couldn't I at least read my Kindle or something?

So yeah. More than your average headache, less than a migraine, and one ibuprofen did very little to curb it. The children woke up roughly around the same time, and happily for me, were in excellent moods. (Andrew can sometimes be cranky and argumentative in the mornings, but he was in a truly fabulous mood this morning.) If the ibuprofen did anything, it at least let me handle the bare minimum of functionability, so I fed the children and myself, and Andrew's been totally happy with playing with his toys and not nagging me for television every ten seconds, so they did that for a while, and the morning toddled along until I could take a double-dose of ibuprofen, turn on a movie for Andrew and take Charlie up for a nap, followed by what was probably my first shower since Tuesday. By the time I was done with that, the headache had subsided enough that it was no longer painful, and in another hour, it was gone entirely.

So to say the day started out on a poor note would be about right. I didn't really think it would get much better.

Except... it did.

Because now, we have pack-out dates.

(No authorization for official passports, but authorization to move, which is FINE BY ME AND I SHALL NOT COMPLAIN.)

This came in the middle of the morning, when my headache was at least not entirely disabilitating. Or maybe adreneline curbed it better than the ibuprofen, I don't know. Anyway, I was able to arrange for packout for two-three days in early July, depending on how much stuff we have and how competant the movers are. Which is totally the skin of our teeth, because Andrew's signed up for a soccer camp in NoVa starting the day after we finish packing out, and I really did not want to lose that $130. The folks down here who are in charge of housing have been informed of the dates of our departure and seem not one whit concerned that it's later than they would have otherwise liked, so it's all good.

So that's a HUGE weight off my mind. Now all I'm worried about is that the packout survey guy will come and say, "OMG, you are only authorized 18,000 pounds of HHE/storage and you have 70,000 pounds of stuff, YOU ARE TOTALLY SCREWED." I mean, it probably won't happen, we've never hit the limit before, but this is how my brain automatically goes.

Still no word on the final travel orders that would allow us to get our official passports, and the moving company doesn't have the authorization for the consummable shipment we're allowed (and none of us know why, though everyone agrees we get it)... but this is a step in the right direction. I can deal. There is time for the details, the important thing is we have our pack-out dates, and they're actually really good dates. More time in our house, less time in a hotel, and we're in DC in time for Andrew's soccer camp.

And since we'll be here the extra time anyway... I signed him up for a bonus soccer camp next week at the same place where he takes gymnastics. It's twice the amount of time as the NoVa camp, for about half the cost. Gotta love living in the middle of nowhere. He's excited, but we'll see how he feels after three hours of playing soccer outside.

(Then again, he might be in it for the cleats. This kid loves new shoes, even when they're old shoes purchased at the consignment store. He also has a thing for wearing shirts with Puma and Nike and Air Jordan and other sports logos on them. I am totally raising a clothes horse, and I have no idea how I did that.)

In other news, Cleo had a run-iin with a fox last night. I think she won. I also know what the fox says. (It squeaks, if you can believe it.)

I finished Season 3 of Orange is the New Black. It was excellent, and now I really want to sit and chat with my mom for a few hours about what she thought of it.

Charlie is speaking Toddler. He has sounds he clearly thinks are words for things, and which even other people recognize as Toddler-speak for things, but which may or may not bear much resemblance to the actual word itself. He continues to be super adorable.

Andrew either is improving his reading by leaps and bounds, or he's got a eidetic memory. (Or whatever it's called when you hear something once, and remember it forever.) I'm not sure which. But he can read a word like "special" perfectly on the first try, and stumble over a popcorn word like "my". I have no idea. Anyway, he's got a Star Wars Spelling and Writing workbook and he loves it, which is great, except that he's gonna finish it soon and he for some reason didn't pick the Star Wars math workbook and I think that's gonna cause some heartache.

Anyway, I'm full and tired and it's just started to pour rain outside and Cleo is sure to be on the front porch crying to be let in, so I'm going to let her in and then go to bed, and hope I don't wake up with a headache again. Ugh.
azriona: (cat in a box)
Oh, my lord, this week.

1. Andrew's testosterone has kicked in. By which I mean, he has come to the conclusion that butts are funny. At least, I have to assume so because every other sentence that comes out of his mouth involves someone's butt, followed by peals of laughter. I don't get the joke, but this is probably because I am not a boy. Most of the other moms at the bus stop have boys either Andrew's age or younger, but there's one with a 4th and 6th grader, so I figured she might offer some consolation this morning.

Me: Okay, so, when do boys stop finding butts funny?
Her: I don't know, I'll tell you when it happens.
Me: Dammit.

2. Along the same lines, Charlie got his penis stuck in a book earlier this week. I have discovered that if I give him a board book while I change his diaper, he'll happily "read" it and not try to wiggle off the changing table. Unfortunately, he figured out how to turn the pages, and he sometimes has a tendancy to try to reach for his penis, and really unfortunately, he discovered why trying to do those two actions at the same time is not a very good idea. I don't think he hurt himself; mostly, he just looked confused why his book was attached to his penis. And then he wouldn't let me open the page again to free his penis, so it took a few minutes to get him unstuck.

3. Ralph the neighbor's cat continues his pursuit of Cleo's affections. The highlight this week is that he and Cleo got into a fight on the front porch, rolled down the front steps, and straight into Charlie. It was like a furry cat bowling ball, with Charlie as the pin. He went straight down, and by the time I got there (yelling at Ralph and brandishing a hockey stick), one cat or the other had unleashed a stream of pee.  And because Charlie has the worst luck this week, the cat in question's aim was horrible and it landed on him.

4. To make poor Charlie's life even worse, he had an eye appointment this morning, and his eyes were dilated. He was a trooper for the dilation (four drops per eye!), but had a super short nap this afternoon, and then when he woke up, the sun came out. Which was a problem, because (a) Charlie loves to be outside; (b) Charlie refuses to wear sunglasses because he is one; (c) sunlight hurts when your eyes are dilated; and (d) today was the neighborhood garage sale and I have a shit-ton of baby things to sell so I kind of needed to be outside in order to sell them. (More on this in a moment.)

Anyway, to wrap up the saga of Charlie's eyes: I haven't noticed Charlie's eyes drifting the last few months. At all. Ever. There's some tearing, but not more than what I'd expect (which you can read as: not more than what I get; maybe that's more than average, because the doc still thinks what he gets is more than normal).

However, the doctor says she can still get one of Charlie's eyes to drift, but it's not very much, and may continue to self-correct. She did say that he'll probably need glasses in a few years, but not within the next year, and we should probably get him an appointment the next time we're coming back to the States. (Easier said than done, if we wanted it with her, since we're not likely to come this far south again, but I didn't tell her that part.)

So endeth - or least shelveth - the saga of Charlie and his eyes. For now. We'll deal with an appointment the next time we know we're coming back to the States, probably next summer, and until then, I'm not really going to stress too much about it.

But Bill and I both agree that Charlie will be super cute with glasses. Provided we can convince him to keep them on. (Presumably, when he is three, this will not be such a problem.)

Back to the garage sale: so I'm selling of most of the baby gear. It's not like we need it, and most of this stuff, even if Charlie plays with it occassionally now, we'd have to pack it up at the end of the month, and then he wouldn't see it again until September or October, and there's a ton of stuff he'd basically have outgrown by then. So that stuff, I'm selling. I still have to figure out what to do with some of the other toys - there's plenty he plays with every single day that I really, really don't want to carry with us on the plane, and would be a pain to box up and ship when it's time to actually go. But I have about three weeks to figure that out, so we'll see.

Anyway, I ended up putting out Andrew's easel with a sign saying that I was inside with the baby, please browse and knock if anyone needed me. As it turned out, only two groups of people showed up today, and while I got rid of a couple of big items (the Jumperoo and the lawn mower), most of the rest of it is still here. I'm hoping there's a better turnout tomorrow. Whatever's left is going to either the kid's consignment store, or to Goodwill, and the more of it that goes, the easier that particular trip will be, because right now, I don't think I can fit everything in my car.

But to continue OMG THIS WEEK.

5. So this morning, I picked up my phone to check the traffic, and was promptly informed that my data was corrupted and I had to reboot the entire system, which would cause me to lose everything on it. Which means all the pictures and videos I had of the boys on the phone are gone. The good news is that I've already been spending the week transfering the photos to my computer; for some reason, the USB connector wasn't working, so I was emailing them to myself eight at a time, which takes flipping FOREVER, but I did manage to save about half of what was on there, so that's good. But now the phone's back at factory settings, and I had three years of stuff on there, and I don't remember half of what it was, and it looks just so bare and boring and impersonal.

6. I ordered a new laptop last Saturday morning. It still hasn't been shipped, despite being in stock. I don't know why. I'm getting super annoyed. Maybe this is the universe telling me I should have bought a Mac?

7. Andrew has a Fun Meet for gymnastics tomorrow. I'll take photos with the camera, not the phone. Charlie's going to stay home with a babysitter.

8. Writing is going. I have one full week of school for Andrew left, and then a bunch of half days, and then he's done with kindergarten. Which is super cool for him, and vaguely distressing for me, because there is not a chance in anything that I'm going to get any kind of writing done with him home all the time, especially not when I'm also supposed to be sorting the house for pack-out.  (And Bill is off training and won't be done until we're already packed out and up in DC again.) If I get the books I'm working on to an editable level, it's gonna be by the skin of my teeth.

Minor whinge about recent wankery. )

That said, I do have some really nice neighbors who have offered to help out with the kids once in a while, or take Andrew somewhere fun, which will definitely help. What I really want, of course, is for someone to take both of them, so that I can have a couple of hours to myself to either do the mountains of stuff that needs to be done here, or in a really perfect world, write for a little while. But that's harder to come by. Not because Charlie is adorable - but taking on a 1yo is a much bigger deal than taking on Andrew, who is perfectly happy with television and an occassional peanut butter sandwich.

Anyway, it's 10pm, and I'm exhausted, and I have to write up the notes from the story plotting I did in my head today, and then I'm going to bed. Where, if I am lucky, I will not dream about butts, or packing tape, or all of my electronic devices deciding to go on strike.
azriona: (cat in a box)

In related news, I don't think there's a single dry pair of shoes in this entire house. Charlie was wearing a size larger than he should have been today just because they were the only ones not sopping wet, and the poor kid was stumbling around for at least an hour until he got used to them. (Not that anyone else noticed; he basically looked vaguely more milk-drunk than usual, but still like a toddler learning to walk.)

Speaking of milk-drunk - adventures in lactose-intolerance. I think. )

In other moving-related news, Bill has headed off for his training, which will take him clear through July, so I've started moving full-speed ahead on trying to sort the house as much as I can. The first order of business was to clear off his desk, which was about six inches deep of papers and whatnot. I was able to clear a load of it - a lot of stuff that was tossed, a lot of DVDs and CDs that were put in their actual places, a lot of papers that were filed away. Two piles of things that I still have to figure out how to deal with, but I can see the top of the desk now! It's very cool. Next step: clearing off the top of his dresser. It's exciting here, I tell you.

Went to Costco with the kids. Purchased one mega-package of toilet paper, paper towels, and Kleenex each. Will probably do at least one more of the first two, and two or three of the Kleenex, until we actually pack out. (Local paper products in that part of the world are frequently terrible. Or elastic. Which is a whole different category of terrible.)

On the plus side, I think the kids' passports are here. The mailman refused to leave them in our (locked) mailbox, though, so I have to go to the post office to actually retrieve them, which won't happen until tomorrow. Unfortunately it's the post office that usually has a line out the door, and I'll have to take Charlie right before naptime, so that should be fun.

Last bit of moving-related stuff: So I've decided that I am defintely going to replace the current laptop before going. This one has been giving me bits of trouble recently, and I'm scared to death that it's going to just up and stop working once we're over there, and I won't have any way of getting a new one. And as usual, every time it's time for me to get a new computer, I end up debating whether or not I want to make the switch over to a Mac. (Specifically, a MacBook Air.) I wish there was a decent computer store down here - oh, how I'm missing MicroCenter right now - but sadly, I am stuck with Best Buy. (Well, there's an Apple-like store that I'm sure would be happy to sell me a MacBook, but I wouldn't be able to compare with a PC there.)

Bill says, "Get the computer that makes you happy." Which is nice to hear, yes, but completely unhelpful in this situation.

Anyway, that about covers it. Andrew is in school for another three weeks, before he gets a series of half days and then no school at all. And then we theoretically are packing out. *meep*

(I'm trying not to think about it too hard, there's just too much to do before then.)
azriona: (cat in a box)
Bedtime was an utter mess here - but the day itself was actually really good. Charlie ended up having two killer naps - 2-1/2 hours this morning, and another hour-long nap in the car after we ran lunchtime errands. Not exactly something he's done in a while - but he's had something of a cold the last couple of days, and a (small) fever on Sunday. Plus he woke up at 5am this morning in a terrible mood and couldn't get back down, and fussed and cried for a while.

Which no doubt messed up bedtime, because Andrew heard the crying and woke up early, and he's been getting bed late for the last week solid, and he was so overtired that he was already bursting into tears over silly things before dinner.

I tell you, parenthood is fun, and don't let anyone ever tell you different.

In other news:

1. Andrew and I went to Busch Gardens on Sunday, and he did his first real roller coaster. (Loch Ness Monster.) It was spitting rain when we got there - not heavy by any stretch, but cold and wet. I think that worked to our advantage (also the fact that it was Easter Sunday), because the park was fairly empty. We never waited longer than about 10 minutes for anything - and the longest we waited was that first ride on the roller coaster, which was also the first thing we did when we got there. I could tell Andrew was a bit nervous because he would not let go of my hand for anything, but he said he was okay and he wanted to go and I reminded him that it was okay to change his mind (at least until we got into the car) and if he got scared, to close his eyes. (And he knew what was coming - that we'd go upside-down and into a tunnel for about half a minute, so there were no surprises.) He did great. I could hear him yelling and afterwards he said he liked it, and then later - several hours later, sure - he said he wanted to go again, and this time, he wanted to be in the front car. Lucky for us, the wait was miniscule - we could have gone right away if we'd wanted any other car, and as it was, we only waited for two people ahead of us. And he loved it. I might have sprung for the official picture if he hadn't looked like he was getting whiplash in it.

I'm pretty sure he didn't get whiplash. And we went on the kiddie roller coaster about five times, and a few other things, and he really, really didn't want to leave, but it was near dinner and the fog was rolling in big time, so it was time to go home. And we have passes so we'll go again before we leave, anyway.

Front car, though. I have taught this kid well.

2. Charlie kind of sort of not really wants to walk. He's very good at walking while holding only one of my hands, and he's excellent at cruising around the furniture. He'll stand on his own, unsupported, for about a minute, and he'll even bob up and down without holding onto anything.

But take anything more than a single step when he doesn't have a set of parental arms to fall into? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA no.

He's about half a pound shy of being forward-facing in his carseat. I went ahead and switched his infant carrier to the convertible carseat, so he can get used to it (plus, I think he's a bit too big for the infant carrier to really be comfortable anymore). And I think he really wants to sit forward-facing because Andrew sits forward-facing, and anything Andrew does is preferable. (As is anything Momma eats, until I give him a piece, at which point he takes a bite, makes a face, and then demands that other thing Momma is eating, which is clearly better.)

3. AMAZON PAID ME YESTERDAY. Which is totally exciting, and elicited the following conversation:

Me: Amazon paid me!
Bill: That's great! What are you going to do with it?
Me: ...Go to Disneyland?
Andrew: No, Momma! Don't go to Disneyland! Go to CHICAGO.

I have no idea why he is still obsessed with Chicago, particularly to the point of prefering it over Disneyland. At any rate, there's not enough to actually pay for a trip to Disneyland - or Chicago, for that matter - so it's all moot.

There is, however, enough that I think I will buy myself a nice purse, because my current one is almost older than Andrew and is literally falling to pieces. I have a terrible time justifying spending more than about $30 on a purse, though, so this is going to be a serious test of will.

In the meantime, I've set a date for the next book (April 26), and set up a Goodreads page for it.  It seems both far away, and way too soon, but I'm still trying to figure out a workable timeline for this sort of thing - I can't find anything online to recommend timelines for when things should happen that don't involve throwing yourself a launch party, and I am not throwing myself a launch party, because that just seems silly.

4. Next week is Andrew's spring break, so on Saturday afternoon, I am packing up both kids and leaping headfirst into insanity. Insanity defined as driving an hour to the nearest airport, then taking three seperate flights until we get to Arizona and my mom (and dad) on the other end. I have no idea what I was thinking when we made these plans in December. Maybe I was sleep deprived. Anyway, my mother has apparently purchased Charlie an entire wardrobe (20 shirts, 6 pairs of paints, 4 pairs of shorts, and a swimsuit - kid's on his own for pajamas, though) and Andrew has an entire itenerary of things he wants to do while we're there, which is pretty impressive since he hasn't been to Yuma in three years and he still remembers it.

Happily for me, Item 1 on Andrew's list is my favorite ever Mexican restaurant, so I'm going to try to finangle eating there every day.  Except for the first day, which as it turns out is the last day of the county fair, which I haven't been to since high school.  I'm hoping it's more or less the same as I remember, because Andrew is going to love it.  Or some of it, anyway - Sunday is the day they auction off the 4-H and FFA animals, so I'm hoping we get there before most of them have been taken to their final reward.

We'll be there for a week... and then we get to board another set of three planes and come back.

It'll be fine. It'll be fine! It'll be totally fine.

(If I keep saying that, it will come true.)

And that is that for the night. I also woke up at 5am, and unlike Charlie, I didn't take two naps today. (I did have coffee this morning, though.)  I'm going to bed, and maybe when I wake up in the morning, it will be Sunday and I'll be in Arizona already.

(Or at least it'll be morning, and Charlie will have slept through the night. That'd be good, too.)
azriona: (cat in a box)

So... you know how they say you take a bunch of photos of your first kid, and their personal photo album is literally overflowing... and then you get to the second, and it's maybe got two pages?

Yeah.  I sort of fell into that trap, and I kind of knew it, but I didn't realize how bad it was until just now.  See, when I save photos of the boys to post online, I have a system - their first name, and then the number of the photo, so it's all chronological.  (These are only the good photos that I want to share, btw.  And for every good photo you see, figure there's at least 10-20 that you don't.  Kids are notoriously difficult to photograph.  They just keep moving.)

By the time Andrew was one, I had... oh, at least 200 of shareable photos.

Charle turns 11 months in three days.  I have twenty-two photos of him worth sharing.

(And before you say, "Oh, but you have photos of both brothers together!"  Yes.  I do. Seventeen of them.  That argument does not help.)

Imagine me hanging my head in shame.

Of course, a large part of this isn't because I wasn't taking the photos - it's that I wasn't transfering them to the computer and going through them and cleaning them up a bit before posting them online.  Which is actually a huge part of the deal, and also the most time-consuming.  It takes all of a second to take a photo.  It takes a bit longer to go through them and select the ones I like and then do whatever needs doing to make them pretty.  (I don't tend to do a lot of manipulation, but I do lighten them, but there's usually something.)

Anyway.  I did go through them today - and here are three from the last month that I kind of like.  Of course, one of them is just of Charlie, taken this morning, and the other two are of both boys, but hey.  Pictures of adorable children are still pictures of adorable children.

Pictures! Of Adorable Children Being Adorable! )
azriona: (cat in a box)

Okay, next to the snow.  He was very patient while Bill and I shoveled the driveway, though. I could swear I had baby snow boots, but I can't find them anyway, and I think I might have lent them to a family last year who never gave them back and then moved to Atlanta.  Where they are probably not going to need them.  *sigh*

There was not an obsene amount of snow, but there was enough that school was cancelled today (Monday).  I haven't left the house since... Wednesday last week, I think, so I don't have a clue what the roads are like out there, though Bill had a doctor's appointment today so I'm sure he'll fill me in.  I'm hoping school starts up again tomorrow, because Andrew is bored stiff, and I think Charlie's getting stir-crazy.

Of course, I woke up this morning feelng like death warmed over, and I've had a cough the last couple of days.  Otherwise okay; no fever, no runny nose, no sore throat.  Just achey muscles and a cough.

In other news... The Country Omega comes out tomorrow!  I think I will probably do a fairly obnoxious blitz on Tumblr & Twitter tomorrow, or maybe starting tonight, so feel free to ignore me if you like.  And there's already two reviews/ratings for it on Goodreads, which is kind of exciting.

And I can hear Andrew stomping around somewhere (Charlie is napping) so I should probably check in on him and see how he is.  He complained about a headache this morning, but when I offered Tylenol, refused.  And he doesn't seem sick otherwise, just bored.

(I know, bored, with a metric ton of snow outside.  But then, it's also cold, and he refuses to wear a hat or gloves no matter what I do.)
azriona: (Mr Morton)
I am not entirely sure that I've got the hang of Twitter yet.  (This is me, if you would like to follow.)  I think this is mostly because I'm still trying to figure out how to use it.  I'm not doing much that is fannish with it - though most of the people I follow are from fandom.  I'm trying not to retweet everything under the sun, and I'm trying to tweet things that are at least halfway interesting or funny or whatever.  I've been reading a  lot of articles about how to use Twitter, though, and mostly, they are either completely unhelpful or contradictory.  I think my favorite advice to date has been to follow 100 people, and then once they're following you, wait a couple of weeks, drop them, and then follow another 100 people.  Lather, rinse, repeat, until you have scads of followers.  This, of course, was immediately followed by the advice to get a metrics algorithm do-hickey that allows you to see who unfollows you so you can unfollow them right away. I'm not sure how to take these pieces of advice together; either one seperately strikes me as the hallmark of a power-hungry asshole.

Part of the problem is that I keep coming up with "tweets" that end up being too long.  Such as my inability to feel comfortable with the platform just yet.  (I do have an idea for a tweet that has probably been done a thousand times before, where I take a picture of a flock of birds sitting outside my window, and caption it: "Offering advice? Or auditioning me for a Hitchcock film?"  Except  no birds have come by to fill my lawn with song.  Probably because it's January and they are not overly concerned with my social media presence.

I am feeling fairly doomy and gloomy today.  I don't think it's connected to waking up at 3am and not being able to get back to sleep. The first two hours were Charlie, who cut his second tooth at some point this morning, and was very unhappy about it.  (I don't blame him. I just wish he'd slept through it.  Then again, I suspect he wishes the same.)  But then my brain starting percolating about the next part of the book and... well, that was kind of that.  I gave up around 5:30 and went downstairs to write, and didn't come up for air until Andrew wandered down at 7:15.  Good thing, too, I barely got him out to the bus on time; if ensuring he was awake had been up to me he might not have made it at all.

That said... I wrote 1600 words before Andrew came downstairs, and I've since written 1000 more during Charlie's nap, and the first 1600 are way better.  I miss sleeping, but I miss writing at 5am, too.

I think the doom-and-gloom is in part because I have the feeling I've been reading too much about how to properly self-publish, and by most of the accounts, I am Doing It Wrong.  I'm not doing any book tours, I was way late getting my ARCs out the door, I have created about zero percentage buzz.  It's entirely possible that the six people who were going to buy my book now have free copies in exchange for reviews. D'oh.

That said... I have to remember that my goal in self-publishing is not necessarily the same as the goals for other people who self-publish.  The online guides are all written for people who want to sell thousands of books and make oodles of money.  I'm not saying I wouldn't like those things - let's be real, who wouldn't? - but if I don't? It's okay.  I want as many people who would enjoy these books to be able to find them, download them, read them... and enjoy them.  And using Amazon's self-publishing is the best way of doing that, or at least I think it is for these particular stories.  (i.e., the Omegaverse. Because it doesn't really exist on any other platform in an original fiction form; I've checked.)

And if I earn a little extra money along the way... well.  Yay.  I can buy Charlie a new box of diapers.

So... eyes on the prize, which is not a payout from Amazon, but those six very happy people who are hopefully not the same as the folks with the ARCs.  Well... maybe a few more so I can break even.  I'm still running under $200 total costs for this venture.  That's about 100 books, not counting whatever Amazon keeps in taxes (assuming they even do and oh, dear, this is going to totally screw with the taxes next year, isn't it?). CAN I SELL 100 BOOKS?

azriona: (cat in a box)
1. Okay, I'm going to link from various social medias to other various social medias.  That is - in my profile for LJ, AO3, and Tumblr, you'll find links to P.P.'s site.  I will probably link back from P.P. to AO3 at some point, but at the moment I'm still trying to decide how much presence that personna is going to have online.  (Mostly, this boils down to whether or not I get P.P. a Tumblr or a Twitter or a FB page.  Opinions welcome.)

2. Definitely getting the copyright.  If I'm reading the website correctly, if I wait until the book is actually published, I'm better off to the tune of $105.  I like this tune.  I'm also not overly stressed about someone swooping in and saying "BUT I AM THE REAL P.P."  It's more for peace of mind than anything else.  And anyway - the book comes out in about two weeks, and the current wait time for the copyright office is 8 months, so I think waiting isn't going to make much of a difference in the long run.

3. Bill got me the official Sherlock calendar for Christmas.  It's lovely. Right now, it kind of looks like Benedict Cumberbatch is greatly annoyed by the state of my desk. Except I just realized that instead of the weeks being listed Sunday to Saturday, they're listed Monday to Sunday.  Which is fine, but is going to probably confuse me for a little while when I look at it and try to plan things.

But the big news is:

4. Charlie has a tooth!!!!!
It's the lower left-hand side tooth, and it just started peeking out this afternoon.  I was looking at it, and it looked kind of ridgy, and I felt it with my fingernail, and it is DEFINITELY A TOOTH.  Charlie has been in a reasonably good mood for most of the day, except that he only napped this morning because sleep is for wimps.
azriona: (cat in a box)
I blocked myself from getting onto Tumblr until tomorrow morning, mostly because I could feel myself being dragged back into the pro/anti-Mary fight all over again, and since that particular battle nearly pushed me into leaving the fandom two years ago, I'm pretty wary about going back there.

Also, I spent a good chunk of last night's writing time on it already, and I'd really rather not procrastinate any longer from working on the stories that need writing.

Which is why I'm writing an LJ entry instead.

Writing Things )

The Children )

Anyway, that's all I can think of, and I'm exhausted, and I'm going to bed where I will curl up with my current book and read until I fall asleep or when Charlie remembers that he doens't like to sleep through the night.  Usually these things occur simoultaneously.  Which might be why I'm exhausted.

p.s. oh, yes, the Sherlock special was awesome and I loved it tons and it might be my favorite of ALL the episodes, I haven't decided.  and someday, when Charlie is in kindergarten, I will write a review of it.  
azriona: (cat in a box)
My dad commented that every photo he's seen of Charlie shows Charlie smiling widely.  He wanted to know if Charlie was ever sad.  I attempted to take video proof.  (I failed.)

Andrew's Christmas gymnastics routine.  Originally, Coach Marq had choreographed this routine for his Girls' Class, which is why there is the super cute pose at the end.  (I think the pose was my favorite part, honestly.)

azriona: (cat in a box)
Writing went more or less out the window yesterday.  Bill has a work thing that we have to host on Monday - which means there are actual people coming over Monday night, which means the house has to be in a state where I'm willing to let people see it.  Which is a lot trickier than it sounds when 4/5ths of the creatures who live here spend their days not picking up after themselves.

(I have hope for Andrew and eventually for Charlie, but I've given up on the other two.)

On the plus side, though, Bill took the morning off work yesterday and Charlie took the most rock-star well-timed nap in baby history and slept for three hours.  I mean, that came at the cost of him also waking up at 5am which meant he went down for said nap at 8, but I used the early wake-up time to start picking things up, so when he did actually go down, I was ready to dive in and start cleaning.  I managed to sweep and mop not only the entire first floor, but also all three bathrooms.  I vacuumed the downstairs rugs and the staircase too (which is pretty tricky) and I cleaned two of the bathrooms entirely, went through Andrew's abysmal shelf of puzzles and games and cleared out a bunch he never uses, and straightened up the dining room (a bit, it still needs work).

I have to say, the house is looking awfully spiffy now.  I sat on the couch and admired it for a little bit while I fed Charlie after he woke up.  It's a pain to mop and sweep and everything that goes along with (because I am WAY picky and I do things like move furniture and pick up rugs and whatnot), but oh, I like how it looks and smells and feels when I'm done.  I never get the same satisfaction from sweeping or mopping AROUND things, I have to go under them too.

(That said, I didn't go under the couch.  I ran out of time.  And I'm pretty sure it's a dust-bunny heaven under there.)

So unless someone drops something particularly messy in the next few days, all I'll have to do on Monday in terms of cleaning is sweep and maybe ensure that Andrew hasn't peed on the downstairs toilet, and that's it.  There's still some clutter that needs to leave visible areas, but I figure I can toss it all the day of into my office space and shut the door and no one will be the wiser.  Bill still needs to put away the rest of the Halloween stuff (decorating is largely his domain, not mine, which is totally fine by me becuase if it were up to me, I'd never take anything down ever, we'd totally be that house with the Christmas lights up year-round), but he's got most of the weekend.  I feel mostly ready for company.

(Plus, I went and had some fun in the frozen aisle at Trader Joe's, because I am not cooking for this thing and this is my excuse to try all the fun things Trader Joe's offers for snicky snacks, since it's not going to be a large gathering, so I can splurge a little bit on the good stuff.)

It occurred to me, enjoying my clean house yesterday, that I ought to make a habit of trying to clean like that before every Nano.  That there's probably some connection with having a clean space and being majorly productive.  Which would have been true... except I don't feel majorly productive at the moment.  I kind of feel like I would like to do anything but write the next part of this story, as I've hit the stage where all of it is boring and stupid and inconsequential and I firmly believe that everyone is going to hate it and I don't even know why I'm writing the damn thing.  You know, that stage.  Which will pass, I know, I just have to work through it.

Doesn't help that Andrew's birthday party is Sunday, and I have to wrap his presents and prep the guest gift bags and somewhere in there, bake a cake.  And in the meantime, Andrew has decided that he wants to make an apple pie, and I want to encourage his desire to bake, even when I'm pretty sure he's going to be all enthusiastic and end up watching me for two seconds before peeling off and demanding to watch PBS Kids instead.  *sigh*

(I wonder if I can convince him to have Birthday Pie instead of Birthday Cake?  Probably not, he's six; he firmly believes that it's not a birthday without cake, and he's not likely to outgrow that for another decade at least.)


I started Charlie on chicken earlier this week - a puree that Andrew loved, where you basically cook a chicken stew with carrots and sweet potatoes, and then mash it all together, and it smells absolutely delicious and tastes pretty good, and Charlie hates it.  I think possibly it doesn't taste enough like mango, which I could feed him all day, every day, and he'd be happy as a clam.  Not exactly nutritionally balanced, but happy.

Really, he just wants to eat big people food.  Not mush.  Which is a problem, because he doesn't have teeth.

Dear Charlie's Teeth,


Charlie's Momma

Dear Charlie's Taste Buds,


Charlie's Momma


Officially, 22,216 words, but I haven't entered the 900 or so I added this morning, so it's a bit more than that.  Still ahead of the curve, but not as much as I'd like.
azriona: (cat in a box)
I am currently participating in that time-honored tradition of stealing my children's Halloween candy.  Of course, in this instance, only Andrew received candy, because I only took Charlie to a few houses to show him off, and then we went back home to hand out the rest of the cookies.

(There are five bags left.  I'm feeling good about that.)

Of course, we also ended up with a neighbor's stash, because she brought over her bucket halfway through the night since she had to take her daughter to a party across town, and was for some reason disinclined to leave it on her porch step for the kids to take piece by piece.  So what ended up happening was that we handed out my cookies, but kept raiding the neighbor's stash for ourselves.  (That's not the royal "we", either - we had friends over, so I had company for most of the evening, which was awesome.)  Andrew and I returned her bucket this afternoon.

Neighbor: So how much did you end up eating yourselves?
Me: I can reliably attest that you no longer have Milky Ways in that bucket.

(Milky Ways and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups.  And York Peppermint Patties, though those are kind of hard to come by.  Used to be I was a sucker for Butterfingers and 3 Musketeers and Whoppers.  Not sure what that says about my taste buds either then or now.)

(No one hands out candy corn anymore.  Sad.)

I'm wondering now how much of my candy my parents stole.  I don't remember noticing that the stash was depleted as November wore on, but maybe they were just sneakier about it.


In other news, today's the first day of DST (or the first day off, I can never remember which way is which, and don't bother telling me because honestly, it doesn't really matter all that much and I'll never remember).  Both kids were awake by 5:45am.  Charlie woke up just before 5am, and then Andrew woke up (but I was able to coax him back to bed for another 25 minutes or so).  Charlie took his regular morning nap - just accelerated by two hours - but only two additional 30-minute cat-naps, so he was an absolute joy for most of the afternoon.  (Sarcasm, btw.)

And then he defied everything and was all adorable and smiley at bedtime, mostly because Andrew was playing with him.  Andrew decided to read him a bedtime book, and then Andrew decided they were going to pretend to drive a dolphin rescue truck (he's been watching Dolphin Tale) and they were also playing construction trucks at one point.  (Charlie was nominally the bulldozer.  Well, he was chewing the bulldozer, I think that counts.)  It kind of killed me to break up the fun and put Charlie to bed, but he'd been awake for four hours straight by then, and showing sleep signs for twenty minutes, and I was scared to put it off any longer for fear that he'd have a terrible night.

(He's had a lot of terrible nights lately.  I don't know what to do about it anymore.  And I'm sure that in comparison, they're not that bad, but at 2am when he's been awake for an hour and a half and screaming for most of it because you just can't hold him anymore because you're afraid you're going to fall asleep on your feet and drop him.... yeah.  It seems bad enough to me.)

(I mean... how the hell do you convince an attachment baby that no, really, they actually ca put themselves to sleep without Momma standing right over them?  Please?  I love you and will totally give you anything else your baby heart desires if I can just have four hours uninterrupted sleep?)

Andrew was awake all day - no car nap, courtesy of his iPad - and conked out a bit early for him, but exactly when I want him to conk out, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed on that one.

On the whole though... I hope the person who invented DST died a slow and painful death.  And there was a very long stretch this afternoon where if Donald Trump had shown up on my doorstep and promised to take the US off DST altogether, he would have had my vote.

Election Day is Tuesday; there's always Democratic and Republican tables outside the polling place, handing out sample ballots.  I'm tempted to ask them which candidates will vote to kill DST, and then vote accordingly.  I'm pretty sure that only parents of preschoolers actually care about this issue, though.  (And owners of cows, possibly.)


In other news, Nano started today.  My word count is zero.  It is unlikely to change tonight, because it's 9pm and I've been awake since 5am and I was up for several hours in the middle of the night to boot, and I'm expecting the same tonight.  I plan to pop into a couple of chat rooms in a moment to announce my word count and let other people feel superior about theirs.  (I'm very altruistic like that.)
azriona: (cat in a box)
I feel like it's been a thousand and one years since I've made an actual entry here - not entirely true, just feels that way.  Mostly I keep thinking of things that I want to put here, and then I forget every single one of them once I'm actually sitting at the computer.  I used to keep a notebook so I could jot reminders to myself about what I needed to do online - I need to ressurect that, because honestly, my memory is shot.  I blame Charlie.

Halloween and Writing )

There are other things, but I honestly cannot think of a single one of them.  Mostly, I'm just tired.  Charlie was going through a spell for a few weeks where he was back to waking up three times a night, and now he seems to be in a phase where he wakes up at 6:30 in the morning ready to go.  Which, if he wasn't waking up three times a night, would be fine.  But when he's waking up that often, and I wake up and stay up regardless of who actually goes to deal with him... yeah.  6:30 is way too effing early.  I have been existing on coffee much more than I normally do --- and I don't think my stomach appreciates it much.

Plus... I like to write in the morning, before everyone wakes up, but I can't do that if I'm sleeping hard until Charlie wakes up before the sun rises and does not understand the concept of GOING BACK TO SLEEP.

(And even when he does... I'm often so tired that I just go back to sleep, too.)

I know it's temporary, and I know I had a massive slow-down in writing during Andrew's first year, too.  I wrote one major thing when Andrew was small (Master in a Game, still one of my favorite DW stories), and I've now written one major thing since Charlie came home (Original Omegaverse, part one), so really, I'm actually doing pretty good and I have good reason to be proud of myself.

But still.  *sigh*

Part of the disrupted sleep I think is because Charlie stopped wanting to have solids for a bit - I think he decided that he was done with purees, and he wanted to eat the real stuff.  Like, he'd be tracking the food on our forks to our mouths, and reaching and grabbing for my toast in the mornings.  I caved and I've actually let him gnaw on some things - pizza crusts and bits of toast and whatnot, and I keep a very close eye when he's got them.  Tonight, I cut up one of the sweet potato gnocci and let him have that, and we think he actually got some in his mouth and was totally happy with life.  But the truth is, he has no teeth, and no sign of said teeth, so the kid's kind of stuck with purees and majorly soft things for a while yet.

Anyway, I'm trying to get back on the solid food kick, and that seems to be helping with the waking up at night.  Also, he needs to start meats soon, and I want to give him chicken mixed with stuff, but so far, he's not cleared on a lot of stuff yet, allergy-wise.  (Though mostly I have thrown my hands in the air and said, I DON'T CARE, GO AHEAD AND LET'S JUST WATCH HIM FOR A WHILE.  I am a terrible role model, no one feed their children like I'm feeding Charlie.) Tomorrow is carrots.  I cooked them tonight and mashed them up with a bit of mango to make them extra sweet, and they taste sooooooo good, guys.  I might have to make somethig similar for us one night.  Well, not mashed, I mean.  After carrots, peas.  We've already determined he's not a fan of green beans.  After that, I can start playing with the fun combinations of things, so it'll get easier (and tastier).

In the meantime, though.  Still tired, so I'm going to bed.  Yell at me, and I'll try to post pictures of the boys, because they are cute, and Andrew is fabulous and doing SO SUPER WELL in kindergarten, and we had his IEP update last week and I want to talk about that, and Charlie has a dimple in the middle of his chin which is very important too.
azriona: (cat in a box)

He had his retaliation by spitting up on me continuously for the next 45 minutes.  Point taken, kid.  
azriona: (cat in a box)
I was having technology fail all yesterday, more or less from when I woke up and my LJ post kept getting deleted as I worked on it, to the end of the day when (briefly) I couldn’t get my very tired phone to recharge.  Heck, I walked into a room halfway through the day and someone mentioned to me how they were having trouble getting their digital camera to work properly – clearly, I was exuding some kind of anti-technology aura, which to be fair I warned the camera owner about, but I don’t think she believed me.

Anyway, I’m going with the assumption that the anti-technology vibes were of the same species as the 24-hour flu, and this time I’m writing the LJ entry in Word so even if LJ deletes it, I can just try again, no harm no foul.

(Lesson to LJ newbies: never write important or long posts in LJ.  LJ eats those for breakfast.  Write them in another program instead, and then copy-paste them over.  You will thank for me this someday, trust me.)

Yesterday deleted posts were, of course, masterpieces of writing, in which I waxed poetic about the joys of Trader Joe’s coffee ‘n cocoa ground coffee (which I figured out how to brew sans coffeemaker, because I am a dolt who does not pay close enough attention to packaging and I’m apparently turning into a coffee addict, or more specifically, a mocha addict), my intense hatred of ironing (there was half a paragraph that focused on this hatred of ironing, but it was way funnier than it sounds here), my current bout of insomnia, and how it is not exactly dovetailing with Charlie’s sudden fondness for only waking up twice a night.  Insomnia is annoying, but it’s worse when the baby is sleeping and hasn’t been, because now I’m only too aware that I could be sleeping, and I am not.

On the other hand, I’ve been productive while I haven’t been sleeping.  Apart from making Charlie’s latest batch of food (he’s currently trying out butternut squash, and I’m not entirely sure he likes it much), and tackling the endless piles of laundry because when you live with three boys, there is always laundry, omg, I’ve managed to finish editing the Original Omegaverse, which now sits at 80,200 words, give or take a few.  I’ve also played with the cover design, found a few people who can do a Spanish-check for me, and become totally sucked into a webcomic called Check Please!, which has pie.  And hockey, but I’m mostly there for the pie, and because the characters are adorable.

But really, what was my downfall with the attempt to post yesterday was that I was trying to do a massive photo dump of the boys, because they are cute and I have cute pictures and I haven’t done a massive photo dump in a while.  With good reason and all – it’s amazing how busy you can get when the baby doesn’t nap – but still.
Photo Dump of Cuteness )

And hey, look at that, a finely-crafted LJ post that LJ has so far decided not to eat.  Maybe it's feeling a bit full today.  Who knows?  Anyway, I'm going to click on that post button before it starts feeling peckish.
azriona: (cat in a box)
Argh.  For some reason, my computer didn't go into sleep mode when I closed it last night (I rarely power it down), so the Tumblr window stayed open all night, and now my Stay Focused app won't let me go in because it thinks I've exceeded my daily time limit.  And I can't override for the same reason.  *sigh*  I wasn't going to waste time there, I just wanted to see what notes I'd gathered and respond to an ask, and actually post that I'd uploaded the latest chapter of Science is Stupid (which I didn't get a chance to do on the day), and to make a happy "TOMORROW IS MEDIEVAL OMEGAVERSE DAY" post, but APPARENTLY NOT.

All About Charlie )
Anyway, enough blathering, I need to get a bit of editing done before he wakes up.  Or scrub the bathroom.  Decisions, decisions.
azriona: (cat in a box)
Andrew's first day of kindergarten was a smashing success - from getting on the bus with no hesitation whatsoever, to being the first person off the bus with a smile on his face.  (Though that might have been because another parent greeted the bus with a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.)  He wasn't particularly tired - he was actually fairly full of energy, and after a brief spell of couch potato (because he always needs to decompress after preschool, and I'm sure he needed it more today), he was full of energy and excitement.  From the minute he was off the bus, he was anxious to tell me about the day, too - "Mom, I have to tell you!"  And he did, too, which was awesome.  It helped that his teacher sent home a monthly calendar giving us an idea of what they did that day, and there was even a prompt for questions in his folder (based on the book they read in class), but he told me other things too - like he sits at Table 2, with Nicholas, and he ate in the cafeteria and bought chocolate milk, and it was loud and some kids got to sit on the stage, and someone apparently dropped their water bottle, and he sat next to Sydney on the ride home.  And they learned about owls.  Not that he could tell me anything about owls, but they LEARNED about them.

It was apparently an eventful day.  And he loved taking the bus.  So much so that I reminded him that I have to pick him up tomorrow so he can go to speech, and he nearly burst into tears.

(Although to be fair, that was at the end of the day while he was in his bath, and he was already so tired that I was able to skip entire pages of the book I was reading him and he didn't notice.)

There is a picture of him that I took this afternoon, but I haven't transfered it yet.  Basically, imagine Andrew sitting at the kitchen table, wearing this morning's clothes and a paper hat that says, "I ♥ Kindergarten!", and his mouth full of coconut chocolate chip scone.  (Because after two chocolate chip cookies at the bus stop, he bicycled home and there was enough time before Charlie and I caught up to him for him to snag a scone from the kitchen.  Let's just say his energy this evening might not have been entirely due to an excellent day at school.)

Anyway, he's asleep now - conked right out - and I think today was about as good as anyone could ever possibly want.

Friday, though.  I'm a bit worried about Friday.


In the meantime... Charlie had his six month appointment today.  Seeing as today is his six-month-birthday.  He is 16 pounds 4 ounces, 26-1/4 inches long, and the nurse confirms that he is totally adorable, but we knew that part already.  He had another round of immunizations - one shot in each leg, and stopped crying in fairly short order, which may or may not be due in part to the bottle I stuck in his mouth.  I say "may not" because he didn't actually drink that much, and then when he was done, he started flirting with the nurse who'd just given him the shots, so either he has a super short attention span, or he just isn't one to hold a grudge.

So it was a big day all around.  I even got to SHOWER.  It was awesome.

Other Charlie-news is mostly all sleep related.  He hasn't been sleeping super well at night - Saturday night he woke up every two hours, like clockwork.  I have a theory why (and I'll get to that), but I don't think it was teething related, because I gave him Tylenol somewhere around midnight (when he'd woken twice, or three times, I have totally lost count) and it didn't really help.  And then on Sunday night, he woke up three times, and last night, he woke up a few times as well.

My theory is that it's the sleep sack.  He's in this phase where he likes to kick.  And kick.  And kick.  And I think he's kicking at the sleep sack, and it's popping the zipper up into his face, and that wakes him up.  I think this because every time I go in to his room, the entire sack has shimmied up and is right up under his chin, and there's a great big bulge of zipper on his chest.  (You know, how zippers sort of bulge?  It's not dangerous for him - but you can see how it would wake someone up if it were to hit your nose.)

So tonight, he is sans sleep sack.  I put him in feet pajamas, and we'll see how it goes.  So far... well, he's asleep.  It took a bit of doing, because it's been forever since I've put anything on his feet, including socks, and he kept rubbing his feet together as I was giving him his bedtime bottle.  I'm not sure if it was the sensation, the sound, or just the idea that he couldn't rub his toes together.

What a pity that in twenty years, I can't turn to him and say, "CHARLIE, WHAT THE HELL?"  And actually get an answer.  "OMG MOM, THERE WAS THIS CRICKET."

(Incidentally, since my parents read this:  Mom, Dad, the real reason I kept asking you to turn on the swamp cooler when I was eight and trying to go to sleep was because I hated the sound of the crickets outside my bedroom window, and the swamp cooler was so loud that it drowned them out.  I wasn't actually hot or anything.  Thank you for always turning it on when I asked.)
azriona: (cat in a box)
Last week, I ordered prettyvk's really awesome fandom blocks for Charlie (her Etsy store is here; the blocks themselves are here), and they arrived yesterday.  He promptly gave his approval by attempting to eat them.  I promptly took out the camera at which point he took the blocks out of his mouth because this child is already onto me about blackmail photos.  Clever kid.

Photos! )

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