My Ass is Getting Kicked by Someone Whose Foot Doesn't Reach That High

So you know how I said how much I missed the Little Miss and was so very happy to have her home?

That really hasn't changed so much, except that I'm ready for her to go back to Grandma's now.

It's the sleeping, you see. She doesn't do it. And I miss it, oh how I miss the sweet uninterrupted nights of scream-less slumber that I knew, lo, these many days ago.

We have been doing battle every night over this sleep thing. That's seven in a row, folks. I want her to sleep, and she doesn't feel the need. I want her to sleep in her bed, she wants to sleep in mine, with me, right next to me with her feet up my nose. I want her to go to sleep when I put her to bed. She feels I should rock her, or at least sit in her rocker, for the hour plus that she languorously takes to drift off. 2-3 times Every Single Night.

I. Am. So. Sick. Of. This.

We have both been wearily rolling out of bed in the morning like boxers in the fourth or fifth round - bleary-eyed, wearing down, but still willing to dodge a few more punches. She's got an unfair advantage in the form of 2 1/2 hour naps every afternoon, while I have to make do with whatever caffeine I can suck down and the toothpicks that prop open my eyelids.

In spite of this, I've been making slight progress with a newish tactic, which I call Shutting the Door and Ignoring What Happens Within. The crying has decreased from 40 minutes the first night, to 30 minuets the next, and last night at 2:30 it was only 7 minutes. Granted, I think she's been sleeping in a crumpled heap on the other side of the door, but you know, she's sleeping. And her bed is in there should she choose to use it.

I get that it sounds positively barbaric, but I tell you, it's probably a better tactic than, say, leaving her on the neighbor's doorstep, or shipping her to Tanzania. Which have both crossed my mind.

Today while I was doing the only thing I was able to focus on at work - surfing - I discovered that the lack of sleep is not only making me dumber, and older, it's also making me fatter. Oh my Lord I hope that this shakes out before I'm 350 pounds and sitting in the corner sucking my thumb and rocking.

My good friend Dorothy writes that Sleep is for the Weak. Well, sign my weak ass up.

The Little Miss Looms Large

It's been a kind of weird week. The Little Miss's daycare was closed this week, so we packed her up and shipped her off to spend the week at Grandma's on Sunday. We didn't get her back until Friday, and I discovered that's a really long time to go without your Little Miss.

Don't get me wrong. It was nice to have some extra time with the Little Man and to just parent one child - who can wipe his own ass! - for a change. I got to sleep straight through four nights in a row . . .bliss! And while I was sleeping I didn't have two little feet trying their best to to kick me out of bed. I had 40 extra minutes every evening by not having to put her to bed, and mornings were quicker as well not having to get her ready and constantly talk her out of being picked up.

But.

I didn't have her to cuddle. I couldn't sniff the baby smell that lingers in her hair. She wasn't there to say "hi mama!" 26 times and wave when I got home at night. I didn't get to see her cuddle her babies and then drag them down the hall by the foot, head bouncing along on the floor. I didn't get to argue with her about her outfit in the morning (ok, I secretly like that she's so strong willed, even though it's a pain.) I missed out on her fabulous bed-head in the morning (she really does get some spectacular hair going in the morning for it being thin and stick-straight). I didn't get to hear her growl, or belly-laugh. I didn't get to watch her play with cars and say "vroom vroom!" I missed her.

I don't think I was the only one. Though the Little Man staunchly denied it, I caught him more than once hiding something up high so she couldn't get it, and looking through the house for her. His dad took the same tone - mouthing that he didn't notice she wasn't around, but I caught some forlorn looks in the direction of her bedroom.

Her personality has been blossoming since she turned one, and she's been becoming more and more herself every day. Turns out, she's also become a very big part of our household. You always think these things, but it's kind of nice to have it confirmed.

It's also nice to have her back.

And now, drum roll please . . .

drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Today, 19 months to the day after she was born, she finally smiled at a camera. And yes, she's covered in chocolate cake batter.

And not wearing any pants.

Rolling Along On the House

And now, for another house update.

We are eeking ever closer to actually starting to build a house.

Yes, that sentence is an accurate portrayal of the amount of action happening with this project.
I'm telling you, this building process is like being towed by snails through a sea of molasses. It is G-O-I-N-G S-O S-L-O-W.

There has been progress. Some progress. We have final - FINAL! - house plans. That's pretty damn exciting. We've been working on them since flippin' March, but I tell you it was worth it. I luv them. I can walk through the entire house in my head, and it becomes more real with each choice of outlet height and plumbing fixture we make.

We've also gone in front of the County Commission and squeaked through a 2/1 vote to allow us to zone. After listening to 2 1/2 hours of meeting, they made this decision. After talking about our case for one ENTIRE HOUR of that time, the two meeker commissioners finally found their cojones and voted down the stronger commissioner to give us what we need. I had no idea it was such a big deal.

We MAY even be able to go straight to applying for a building permit, though no telling when the zoning department will make up their minds about that. It is fascinating to watch the wheels of local government work. They're digging back 10-20 years on our title to find out the answer to a question that I'm not convinced is relevant in the first place. I guess they need to stay busy so they can keep their phony baloney jobs. Harrumph!

We're also talking to builders. We have bids out to 4 guys, and another that wants to bid it. There are 2 front-runners at this point, but we're still trying to understand all the details well enough to know if the bids are apples to apples or not. Likely, they won't be, but I would still like to understand if the difference is made up of supplies or their margin. It would make the decision a little easier.

Any way we put it, we're going to be spending kind of a scary amount of money on the house. I don't think it's anything we can't handle, but the raw numbers are a bit shocking. Kind of scary exciting, this house building stuff.

The Little Man is pretty stoked about the new house too. He knows where his room is on the plans, and what all the other rooms are too. In the midst of this, he's started to get interested in the concept of money, but doesn't really understand dollar values yet.

"Mommy, how much is our house"

"Two dollars"

"Wow! Two dollars." He pauses for a minute. "Mom, our new house is going to be five dollars. It's going to be so awesome."

Yes, yes it is.