—Oh Holy Christ. Is anyone watching Private Practice? I know, I know. But a)hot bald man and b)pregnant people. I’m addicted. And tonight’s birth tub birth is making me cry.
—I think tonight is the first Friday night ever in the history of LittleA’s life that she declined to go with her Papa. “I can’t go”, she said and buried her head in M’s shoulder. “My feelings are hurt” and that’s all we could get out of her. Even the promise of a trip to Target couldn’t tempt her, so we piled up on the couch under a velour Dora blanket and turned on the Simpsons.
Today was a crazy day at Chez Luft. LittleA evidently woke up around 3 a.m. and noticed her dad was missing from the bed. (Bless him; he volunteered to sleep on the couch so that I could sleep a full night. He snores.) When I looked up groggily, she was inching off the bed with her pillow. “I’m going to sleep with my daddy!” And then the kid was awake for the day at 6:30 a.m., which I’m sorry, is just not how we roll.
You can imagine how our day went. By 3, finally she was asleep in my bed. Oh, naps! I miss you so much.
Oh, crap. I got distracted by the TV and lost my train of thought. See ya’ll tomorrow.
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