I have a suspicion that I will one day have a kitchen with functional appliances and a broad expanse of countertop, and I will still use one burner and a 2’ x 2’ space of counter for chopping and cooking. 

And now: another journal entry in the life of “I’m up in the wee hours of the morning and it’s so not exciting but I’m writing it anyway.

I am seriously exhausted. Baba woke up between 12:30 and 2am, and half the time he was cooing in his sleep, which required Hubby or myself to rush in there and shove a pacifier in his mouth, simply because if he keeps up the sleep-cooing, he’ll wake himself up and be majestically put out. So we’re both tired.

But on the whole we had a good weekend at home, which for us has been a rare thing lately, because our home, in the midst of renovation, is not always pleasant. I bought Freebird a much-adored toy on eBay, so his weekend was made extra more awesome by the electronic stylings of the Wiggles play along guitar. Baba was happy to practice sitting up and playing with his baby toys - he’s of an age where he’s into toys. Oh, the long slide that begins now.

But soon our weekends will be filled with one or the other of us traveling. I go to a conference in a little under a week; Hubby takes a long weekend in Vegas at the end of the month. In the middle is Passover, which, dammit dammit dammit, is on a weekend this year (BOOOOOO!) and through all that I have a mammoth writing project underway.

I’m looking into ways to train my body to need less sleep, but so far, my solutions are chemical, and too much caffeine tends to make a strung out nutcase out of me. I need to need less sleep, even as I need more sleep.

Freebird thoughtfully asked if he could watch Baby Einstein this morning,
which is nice because Baba has been up since 6:30 and he needs a rest. There
is nothing more soothing than Baby Einstein, except maybe Baby Vicodin.

Anyway, I was asking Freebird about what we were watching, and I said, “Is
that bubbles, or is that goo?”

Hubby: “Bubbles or goo?!”

Morag: “That is a perfectly acceptable question to ask when one is watching
Baby Einstein.”

Last night, Hubby was up from 230 to 3, then I got up at 3 and relieved him so he could get away from the bleating of the unhappy Baba O’Riley, who had a fever, couldn’t keep Tylenol down, and was generally awake and miserable until about 3.45. I took him downstairs for the bleating period and was treated to the following.

Morag: Shhhhh. Shhhhh. *contemplates whether the pacifying effects of Baby Einstein: Baby Mozart are a good idea at 3am. Probably not.*

Baba O’Riley: I AM MAD. I DON’T FEEL GOOD. I AM HOT. I AM MAD. BLEEEEEAAAAAAT. BLEEEEEEEEEAAAAAT. AND I DON’T WANT YOU TO SIT DOWN. I WANT TO WALK AROUND AND BE HELD UPRIGHT AND LOOK AT EVERYTHING. I AM MAD! MAD, I TELL YOU! WAAAAAAAAAH!

Morag: OMG. It is 3 am and I’m carrying around a ~20 pound baby. I will probably not get any more sleep. I wonder how badly I’ll function tomorrow having started my day three hours early? Dude, you are heavy. SHHHHHHHHHH!

Baba O’Riley: WOMAN I TELL YOU AGAIN! I AM HOT! I DON’T FEEL GOOD! I AM HOT! BLEEEEEAAAAT! NO! NO SITTING DOWN! I WILL START TO FALL ASLEEP AND THEN I WILL KICK YOU IN THE ARM! WHAT A GREAT IDEA! KICK KICK KICK BLEAT BLEAT BLEAT KICK KICK KICK BLEEEEAAAAAT!

Morag: This sucks.

Eventually Baba passed out, Hubby put him in the crib successfully without waking him up, and we all went back to sleep. Six am arrived way too damn soon for us, and Baba, the lucky boy, slept until nearly 7.

I hope he does that sleeping thing, minus the bleating, tomorrow morning. 

I love April Fool’s Day. Concocting some outlandish story that causes someone a bit of alarm and then, PHEW, oh it’s a joke! I don’t ever want to scare anyone into thinking that someone they love is hurt (that’s not funny at all) or that they’re in some peril, but a large and ridiculous inconvenience looming on the horizon? Could be lots of fun.

Over at the other site we’re running a prank that’s part evil, part tribute. We’ve been “merged” with our biggest online competitor, Dear Author, and now we’re writing letters as reviews for books, under the names “Jandy” and “Jarah” (A play on the fact that everyone who blogs at DA has a pen name starting with “J.”

I’m so pleased with how the April Fool’s site turned out. Candy - Jandy - did a great job. I love it. 

I know a certain Southern belle who sold her unwanted wedding gifts on eBay.

And now I have ideas about the multitude of glass platters in the shape of giant vagina flowers that hide in my china cabinet.

I’m trying to figure out if there’s a way for Hubby and I to go to Quebec City or Montreal for a weekend, without paying an arm and a leg in travel costs.

Hmmm, I think to myself. Perhaps there is a train service that goes somewhat express-ly to Montreal? So I Google “express train to Montreal.”

There is one! Via the Harlem Railroad. Huh. Harlem Railroad? Never heard of it. Lemme look.

New York Times! It’s from the NY Times! How cool!

Oh.

Article date: May 22. 1870.

Never mind.