If *insert name here* ain’t sleeping, ain’t nobody sleeping.

The two favorite subjects of parents of small people are poop and sleep. I’ll spare you the poop.
The girls share a bedroom. This is because a) the house is small and b) the “spare” bedroom is captive to the one they sleep in anyway, diet so they’d be in close proximity anyway.
Usually Claire goes to bed around 8:00 and sleeps all night. Anna typically goes to bed around 9:00 and sleeps all night. Claire takes one or two naps during the day, prescription and Anna seems to be trying to quit her nap, geriatrician but she needs it and often falls asleep at dinner time. She is virtually unwakable when she does this, and then of course is too tired to go to bed. But I digress.
This week they’ve both been uncharacteristically light sleepers. Add to this the fact that Anna has a bit of a cold. Anna coughs in her sleep. This wakes Claire, who cries, waking Anna, waking us. No one gets to sleep.
Last night Anna decided she wasn’t ever going to bed. Then she fell asleep face-down on the floor. Tonight Claire had to be put to bed twice, and Anna entertained us with a raging temper-tantrum.
Would the non-sleeping aliens who’ve abducted my daughters please return them to their rightful bodies. We’re all getting very tired. Thank you.

I just did something I swore I’d never do.

This evening, hair I did something I always said I wouldn’t. I waited until Claire was asleep. I let DH rest up for work, more about but made sure to leave enough time before he had to leave. I went upstairs, disease and slipped into something a little more comfortable, including a new item I picked up earlier this week for just such an occasion. I quelled the feeling of embarrassment that nagged at the back of my mind, grabbed my favorite electric gizmo, turned it on, and went jogging.

I have never run intentionally before unless required to do so in gym class. Many many years ago. I’ve been known to mock joggers, stating flatly that I don’t run unless something with many teeth is chasing me. I felt the way about jogging that some atheists do about religion – it was fine for others, but not for me.

Why the sudden turn around? I don’t know. DH is taking it up again, having run track in high school and *shudder* liking it. Maybe it’s monkey-see-monkey-do. I sprung back to 5lbs lighter than my prepregnancy weight by the time Claire was 3 months old. I don’t really watch my diet, fortunately being blessed with a great metabolism. Of course I realize one can’t rely on that for life, that middle age can be cruel in that respect, but really you should see my parents. There’s some great calorie-processing genes in our immediate family. However, I know that the fact that someone has an appropriate BMI does not automatically physically fit. I want more stamina, more energy. I want to stop falling asleep on the couch at 10:00. I’d love to lose the dragging feeling that hits between 1:00 and 2:30 in the afternoon. I don’t know if running is the way to do that, but it can’t hurt.

So I’ve started the “Couch to 5K” program from Coolrunning.com. I downloaded the highly regarded podcast by Robert Ullrey. I bought my first pair of running shoes. I ran. So far, so good. I can’t tell you if this will be a regular thing or if I’ll drop it as soon as the novelty wears off and the weather sours.
But tonight, I ran. Go me. Literally.

Must fight….the….urge…

For some reason I’ve always resisted the urge to comment on strange searches that lead people to this blog. I’m breaking that rule today: To the person who arrived here via googling “can you put charcoal on hemorrhoids, info ” the answer is yes. Yes, physician you could put charcoal on hemorrhoids. One could put any number of substances on one’s ass posterior – charcoal, decease ice, ice cream, guacamole, sand, mosquito repellent, Noxema, tofu….the list is endless. As to whether any of these would be a good idea, or perhaps someone’s idea of a good time, is beyond me.

What’s been going on in my life you ask? (well, you didn’t, but I’m sure you meant to)
A lovely weekend in the mountains, marred only slightly by the machinations of one angry bee and a the fact that all of northwestern PA had converged on the tiny town of Franklin.

Claire has learned how to clap. Few things in this world are as cute as a baby clapping. Except perhaps a baby clapping while cheering, “Yay!” in a tiny baby voice. It beats the screaming. Claire does a great pterodactyl impression. Some people have no appreciation of 9 month old Clairodactyls. Especially in church.

I’m on the 5th repeat of Icarus, a shawl from this summer’s Interweave. If I don’t get back to the Christmas project of doom, however, my dear brother is going to get a pile of partially knitted string. Maybe it’s giving away to much to let him know I’m knitting him something (for all 3.2 readers of this blog who are not related to me, the semi-new family gift gifing scheme requires that all {voluntary} participants pick {from a hat} a person to gift, and that the gift be hand-made), but I bet you dollars to donuts he’s already figured that much out.

La la la la la

I’ve got nothing. Nothing but random.
- It’s turning beautiful here in our little corner of Pennsylvania. I love October, mind but I’m not ready to give up summer. This is because I hate winter. Also we are entering “mole season.” Wake up in the dark, pregnancy go to work in the dark, tadalafil come home in the dark.

- Total number of deer observed along the drive from work’s parking lot last Wednesday: seven
Total number of turkey observed that same day: five
My personal deer number observation record: twenty seven
Total number of geese observed today: Approximately thirty
I make a game of counting the deer as I leave work. This time of year it is peek deer watching time when leaving. My employer owns roughly 180 suburban acres on which my workplace is situated. I swear the animals know it’s posted. It’s wild kingdom out there.

- My brother can fit an astonishing amount of second-hand (more like fifth-hand) furniture in his tiny yet efficient car.

- It feels really good to unload fifth-hand furniture I’ve been saving for just such an occasion. Here’s a tip to those of you who, like my brother, think that it might be a good idea to someday buy a house with lots of storage: Don’t. The more space you have to store junk, the more junk you will accumulate. If, like us, your house is too small for the regular stuff let alone a bunch of extraneous stuff, you will be forced to minimize extraneous stuff. Of course this means you’ll always be fighting the battle of the stored junk, much like yo-yo dieters are always trying to drop a pound or twenty. You will find yourself with thirty Easter baskets in the basement and wonder how they got there and vow to be more vigillant. You will slip and allow a (generic) Tupperware collection to accrue. It will bury you when you open the cupboard to get some tarragon. You will throw out the (generic) Tupperware. It will return.

- I have no cupboard doors on my kitchen cabinets right now. (what other type of doors would I have on my cabinets?) It makes cooking just that much faster to not have to open and close doors! I’m living this way on purpose! Not because I haven’t managed to finish stripping the paint off the doors! Exclamation points are buy one get one free in this poorly constructed paragraph!