Sitting, weekends

I convinced Carl to take a shot of us, but he had his revenge by capturing us both in goofy expressions and cutting off the top of my funky winter hat I bought yesterday in honor of the first fluffy snow of the season. It was just barely an inch or two but boy, that seemed abrupt, somehow.

Noah went back to sleep at 7 am Saturday, but I didn’t in order to do some writing. I am seeing the dream of a complete manuscript by Dec 8 vanish into the reality that making Noah laugh is more compelling right now and that my brain is hard to start and I sort of want to cry, and yet I’m still plugging away because who cares about Dec 8 as long as I finish it? (Although I do care.) So I’m trying a sleep experiment: a little less sleep, but a more regular writing time (morning). Of course this morning Noah had no interest in going back down at 6:45 am, so there that went! We’ll see how we do next week, at least during the first half.

But next week we also have the houseguest from – somewhere purgatorial, at least: my father-in-law. He is a very well intentioned man I’m sure, but the last time he came – when we wined and dined him in a haze of Upper Canadian excess, taking him to Stratford and dinner at 360 degrees and all that – he spent the one or was it two nights at our place pointing out all the home reno projects we had yet to do in a way that didn’t make one want to share in the joy of crafstmanship yet to come, you know?

And this time he’s here without companion, for 4 entire days. Likely I’m underestimating him. But I still am braced for a difficult time. And we spent a fair amount on groceries to show off.

If I’m going to have an alcoholic drink while nursing, it’ll be this week – after 9, when Noah does his 5-hour thing.

It is nice to have the house running reasonably smoothly so that he can just arrive – yay FlyLady, or at least our version of the same. Oh I’m sure that by Tuesday I’ll come up with some part of the house to worry at, but basically everything’s tidy & clean, except Carl’s spaces and I’m just not going into that; it’s his decision to keep his office and workshop like that and at least in this house they’re not in my bedroom.

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Lately we’ve been wrestling with some multiple stuff. Lyria’s still never recovered from losing Emily – I mean none of us has, but Lyria lost something really fundamental to her that has made her thin and vulnerable and disconnected. I really thought that by now, three months into Noah’s life, she would have reconnected better. She is glad for Noah and does parent – she’s posted too – but it’s still not anywhere close to the way it was when our hope-filled fae earthy woman was around as herself. We’d like that to change, I think.