I’m still on Saturday, I think, or maybe Sunday. It’s been crazy around here.

On Sunday, I taught Sunday school, then went to a friend’s baby shower, came home & changed, then we went to the park (along with every single other parent and toddler in a 3 mile radius) where we met up with some friends deliberately and more friends by luck.

As we got ready to leave, I made my worst mother of the year audition tape by lifting Noah up and cracking his head directly into the monkey bars above. After the sobbing subsided, we were able to establish that there was neither blood nor a rising goose-egg, so we didn’t go to the hospital.

Last night, Jill left just after Noah and I got home. She had a committee meeting at church. Noah sobbed about her leaving, and refused to eat a single bite of dinner. He drank a lot of milk and apple juice, though. (Not together. He was two-fisting it.) He also cried for her at bedtime, and did this weird thing where he kept pushing the blanket to me and saying “dah dah dah” — but whether I took the blanket away, handed it back, or spread it over him, he whined and cried “No, Mommy!” Lather, rinse, repeat.
I had grand plans about cleaning and organizing after Noah went to sleep, but instead fell asleep at 8:20 in front of Project Runway reruns.

Noah made up for it all by sleeping until 6:07 am.