Going back to work has been pretty decent, but I gotta admit I'm entering some kind of alternate universe of sleeplessness. Our friend Kitty came by last night with some wine and I turned it down (no, you don't have to check, you're still reading Rick Hamann's blog) and hit the sack at 9pm.
I racked out pretty well until 4a.m. when I heard Eli and Diana having it out in the next room. Eli was one mad little monkey. I crawled into the room and saw that Diana had exhausted her tricks and had a look of desperation that only comes at 4a.m. So I volunteered to try a few of my tricks.
Little does Diana know, my one and only trick is to hold Eli and walk in a figure 8 in our living room. For some reason, this calms him 9 out of 10 times. I think watching his father look like a moron makes him supremely happy. Unfortunately, every time I tried to put him back in his crib, he wailed. As if to say, "Walk in a figure 8, old man!" So figure 8 I did.
He finally fell asleep at about 5a.m. Rather than risk waking up poor Diana again, I put him in his vibrating chair. Grover and I fought over the blanket on our couch and I drifted off at 5:30-ish. Now, at 5:31, the paper boy hit our front porch with the Tribune. I learned that a Tribune hitting our porch sounds exactly like a baby falling out of a vibrating chair. I lept up off the couch and clutched my heart. Grover looked at me and lifted his paw in a desperate attempt to give me the middle finger.
After giving myself CPR and changing my pants, I took Eli upstairs and went back to my own bed at bout 6:15. The alarm went off at 6:30.
Oh yeah, I forgot Eli pictures again today. So enjoy this photo of a bear on a computer.
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