Friday, March 21, 2014

My own worst enemy

I refuse to apologize for the long delay since it was caused by me taking care of a newborn and a toddler, both of whom crave all my attention all the time.  Eli's paternity leave is almost over, and I'm so glad he was home to help, sort of.  He's been working on a private project, but he pitches in when he can.  I hate sleep deprivation.  You'll notice that statement was not preceded by anything like "I had forgotten how much..."  I remembered the complete suckage of getting less than an hour of sleep in a two-day period.  And yet here I am again.  Despite this, I've been getting some projects done.  A pair of gloves, a little monkey, several pairs of sheets, curtains, you get the idea. 

New designs.

More new designs.

Material for sheets.

D's new blankie.

Punny gloves for a friend.

Stuffed monkey and blankie for another friend's baby boy.

Monkey butt.

The other side of the blankie.

New dino construction blankie.

A second dino construction blankie.
A commission for a friend's niece.


I haven't finished putting C's room together (Glowworm didn't stick, what can I say, I'm fickle), but he's still sleeping in the bassinet anyway.  He's also still on the heart/apnea monitor.  Our pediatrician says we'll re-evaluate after his two month appointment.  He still thinks the bradycardias and apneas are caused by an immature nervous system, which means he'll eventually grow out of them.  He's been gaining weight like a pro (almost 7 1/2 pounds as of Wednesday), so that's one less thing to worry about. 

In other news, we're putting our house on the market, mostly because we like to do all the hard things at once.  I'm expecting it to either sell right away, forcing us to pack up and move while I'm still not sleeping, or not sell at all, hamstringing my plan to move to a warmer climate before winter sets in again (next winter, not the continuing freezing temps that are normal for this time of year in the frozen tundra).  This starts a vicious cycle where I feel like we should fix things like the mysteriously missing baseboards, but there are so many things to fix, big and small, that it seems like a waste of time.  Then I look around and wonder who would buy a house with only 3/4 of its baseboards.  Then I realize I've been stressing about crazy stuff when I should have been sleeping.  Then the baby cries and I'm up to feed him while my mind wanders to all the stuff we really should fix if we want to sell the house.  See, vicious.  And crazy.

Gotta go, D just dumped a bunch of toys on C sleeping in his swing.  At least he's sharing.

His face says it all.

The best I'll probably get.