Good, night

"In between the moon and you the angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right."

-- Round Here, Counting Crows



It's almost 5 a.m. I have just gotten Jacob to go to sleep. Ahhhhhh.

I've stewed a lot today about why Joe should have scheduled his Florida trip for another time. I've gotten pissed at the Huggies people for the package of defective diapers I managed to buy that cost me two loads of laundry just today. I nearly burned out the motor on one of my car's windows thinking I had outsmarted the ice that collected in the crevices of the door. I've stared down parts of the house and over hours and hours slowly concluded that cleaning them could wait another day or two or three. I even sat on the toilet at midnight and dealt with the constipation that no coffee will do to a person, while simultaneously feeding a bottle to a newborn parked in a carrier, assessing a kindergartener's mysterious leg injury and trying to get through a column of news briefs in the nation section of the newspaper.

I'm talented, I tell ya.

And now, now that I've spent the past few hours doing little more than what I do every night -- figuring out a little person -- I finally succeeded in figuring out a little person: he will sleep when he's damn well ready.

I'm going to do something I would never think of getting away with if Joe were here: I'm going to collect my two beautiful, sleeping children and sleep in my bed with them, cuddled up, as long as they will allow me to.