Today could have gone a bit better. From the early morning wakeup of a small child who brightly demanded (and didn't get) her "tubbies!" at 1 AM, to the somewhat later morning wakeup when my Boy came snuggling back under the blankets. To the interrupted nap I had this afternoon, leading me to believe in the sad truth that I may not sleep again until tonight when I'll lay in bed staring at the ceiling until my eyes dry out.

This is why I have a husband, folks. Because after the few months he's had shore duty I've become incapable of sleeping without him and I'm too hormonal at the moment to sleep with him. And yet he will still willingly let me wrap one twig-like arm around his waist in the middle of the night and count his breathing. I think I can almost go into a trance that way. It does calm the anxiety. It makes me feel warm and comforted.

It's been a day or two of making bizarre phonecalls unassisted by the hormonal storm raging through my body. I hear what people are telling me and I don't know whether or not it actually makes sense or if this is the first sign of my going off the deep end with Little Bit. Everybody remember what happened last time? Good. I don't want to rehash it. Let's not go there. Let's go... to the beach! That's right, everybody will make sand castles and watch the surf go in and out. Very relaxing. I'll sit under the cabana and let somebody bring me cold drinks. With fruit on sticks. And tiny paper umbrellas.

And while I'm doing that? Another day, another post, another addition to the Goldfish Cracker Fund. My payperpost habit has approved another couple of ad-posts. No matter whether I decide on cloth or disposable diapers for the Little Bit, it's still a bunch of money that I'd like to bring in and help the household. Cause I can't just sit on my ass eating pretzels and kosher hot dogs all day. Can I?