Sun 28 Jun 2009

Figuring things out

Posted by badmuthablogger under Gluten Free, Health, Hospital, Sick
[3] Comments 

I haven’t figured out yet what to do about blogging. It’s been almost a month, and I must admit it’s been rather nice to have a computer free evening to myself. But it’s also been lonely. There’s a gap in my life where the blog used to be.

And for the record, I’m still bloody knackered. Not blogging hasn’t given me any more spare time to kick back and take it easy. No such luck. I go to bed knackered, I wake up knackered, and in between I stumble about in a sleep deprived daze. So while I’m thinking about what to do with this blog, I’m back online with a brand new post. And by the way, thanks to all of you who said you missed me. I missed me too. And of course I missed you.

Today was another emergency room day. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been in the ER in the last 15 months. Way more than my fair share. Bunny seems to have a knack for coming a cropper on Sundays. If it was a Monday we could have gone to the regular docs. But no, it’s a Sunday, and so we have to go the ER.

At the entrance, we were stopped and I was asked a bunch of daft questions about how I was feeling, and did I have a sore throat, etc. even though I wasn’t sick.  I obviously gave the wrong answers because the next thing you know I had a mask stuck over my face in case I spread the piggy flu to all and sundry.

It’s bad enough sitting in the emergency room with a squawking baby, with everyone shooting dagger looks at you, thinking: Can’t you quiet that baby What kind of a mother are you? Nevermind sitting there with a bright yellow face mask on, letting everyone know you might have the dreaded lurgy.  

Poor old bunny has been a sickly bickly the last couple of days. I thought it was more teeth coming in (do they ever stop?) then I thought it was allergies (more about this later). He was sleeping worse than usual (hard to believe it can get any worse) and waking up crying and moaning and jerking his body around like he was in pain. Finally this morning he started making horrible little rasping sounds, like he couldn’t breathe, and looking all wide-eyed and frightened like he was caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic. It was awful.

We rushed off to the hospital, me in a complete panic, whereupon we had to wait for HOURS only to be told that they didn’t really know what was wrong with him. His breathing did seem to get better after a while. My theory is that he was screaming so hard it cleared his passages.

They gave him some pink Tylenol liquid which he promptly vomited up all over my new top and jeans, mixed in with the raspberries and blueberries that he’d had for breakfast. It was spectacularly colorful and fragrant.

The doctor looked briefly down one of bunny’s ears (he couldn’t get anywhere near the other, my bunny is a fighter) and said it looked pink and was most likely an ear infection.

Had I noticed bunny pulling his ears at all? he wanted to know.

Well, of course I had doc, but he always does that when he’s knackered.

The RN came in afterwards and told me that the doctor didn’t have a clue what to diagnose, and that they routinely prescribe amoxycillin when they don’t know what’s up. They simply cross their fingers and hope the antibiotics will kill anything and everything that might be causing the symptoms.

Needless to say, what little faith I had in the medical industry is dwindling to a nub these days.

You have to become your own doctor in today’s world, and figure these things out yourself. And yes. I think I’ve figured it out.

Bunny has gluten intolerance. He’s about to become gluten free baby. It’s taken me a month of Sundays to figure it out, but all the pieces of the puzzle are starting to fall into place. I’m not sure if he’s got Celiac’s disease (the more serious version) but for sure he can’t eat anything that has wheat, gluten or dairy in it. It’s going to put a big downer on mealtimes, especially when we have to go out to parties and wotnot. But I can’t tell you what a relief it is to figure this out. I have a handle on things. I can help my poor bunny sleep better. I can help him feel better. It’s all down to the food. And that’s all down to me. At last, something in my control.

I might not be able to figure out blogging, but I’ve got bunny’s health covered.

 

Sat 6 Jun 2009

Stopping blogging

Posted by badmuthablogger under Bunny, Father of the Baby
[9] Comments 

I’ve been stalling on my blogging lately, and wondering whether I should knock it on the head. Give it a rest, like. Put it to bed. You know, stop blogging.

Plagued with doubts, I’m wondering if its a good idea to blog about bunny at all. What’s he going to feel when he gets older, and sees his picture splashed about all over the net? The intimate details of his sleeping habits out on view for every Tom, Dick and Harry to have a butchers?

What if there are freaks and sickos out there looking at photos of my bunny and sending him bad vibes? Even worse, what if they’re getting off on how cute he is.  You know, like in a bad way.

And it’s not just about the bunny. I’ve also been questioning whether I should be blogging about the F.O.B. For one thing, he’s bound to stumble across this blog one of these days. I’ve nearly slipped up and told him about it once or twice in passing conversation. I don’t think some of the content would go down too well with him. He’s of a different generation. He wouldn’t understand. Plus he’s terribly, terribly English. He’d think it was awfully improper to be washing one’s dirty laundry in public.

It all comes back to the bunny again. He’s the most important one in all of this. He’s innocent and pure. Vulnerable and impressionable. I don’t want him growing up and seeing the horrible things that mummy said about daddy, or the horrible things that daddy said about mummy. I want to shield him from all that unnecessary negative stuff. I don’t want him to know how mama and papa fought about child support and birth certificates and paternity tests. It’s far too ugly and it needs to be swept under the rug and out the door.

So, what to do… I could go back and delete all the posts that seem “unsuitable” or  rewrite them. Or I could take the whole blog down, and start again from scratch, being more mindful and considerate with my words. One thing’s for sure, I need to put some deep thought into this, and figure out what to do next. For bunny.

 

Wed 3 Jun 2009

15 months old today!!!

Posted by badmuthablogger under Birthday, Letters to Bunny
[4] Comments 

It’s your birthday again, bunny! It’s hard to believe that this time last year we were in New Mexico visiting Grandpa and Grandma, and you looked like this: 

bunny_nm_1

and like this:

bunny_nm_3

and now you look like this:

bunny_london2

Same big bright eyes, only now they’re not so blue anymore but turning green like your mama’s. You don’t seem to have grown any hair in the last year. In fact you seem to actually have LESS hair. There’s a few wisps in the back, and some very fine blond down appearing on top. But it’s slow-growing bunny, and looking very fine and thin on the ground. Your half brothers and sister all have very white wispy blond hair. It looks like you’ve inherited those genes from that side of the family.  

That’s a London swing by the way. Check out that design. All square and cage like, with a good rubber handle grip. Pretty swish, huh? Not like the plastic bucket swings we got on this side of the pond. They got proper swings back in Blighty.

This past month we’ve been back in England visiting your papa. It was a whirlwind trip, but you had a fabulous time. We went to Battersea Children’s zoo, where you fed straw to the goats and were fascinated by the monkeys. Then we spent a day at the Princess Diana Memorial Park. Possibly the best children’s park in the world with a full size climbing pirate ship, sunken treasure, waterways, Robinson Crusoe type play structures, musical sculptures, and more!

bunny_london

You LOVE the water.

bunny_london2

And you want to stand up ALL the time now. You haven’t started walking properly yet, but while we were in London you managed a few steps from your papa’s arms to mine. Your legs are getting strong as an ox, and you’ve been teeter tottering around the furniture and pulling yourself up to standing on anything you can get your hands on.

Mostly you like to be walked around with your mama’s hands to support you, but you can also move on your own like the clappers on your red Radio Flyer walker that Auntie bought you for your birthday. You careen up and down the house with that thing like there’s no tomorrow. It’s messing up the wood floors, and the landlady is probably going to have a cow when she sees the damage, but it’s worth it to see the look of triumphant glee on your face.

You’ve also mastered the stairs in the last month. Coming down is a bit tricky, but you can whizz up them in a flash. Well done, bunny. I’m so proud of you.

In London we did quite a bit of sightseeing. You’ve been a real trooper squeezing back into the Ergo sling, even though you’re getting on the big side for such things. You’re a heavy beast, but it’s much easier than trying to carry you in my arms.

bunny_london1

I think the Bugaboo’s days are numbered. You only seem to last about 5 minutes in there before you start bucking like a bronco to get out. Here’s a rare moment of you chilling in the Bugaboo in the back of a London cabbie. Better than being strapped in car seat, eh? 

bunny_taxi

I’m happy to say that this month the biting seems to have stopped. No more new teeth breaking through. You seem to have chewed your way through a fair few of your books, though. And the floor mats are totally ruined with teethmarks. But so long as you don’t bite me, I’m happy sweet-pea.

You’ve guzzled down a LOT of food of late. Whole boxes of strawberries and blueberries have disappeared in one sitting. You scoffed double helpings of broccoli and spaghetti (your top favourite meal of all time), and tonight you even scarfed a load of chicken down your neck. Yup, that’s right. You’ve turned carnivore. I’ve managed to keep you on a vegetarian diet for the last 15 months, but now I’ve decided a man needs to eat his meat to grow big and strong. What with you still being super allergic to dairy and wheat, I was having a hard time getting your nutritional needs met.  So I gave up and started feeding you chicken, sausage, and even beef. 

Your latest trick is pointing. You wake up and the first thing you do is point. You point at this and you point at that, all day long. You never get bored of the pointing game. I think you get a kick out of making me look here, there and everywhere.

You haven’t started talking yet, although you seem to call me da-da-da and grandma ga-ga-ga. I’m holding out for a proper ma-ma-ma.

I’m not going to mention sleep. Other than to say, not much change there.

bunny_london1

 That’s papa’s bath contraption, which makes me horribly nervous. But better than trying to give you a bath in that enormous, bottomless tub he’s installed in his house. The “bachelor bath” I call it.

We’ve had another fun-filled month together, bunny. I’ve loved watching you grow into a beautiful little feisty and strong willed toddler. Did I mention that everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) loves you to bits? I can’t tell you how many people come up to me and say how lucky I am to have such a happy, smiley baby. Hundreds of people, many of them strangers, have told me you are the smiliest, cutest baby they have ever seen. That you should be a baby model. That you have the biggest eyes and the widest smile, and the most expressive face.

You are an extraordinary Buddha Bunny. You bring happiness to everyone you meet, and most of all to me. I am the most blessed mama in the world. Just thinking of you asleep upstairs right now, makes my heart glow with warmth.

Happy birthday, bun-buns! Many happy returns of the month!!!

With all my love, always

Mummy xxxxxxx

 

Sun 31 May 2009

Computer obsessed baby

Posted by badmuthablogger under Addiction, Bunny, Parenting
[3] Comments 

Computer BabyBunny has developed an unhealthy fascination with all things electronic.  He’s completely obsessed with my iPhone, ever since I let him play with those toddler apps I downloaded for the flight to England and back. He now thinks the iPhone is his personal everyday toy, and he wants it in his paws at all times.

The regular telephone has also become a highly coveted item. There are several receivers dotted around the house, and I tend to leave them lying all over the shop in true slummy mummy style. Bunny likes to make a beeline for the phone, pressing all the buttons, calling up various people for a chat, and leaving the phone off the hook for God only knows how long. Fortunately, I have an unlimited domestic call rate, but still… it’s a worrisome habit.

His electronic fetish includes anything that has lights or buttons or beeps. The elevator in the mall, the oven, the washing machine, the dishwasher, the stereo, the baby monitor, my camera, the Flip video recorder, light switches, the garage opener, remote controls, and the dashboard of the car. These all hold an insatiable allure for the bun-buns.

Bunny has a particular penchant for my car key fob. He can unlock and lock my car while sitting inside the house a thousand times in less than an hour. He never gets bored nor bothered that the incessant beeping might be causing a wee bit of noise pollution out on the street.

But all this electronic infatuation pales in comparison to the biggest obsession of all: my computer. He can’t take his eyes off it. I can see it on his face: my laptop is the God of electronica. The ultimate desire. The toy of all toys. He wants it more than anything. If I let him, he would stare at the screen forever, and press the keys to make images and sounds until the cows came home.

I’m not into happy about this state of affairs. I’ve tried really hard to keep electronic toys out of the house. There are a few things that go beep and flash, but in the main we have top quality, classical, wooden toys that promote learning through play. I even got rid of the television and DVD player. I don’t want my baby growing up with square eyes and attention deficit disorder. I want to shelter him as long as possible from the damaging effects of mainstream media.

The root of the trouble is, in a nutshell.. me. 

I spend an inordinate amount of time on my computer. It’s ridiculous. I admit it. I’m addicted. I can’t seem to function without being online every day. The computer is always on in the house. Throughout the day I check emails, look up stuff, do shopping and generally nerd on the net. Not for very long, but I do manage to squeeze in an awful lot of online time into the small  in-between spaces of my life while bunny plays nearby. And when bunny sees me on the computer, he wants to “play” with the computer too. He wants in on the action. He wants some of what mama’s got. He wants to know what this thing is that captivates my attention so completely.

I’ve only got myself to blame. Parenting is all about role modeling.

So now I’m going to try a new rule. The computer stays off and hidden as long as bunny is awake and in the room. When he goes to bed, I can log on. When he’s up and about, I log off. God knows it’s got to be good for me too.

 

Fri 29 May 2009

Leopards and spots

Posted by badmuthablogger under Child Support, Father of the Baby
1 Comment 

I haven’t figured anything out yet. I’m still lost at sea with the F.O.B. My blogging has slid to the wayside, and I’m not sure it will ever recover.

I’m horrendously jet-lagged. Flying to England and back in one week with the bunny in tow, has taken it’s toll on this old mama. I hate flying at the best of times, but now flying has taken on a much deeper level of discomfort. No more kicking back in business class with a glass of bubbly, a good book and a couple of top notch flicks. Flying with a toddler is a whole different kettle of fish. It’s an effing nightmare, peeps.

But back to the F.O.B. We talked. We ate. I slept. (Not together. We had separate rooms). We played with bunny, and visited lots of London parks and fed lots of fat, happy quack-quacks. We went over-the-top shopping at Hamleys, London’s greatest toy shop. Bunny went absolutely beserk in the shop, running around in circles shrieking and pulling everything off shelves. If the F.O.B. hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have lasted five seconds with that kind of shenanigans going on. Shopping with bunny is a hair-raising experience. Enough said.

The weather was fabulous for a change. It almost made me want to move back, until the last day when it turned gray and dreary, bucketed down rain, and took over 2 hours to get from North London to Heathrow in the most insane traffic you’ve ever seen.  And then I remembered all the reasons I don’t want to move back to England. Dark. Depressing. Dirty. Overcrowded. Overpriced. Grumpy people. No thanks.

I was only there for a week, and I don’t think I got onto any kind of solid ground with the F.O.B. during that time. But we did (sort of) build a small bridge of trust between us. More importantly, a relationship budded between him and bunny. There was real love and joy between them. It made my heart sing to witness it.

The bottom line: I want bunny to have his father in his life, and that means somehow I have to find a way to make an amicable relationship between me and the F.O.B.

It’s early days. I feel like I’m only just starting to get to know the F.O.B. He has hidden depths. And truth told, I don’t want to know everything about him. I’m willing to let go of the past. Forgive and forget. Move on. I have to do this for bunny. For his sake, not mine.

What I want above all is to find the place of honesty and integrity between the F.O.B. and me, a place where we can make good and right decisions about bunny’s future, without letting our own baggage get in the way. Together. I’m willing to believe it’s possible. I’m willing to believe leopards can change their spots. Maybe he’s changed. I know I have.

 

Mon 18 May 2009

Lost at sea with the F.O.B.

Posted by badmuthablogger under Father of the Baby
[5] Comments 

Bunny and I are going to see the F.O.B. tomorrow. It’s been 4 months since we last saw him. Bunny has changed so much in that time. I’ve changed so much. Even though he’s called almost every day, in many ways I feel like we’re going to visit a stranger. Like we’re going to meet our long-lost arranged marriage partner from overseas. It’s weird. 

I don’t know how I feel about seeing him. Of course, I’m excited for Bunny to see him. Just not sure about my own feelings. He wants to have “important discussions” about our future. By which I assume he means he wants us to get married and live in Singapore. I can’t tell if I should go along with his plan because he’s kind and good, and he loves me and his son. I’m so unsure of myself these days. I don’t trust what I feel anymore.

I can’t remember why I was mad at him before. I can’t remember what he did wrong. There  was the little incident of him not telling me the truth about being married already. But he’s divorced now, so didn’t he make up for his mistake? Surely there must have been more water under the bridge than that? I know he’s a dark horse, and I’ll probably never know what really goes on in his head. I’ve called him a slippery eel on more than one occasion. But does it matter? Can I accept him and love him for who he is? Can I forgive and let go of the past, and move on to the future?

I wish that I could figure out this relationship and love stuff. You know, get a grip on what makes a partnership between a man and woman work in the long-term. Whether staying together for a child is the best thing, or the worst thing. Or is there something in between?

I didn’t plan for any of this. I thought I’d meet my soulmate one day, and we’d settle down in our hand built cob house, with some chickens and a couple of cows, and a field full of veggies and fruit trees. After a few years of blissful lovemaking , nest building and heartfelt communication, we’d co-create a couple of wonderful children and spend our days making crafts and cooking goodies together as a team. One big, happy family living in harmony with nature.

The life I’ve created is a long way from that pipe dream. It’s OK, I can let go and accept the different life that I have instead. But I wish that I knew what to do with the F.O.B. situation, one way or another. It’s so confusing, and there’s so much at stake. I want Bunny to have a father. I want us to be good role models for him. I want so badly to do the right thing. And yet I have no role models, no reference points and no guides to tell me what to do and how to do it. Somehow I have to navigate these rocky seas by myself, and hope to find land that is rich and fertile for new growth. And the trouble is, I don’t seem to have my sea legs about me.

 

Sun 17 May 2009

My first ever hate comment

Posted by badmuthablogger under Rage, Rant
[8] Comments 

I got my first hate comment yesterday. I dithered over whether to publish it or not, and then I thought fuck it. I’m gonna put it right here in the middle of this post and write about it instead. So here goes, Elise whatsername, you got front row seats and your name up in the limelight:

Oh good grief.  Wean your child.  Put him in daycare for a half day or day.  GET A JOB! Instead of living off someone and whining all the time, why don’t take a little responsibility.  Maybe instead of blowing money on vacations (your whole life is a vacation – do you want your son to grow up with your values?), hire someone to help clean your house so you can get your life in order.  Your “poor pitiful me” attitude is stifling – no wonder you are tired.  Go the doctor, get some help.  You have a beautiful little boy, get yourself together for both your sakes.

My whole life is a vacation?? Get a job?? WTF?! For the record, I HAVE a full-time job. It’s called being a single mother.

I know I shouldn’t take this personally, but when a complete stranger stumbles across your blog, reads some of it, and then totally slams you into the ground, without actually knowing your full story, well…. it makes me want to scream and pull my hair out and then crumple into a heap of frustrated, misunderstood tears. That and punch them in the nose.

If I didn’t have an inner critic the size of a mammoth, then this sort of petty shit would slide over me like water off a duck’s back. But you know, I am a sensitive, recovering addict with violent, narcissistic tendencies, and this woman’s comment got right up my nose and under my skin.

And hey, I think it’s OK for me to get shirty since this is my first ever hate comment an’ all. Future hate comments will be censored and deleted without any bad feelings on my part.

In the meantime, oi! Elise whatsername. Get a life. Oh, and do send me a link to your own blog so I can return the favour. An eye for an eye, an’ all that. I would LOVE to tell you how to live your life.

 

Fri 15 May 2009

Surrendering to sleeplessness

Posted by badmuthablogger under Sleep, Zen
[3] Comments 

At the risk of sounding like a broken down record… effing hell I’m TIRED. I wasn’t going to bang on about lack of sleep any more, since I’ve flogged that horse to death. But being knackered is the biggest thing happening in my life right now. Complete and total exhaustion. I have nothing else to write about. The only thing running through my head is endless fatigue.

This is serious, peeps. I’m so shattered I can’t tell if I’m in reality or dreaming. I’ve got that trippy, toxic feeling like I’ve been up all night on acid. Or coke. Or speed. My eyes look like two pissholes in the snow. I’ve got deep cracks in my tongue. I yawn about 3 times a minute.

Last night I went to bed after midnight after faffing about trying to clear out yet another box from the bottomless stuffed cupboard. All part of my 6 week spring clean plan, which is bleeding into summer, and bleeding my energy dry, but the good news is I’m making progress, peeps. One box at a time.

Unfortunately, bunny decided to have one of his worst nights ever, waking up every hour writhing around and moaning like he’s on fire. It’s his teethies again. Or maybe its that Indian curry and chapati we ate. Whatever. All I know is I got about 4 hours of heavily interrupted sleep. Which I could probably handle if it was a one-off, but sadly this sort of milarkey has been going on for, oh, nearly 15 months now.

I’ve been thinking about this bloke I know back in the UK, who broke the world sleep deprivation record a couple of years ago. Tony went without sleep for 11 days. I checked him out after a week, to see how he was holding up and to see if he’d turned into a psychotic, slobbering monster. Unbelievably, he could still string a few words together. However, he’d more or less turned into a zombie. He didn’t look too spiffy, and he smelt like caca. I kept a safe distance in case he turned rabid. He had the presence of a dead man, but I had a feeling that he could turn psycho in a moment’s notice.

Tony’s theory is that sleep deprivation unlocks the potential of our brains, and improves our health, immune system and overall sense of wellbeing.

What a load of ol’ bollocks. My brain has never been so addled. My health is crumbling. My immune system is teetering on the edge of collapse. I feel like crapola.

Tony also claims that mystics have been practising sleep deprivation for thousands of years in order to access higher states of consciousness, and commune with the spirit world. Lack of sleep brings you closer to the gods. Hmmm.. now that I can sort of understand, since I do feel like a ghost. I’m not in the land of the living, that’s for sure.

I think this could be the solution to my fate (apart from getting more sleep, which doesn’t seem to be on the cards for the foreseeable future). Not to resist what is happening in my life, but instead to embrace my weariness, and build it into my spiritual parenting practice. Let go and surrender to sleeplessness. Might as well go with the flow, since I have a sinking feeling that this lack of sleep stuff is going to be around for a few years to come.

 

Tue 12 May 2009

Mid life baby boom

Posted by badmuthablogger under Mothers over 40
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I went to my “Mother’s-Over-4o” playdate today. Out of all my mother support groups, this one is the most well attended. There are LOADS of first time mamas in their 40s around here.

Lisa (47) was there. The last time I saw her, she had a baby about the same age as bunny. Now she’s 5 months pregnant with twin buns in the oven. She looks fantastic. Slim and trim, radiant and glowing. Up close she definitely has more wrinkles than me, but she carries herself with such confidence and pizzaz, that she could be in her 20s.  Then there’s Wendy (43) who has a 1 year old, and is 4 months pregnant with her 2nd. She looks like she’s in her early 30s.

Renee (46), Deirdre (46), Karen (48) and Rachel (45) all have toddlers the same age as bunny. And there’s at least another 50 or so mamas that I haven’t officially met yet. All of them are older than me. In this group, I’m the spring chicken mama.

For whatever reason (late relationships, second marriages, careers) women are having their babies later on in life. Mamas are definitely getting older.

The average age of 1st time mothers in my town is 40 years old. Last year it was 39 years old. This isn’t a Northern California thing. This is a trend that is emerging across America and the UK. In the last 20 years the number of mothers giving birth over 40 has doubled. No longer an oddity, we are fast becoming the norm. We are in the midst of a mid-life baby boom.

I grew up thinking that 35 was WAY too old to have a baby.  I was expecting to be a grandmother myself by the time I got into my 40s. Yet here I am on the other side of 40 with a 1 year old, and seriously considering having another one. Who knows, maybe I’ll have 2 more, or even 3. According to the statistics, I’ve got plenty of time.

Are you ever too old to have a baby? Will your children grow up ashamed that you look more like their grandparents? Will their needs be unmet, because you’re too arthritic to run around after them? Will they end up having to take care of you instead?

Maybe. But what I know for sure, is that if I’d had a baby in my 20s or early 30s, they would be SERIOUSLY fucked up by now. I couldn’t take care of myself, much less look after a bairn. For me, the decision to have a family later in life, although mostly an unconscious one, is the best decision I ever made. Finally in my 40s I have the ability to raise my child consciously with the care and compassion he deserves. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

 

Mon 11 May 2009

Bloggers block

Posted by badmuthablogger under Mental Health, Sleep
1 Comment 

My blogging has been falling to the wayside. I’m too knackered to stay up past 8pm and write anything worth a damn on my computer.

I’ve got bloggers block. I was hoping that if I didn’t write anything for a couple of days, I’d feel refreshed and bursting to the brim with fascinating tidbits to blog about. Instead I’m burned out with blotto brain. I could write about the weather, which is a very English thing to do. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it? Mind you, it’s a bit too hot and dry. Still, mustn’t grumble. There. Done that. Now what?

I could blog about the bunny not sleeping, but I think I’ve rammed that one into the ground. It’s an old story that’s done it’s rounds, time to put it to bed once and for all.

Tell you what, I’ll let you know when he DOES sleep. If that day ever comes, it will be an effing miracle.

But back to my block. Did you know there’s zillions of blogs about unblocking bloggers block? I’ve perused as many as my noodle brain can handle at this hour, and it all seems to boil down to the following nugget of wisdom:

Just Start Blogging.

So that’s what I’m going to do. Tomorrow. Blog through the block and come out the other side a better blogger.

 

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