Monday, June 15, 2015

My Face Is Up Here

Not that looks are important. We all know it's appearances that count. Unless you home school. Then you wear whatever  you can find and you can show your student ID card if the fashion police catch you.

Fortunately, the only social outing we had this week was to a homeschoolers' event so as long as we could run faster than the other sweatpants-snow boot-sporting kids we were safe.

Unfortunately, its been really warm here so snow boots were out of the question. Which was a bummer because Malachi has snow boots. In fact right at this  moment, snow boots are all that he has. He outgrew his regular shoes and his water sandals got left at the Grandparent's this weekend. Normally that would not be a problem as there is generally someone wanting to or needing to stay home from any errand we need to run. But everyone wanted to go to the much anticipated delayed-yearbooks-and-pizza-party.

So, also due to the warm weather, I decided socks would be just fine for Malachi. It must have been fate, because we actually found matching socks for him. Not so much for Fiona.

             Not that she cared at all. She was just as confident striding around the parking lot, as if she were wearing Jimmy Choo's, instead of her brother's mismatched hand me down socks. Socks rarely get worn out. Or worn period. There are plentiful, at least half of them. The other half have migrated to wherever it is kids' socks go. Thank goodness snow boots are  shoes AND socks in one great package.

 Shorts? Oh, he knows how to make shorts. He also has a t-shirt he made himself when the warm weather caught us by surprise. But he decided to wear his fancier one that day.
We got our books, pizza, and some treats and hid in the shade of a much-appreciated chestnut tree.
Then quickly hopped into the air-conditioned car. Where the kids reenacted  this scene from Eric the Viking. Please tell me this is how your kids get in that car too.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015


First, I need to mention that this post is sponsored. Sponsored by my mother-in-law who took the three middle kids over night. And to the beach. Fed them ice cream and treated them to a breakfast on the patio in the morning. And apparently took them shopping because I do not recognize Malachi's shirt here. Thank you. I'd also like to thank Fiona for taking a timely nap, right now, and my brother-in-law who is taking Cyril to some store to look for parts for the outboard motor he is refurbishing. So quite time = brain space and maybe a post. It also means I have only myself to blame if this all goes South. Or North, if you live in the southern hemisphere. Do they say that? I don't' know.
But to today's topic. I've always been, or thought of myself, or pretended to be a bit of a hacker. Not computer hacker. Although sometimes I can get mine to turn the screen a real pretty blue for a long time. I don't know how to make it go away so its kind of a one-way trick and not one that impresses anyone that needed to use said computer. Soon. But that is what Shane is for. Among other things.
No, I'm more of a life with kids hacker. And mostly out of necessity. Need to keep the kids in the yard? grab those garbage cans, your neighbors too, and a rope, maybe some plywood for good measure and you won't have to check on the kids for hours. Neighbors and spouse might not be thrilled, but  children make everything worthwhile. If you live in a neighborhood with and HOA, this one will not work. E-mail me for some other options. Or have your husband build a fence. Though using this  hack  has shown to have the added benefit of hastening things to that end. If a real fence is what you're after.
I get my skills from my dad. He can make pretty much anything out of anything else and has always been a bit of a visionary. Water conserving toilets? Saw it coming. He was putting bricks in the tanks of our toilets 30 years ago. Sure we had to flush an extra 5 times but that brick make all the difference on the water bill. Sometimes we would come up with workarounds to his hacks and then,
"Hey, who took the brick out of the toilet?!"
And reminding us with each flush.
"Hey!! Stop that. You know water doesn't grow on trees!!"
Also, if he says 'a real pretty blue' you can hear his light accent from growing up in Hungary. Maybe he was foretelling my future  of blue screens. Visionary, I tell you.
So now you know where I get it from. Though I don't do welding or build log cabins or plumbing or wiring and a host of other things Shane has implored me not to so while he's at work. I'm kind of limited to objects I can move myself and duct tape. Or  taping two objects I can move myself together. With duct tape.
But it has been a quiet time in project land for me lately so I was thrilled when I found a small project the other day which  allowed me  to learn some new skills as well.  Shane? Oh, he'll get over it.
We have been having some unusually nice weather here the past couple weeks. As in, I am wearing shorts. In June. In Seattle. This never happens. I'm thrilled. However, Kateri's window had somehow developed a tear in the screen so I told her to keep it closed to keep the bugs out. Which is impossible at night after and 80 degree day.

I know you can get new screens at the hardware store, but that requires a trip to the store, and  probably with multiple children so why not just fix it yourself?
My first thought was my old go-to, duct tape. But I must have been doing a lot of projects lately because we were out. Even the kids' fancy Christmas rolls of it were empty.
So I thought of other patching material we might have around the house. Or yard. I remembered the $.99 strainer I picked up at the thrift store for the kids outside play. It would be perfect!
 Now I just needed a way to attach it, without the help of my favorite tape. Then I remembered the dark grey speck of something someone had accidentally gotten on an often used light switch. Three months ago. That was some pretty strong stuff. And I knew where to go to get some. I called my supplier.
                                       "Cyril, will you go in the garage and get me some J.B.Weld?"

Cyril mixed it up for me and we played with some different patching layouts for a bit. Then smothered the weld on and put the hand-cut custom made patches on top. But first we put down a layer of aluminum foil (have you ever heard a British person say aluminum? Is sounds like it comes from  something magical. Like a unicorn or something. FYI IMHO). The foil kept the screen from fusing to the table and interfering with  future card games, drawing, or sewing projects which Kateri currently uses her workspace for. We are responsible workers.

Then, since the screen and the patch were bent in different directions, we decided to use some books we found on Kateri's shelf to weight them down while the patch dried. Which takes a few hours. But will last a lifetime. Just ask to see the light switch sometime. Also, make sure to put more foil on top of the patch or you will have a book blocking your view. For a lifetime.
The next day, we  trimmed the patch a little and replaced the screen and, Ta-Dahhhh!
No more bugs.
I called Shane in to witness our work. He outwardly pretended to be nonplussed. But really he was SO plussed he was speechless.
Its nice to be able to show him all the clever things he never dreamed about me doing when we got married. But now I can show him and he is so thankful and realizes what a true gem of a wife he has.
I told him I would do it differently if I had to do it again. Learn as you go and all that. Shane complained of a mosquito bite the other day and I found another rip in a screen in the kitchen.
But we'll just keep that one closed for now. For some reason I can't find the JB Weld.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Nani's MSBS

I never intended to take a long foray into medical blogging. Sorry if you are here looking for cute baby pictures. I hope this makes up for it. 

                                          She still really likes the fan. If she got her shoulder a little more exposed this could be a true 80s photo.

I promise to wrap it up soon, but fist a correction. The other day was INTERNATIONAL MS Awareness day. Not National. No idea how I got such an auspicious occasion pegged wrongly. Actually I have lots of ideas. They mostly start with "Mom!......" and end with "So what?"

Flippancy aside, I had considered this post's title as  a separate site to catalog some interesting things I've come across along the way to nowhere and which I might want to keep an eye on in the 'what is happening to my brain?' department. Along with some personal  updates for my records which are to date loosely kept in my head.  Which is not a super secure or reliably easy accessible location these days.

The latter reason I feel a bit funny about ( no one wants to hear about your hurty knee). But I've found over the years I appreciate learning  from other's experiences, research, experiments,  or mistakes. Why not add my own? And I'll promise to keep it clean, Though if you've read some of my kids' antics and you've come back, I think there is not much of a problem with what you can handle.

So first in the fascinating field of research, is this new discovery. Which could lead to new mechanisms for delivery and therapies for a host of diseases. Which is great news considering this study. Though technically previous studies would have put me firmly in the progressive and wheelchair bound camp  several years ago. So I take them all with a grain of  salt.

And when studies are given grants to study the prevalence of falls in the MS community, I kind of wonder about the seriousness of the researchers. Let's  take a group of people prone to balance issues, sensory issues, and feelings of not knowing where their limbs are in relation to anything else in the world and see if they fall down. A lot. Sounds like a prank more than a study. Wish I could get my hands on some grant money for a study or two. I'd find a way to work kiwi mojitos and white sand beaches into it for sure. And I would sacrifice myself for science and offer to be a guinea pig. (As the parameters of this study have not been set,  please do not send applications at this time. Donations? Why not?)

Its a fun game of extremes I often play. Something new will pop its head up and present  limitless rabbit holes of research and articles to follow. And for a second I feel a glimmer of, wait , what's that? Could it be, hope? And after weeks of excavating and spelunking I come up for air and realize, no. It was just the triple cream brie smooth talking, and now its gone. And all that's really left is a host of poisons that may or may not help me before they kill me. And the cheese rind.

But since we've come back to reality, we need groceries, and obviously more cheese. So then it's head down and back to the daily grind until the next shiny object  appears. Tune in next week for More of What Is Not Here That You Hoped Was and Most Likely Never Will Be. Amen.

Generally when I start these meandering journeys I  often get inspiration from Wheel Chair Kamikaze
Also when I come across something I don't quite understand, like most of it, I think 'I'll just wait until Mark explains it.' Sometimes it helps. Or I think it does and that's enough for me to go running to my neurologist asking for her thoughts secretly hoping it will earn me points in the 'sure her brain is atrophying, but she's still really sharp' department.  I don't know if it works or she silently adds points to my EDSS rating with each new discovery. Ignorance is bliss. I'm happy.

I am actually planning on picking her brain, ha ha, seems only fair, on the discovery of a  lymphatic network in the brain. Maybe she'll write back its old news, or junk news, or only pertains to mice and we're back to square one and mai tais.  Or maybe the discovery could shed light on how rogue immune cells get to the brain to attack the myelin. Not a porous blood brain barrier but a secret backdoor through the lymphatic system. But I still have my skepticism (I have  a lifetime supply) Are  the cells there to destroy the myelin, which has been the current thinking ,or to clean up what is already falling apart? Which has been bandied around for a little bit. But  since there is an Internet and no answer that has produced a cure, anything is  fair game in my book. Or blog.

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Did you know today is National MS Awareness Day?

Yeah. Me neither. No flowers or big delivery of any kind. We still get mail and Shane goes to work. Seems kind of pointless to me. Oh, and just for the record, last month was national MS awareness month. A whole month of  nothing special. While I'm on the topic, apparently the color code for MS is  ORANGE. Why not black? I look good in black. No one looks good in orange. I guess all the other colors got taken first. Its funny, to me, to color code maladies. I'm sure no one else wanted orange. Get a group of MS supporters wearing their snazzy shirts together for a barbeque and guess what it looks like?

Oh, Look! The convicts are here to clean the park! Come on kids, time to go home.

Fortunately, the news feed Shane set up for me to monitor mouse deaths (aka drug trials) alerted me to this important fact. So now I can.... do what I normally do every day.

Since we are on the topic, I had my meeting with Dr.S yesterday. I remembered most of the things I wanted to ask her about so that was a good start. I do have her email, in case I forget something, but have not gotten into habit of sending her links with a 'did you see this article?' attached. That might create a difficult line to walk between Dr/patient and victim/stalker. I would have so many questions.

First off, she has heard of Terry Wahl's and her diet. Like me, she is skeptical of one person's diet change becoming a cure. Going from wheel-chair bound to ambulatory would require  major nerve repair. As you age and/or disease progresses your body is less able to repair the damage and recoveries from relapses are less dramatic and just less in general. At least that is how the pathogenesis of MS has been observed so far. But since they do not know exactly why the damage happens in the first place, or the mechanisms by which they happen, I think there is room for lots of research and discoveries.

Just because something is not the result of a big expensive drug does not mean it didn't happen. So there is skepticism to be had all around. Most of the drugs out there are only about X% effective anyway for X% of patients (my statistic, so quote it loosely). Nothing has been found to reliably  make a huge impact on a huge number of people yet. So they just keep coming up with new expensive drugs to treat, or kill a few, patients.

We discussed my particular state and what might be helpful. She did not give me a 'free massages for life' gift card, but she did recommend seeing one of the therapists there to  help think through what lifestyle changes might be beneficial. So I might have another chance of winning a gift card.

I asked again about the exercise/gimpy legs correlation vs causation vs  whatever. She said it was just time. I was due for it.  Which would be great if I had a calendar and could plan. Wine tasting? Oh wait, my tongue is due to be numb that week. (That did happen and was one of the funkier episodes I've experienced) She said if there is a worsening that can be recovered from in an hour of quiet time, the activity is fine to do. If it takes a day or more, I might want to rethink what/how I'm doing things.

An hour of quiet time? I told her that sounded heavenly. Along with impossible.

Make breakfast: rest an hour
Garden: rest an hour.
Make lunch: rest an hour
Costco shopping: rest an hour.
Make dinner: rest an hour.

It probably didn't help that the night before my appointment Malachi was up and restless from 2am-7:30am and the whole house was woken up to smoke alarms going off when Kateri made hashbrowns for him at 5:40. Including Fiona, who then refused to nap until I got home from my appointment at 12:00. So lots of opportunities for quiet restful time in a day. Obviously.

I brought up all the new 'breakthrough research' reported in the headlines in the past couple months. Again, it was, 'Its all very interesting. We'll see how things go from here. It really comes down to trials and results. With humans. And years, and more years of trials.'

I brought up the micro biome, or whatever its called, research being done and it is still 'we're not really sure, but we're looking into it.' There is one trial specifically focusing on it, but it requires being on a particular drug, Tecfidera, which in addition to helping drugs get across the blood brain barrier, also allows non-drugs and potentially fatal particles to get to the brain. So not super exciting. Given that Fiona is still nursing Dr. S would not, nor would I ,be comfortable with any of the 2nd line drugs, which mess with the blood brain barrier and cross into breast milk. So it would be back to the older 1st line drugs. Meaning needles. Lots of needles. And scar tissue. And I'm not sure I could even get a needle in anywhere anymore due to said scar tissue. If I knew it might help, I might try and work them in, but after flunking the last two I'm not so certain they are worth it.

For now we decided to wait another 6 months, then regroup and see where Fiona is on the nursing timeline and I'll keep studying up on the  therapies she would recommend Tysabri, Gilenya, or Tecfidera. I don't know why she kept leaving out massages, like it wasn't even an option. I think I might just go to Canada and get one. I hear you don't even need a prescription up there.

So there it is. Just in time for National MS Awareness Day. Now you are painfully aware how difficult getting  a massage out of your neurologist really is. Thankfully, Shane is not a neurologist.

Monday, May 25, 2015

Down The Rabbit Holes

Warning: If you do not or have not dealt extensively with small children or are currently soon to be  embarking on said dealings,  move on. This post is probably not for you. If you have a sensitive stomach this post is not for you. If you have no interest in reading somewhat useless ramblings about trials, sciency things, and other peoples' (ok, my) current obsessions, you know what to do. Anyone? Bueller? Now that we've whittled down to a brave few, or none, here we go.

The first rabbit hole is actually a heating vent.

Malachi is still toilet "training". By training I mean he does what and where he wants and everyone else dons hazmat gear and tries to keep it together while cleaning up. So far everyone is responding well to the training.  If by cleaning up I meant grabbing some paper towels and lysol spray it would not be so unusual and certainly not worthy of a blog mention. Sadly, that is not the case.

He pretty much gets the brain-body-'ta-da' connection of things. So he's not clueless. Just gross. He mostly does not use the toilet for any other purpose than making fascinating toilet paper swirlys.  He is content with a diaper, which is fine with me. Except when he decides to empty the contents of the diaper himself. Which to him means removing the diaper and shaking its contents down an open heat register.  Why a heat register? I have no freaking idea. Kids are just gross and grosser still, and I probably looked bored so he prepped a little activity for me while I got Fiona to sleep or was contemplating a coffee or a shower or anything else that I would rather be doing. Instead of playing  'let's go fish for feces'.  I am so tired of that game. Just to set the record straight, he does not get rewarded for his antics. I don't know what he does get out of it unless there is some sense of self mastery in it. Why can't self mastery manifest in ways that result in oh, you know, USING A TOILET! Or tying a shoe. Even writing ABC on a piece of furniture. Why this?

 His favorite vent has a steep slope and a sharp turn, making retrieval of stuff, difficult and painful. And there  is this  natural instinct that won't let you just go whole hog in grabbing a rolling poo ball. But gentle feeling around can often result in pushing things farther. And that is one phone call I do not want to make to the heating company. I don't know why this is still a problem after six kids. It never gets easier. Routine, yes. Easier, no.

    Once we discover and 'event' I assign someone to dispose of the diaper and someone to keep the babies from the site while I suit up. Usually the kids will offer moral support and help in the form of huddling around saying 'ooh gross!' as I put my arm up to my armpit into the hole. And then if Shane is having a hard day I'll text him and say at least he was not getting this out of a vent. (Anything to elicit a sympathy foot rub) Don't worry, I won't show you. That's disgusting and would get me kicked off the internet. The Elders have their standards. Hopefully the NSA likes the texts. Or not. Serves them right.

But there is an end in sight. Summer is coming and he can run Lord of the Flies in the back yard. And on the off chance he might need just a little extra encouraging on chillier days, we ordered him this. As of yet it has not encouraged him to make dramatic changes to his toileting routines. I'm considering maybe adding some cute big boy undies but I'm not sure I want the extra laundry just yet.

On to a different dig site.

I have a neurologist appointment this week and have been gearing up by compiling a list of 20,000 questions. For an update- a little more feeling has returned to my feet.  So that is cool. The stiffness comes and goes and my legs get heavier with every stair until I've got 25lb weights on my ankles at the end of the flight. I have not ventured back to the elliptical but exercise is definitely one topic I'll bring up.

In my in depth research I did come across this gem. I can't wait until they offer weekly massages for everyone. That would certainly improve anyone's quality of life, or just general mood. A couple years back massage therapy was highlighted at an MS talk I went to, as the most beneficial alternative therapy out there. But that was all I ever heard. Nothing about replacing your $50,000 a year injectable medication with weekly massages.

When you start looking into new research, I think in any medical disease,  it appears they are always on the cusp of discovering a cure for XYand Z. Or getting closer to discovering the cause of AB and C. Seriously. Try it.

'Zebra fish help shed light on  mechanism of re-mylenation. May open door to new therapeutics.'

2 years later.

'7the grader with a microscope in her garage discovers cure!'

3 years later.

'Researchers  reverse paralysis in  mice with secret compound.'

As one neurologist said, "Its a great time to have MS."  If you're a mouse. Person, not so much.

Another interesting study was done  on Biotin, or B7, or vitamin H, and a few other names. Just to make looking things up more fun.

My favorite one of late is this one. Can't  wait to order my own cocktail some day.

"I'll have an antifungal, with a steroid. Neat."

At least the drugs in the last study are already existing compounds. So that should help speed things up. By about 20 years or so.

Ok. So I'm a little jaded when it comes to medical research actually coming up with new and helpful innovations. In a timely fashion. But when time=progression=sucky, time is of the essence. And time marches, or limps, on.

 I will bring up all these studies, and more, to my neurologist. And then I'll schedule a massage.

Friday, May 1, 2015

Hooray! Age of Ultron is out! I'm so excited!

I will eventually see the movie too. Right now I'm excited because Shane called and said he'd like to take the big kids tonight. I said cool. How about a showing after the babies go to bed?

So they hung around until Malachi was in bed. I got Fi down. And now the house is eerily quiet. With the exception of the baby monitor and the new fan I bought. If it's too quiet I can't sleep so now all my kids are white-noise-addicts. Which works really well for babies with siblings who need to nap.

                                                  Fiona especially likes that she can push the power button herself.

At first I didn't know what to do. I originally planned on folding the mound of clean laundry trying to overtake our bedroom. And the kitchen floor could use a good mopping sans baby feet running through leaving prints.

Then I remembered a piece of ancient advice I heard as a new mother.

Remember to make some time for yourself.

Which is really the most ridiculous thing and really just means 'think of all things you won't be able to do for the next 18 years, or maybe ever.' Hello postpartum depression.

Thankfully I am now a new mother any more. In so may ways. So I could actually take the advice. I turned on the hot water, laid out my jammies, and took a hot shower. And then all I could think about was the scene in Psycho.  One down side to the sound muffling fan is that is also warps sounds.

Is that the baby? Did someone just knock? Who would call this late at night?

But before the hot water even thought about running out I was able to talk myself out of it and actually enjoy the foamy solitude. With my pink scrubby sponge. Not the same one I bought when I first tried to follow the same advice before Fiona was born. I knew what the new baby stage entailed so to psych myself up I went out and splurged on a $.99 body scrubby thing. I figured if I could make my shower a little more luxurious maybe I wouldn't mind so much the 50,000 other things I couldn't enjoy. I even got some relaxing shower gel. So for  $8 I could get a tiny spa experience every morning. Or once a week in the really early baby phase.

Then one morning it came to an end. I saw Shane in the shower and he picked up the scrubby off the shelf and rubbed a spot on the floor.

Horrified, I asked what he was doing.

"Oh, there was just something funky  so I thought I clean it."

"Umm. That's not a cleaning scrubby. It's a body scrubby.  You just cleaned something funky with the sponge I use to clean me ."

"Oh,  I thought it was for cleaning the shower. That's what I use for all the time."

"Well that is what it is for now!" and now the scrubby resides on the shower floor.

I went out and bought a new one. This one was more expensive ( $1.50) and had a little rubber suction cup on it. I showed it to Shane and told him this one is for me, not the floor. It was a preacher shade of pink, not sure how much that matters as he is a little color blind, but I thought color-coding might have positive outcome. He said fine but to keep it off the glass door where it would be too prominent and he might forget what it was supposed to be used for. Well the rubber suctiony thing does not like the tile walls and will only adhere to the glass door.
Which I explained to Shane and so far he's been able to resist the temptation to scrub the shower in the mornings. I did put an actual cleaning sponge on the shelf for him,  just in case. So far its working.

Speaking of "Me time", I  did schedule an outing for myself. To the dentist. I did try the hair salon first, but they were booked both attempts I made. So I was left with the dentist if I wanted some quiet time. I felt so stoked about it and actually wore jeans for the first time in I don't even know. I thought of wearing earrings but felt the pants were fancy enough and I didn't want the new dentist to think I got dressed up. Just to get my teeth cleaned. Which I did. She didn't seem to notice. Shane did, and told me I looked cute. Twice, before he left to work.

It  might finally be the time to get my old wardrobe out, if its not too outdated, and join the rest of the world in doing all the things I haven't' for the past three years. Maybe I can get a new outfit and Shane can take me to the movie. And buy me a new body sponge.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Life Rhythms

Which at the moment are definitely on the discordant and not super rhythmic side of the page. If my life was a piece of music it would a Bartok or Shostakovich, neither of which are my favorites. I'm waiting to get to some Dvorak or Smetana. But I guess we have to get through the opening pieces first to get to the good stuff. Which always really annoyed me at concerts. I came for the Beethoven, I don't want to hear a piece by a still-wet-behind-the-ears composer who doesn't like to match any two notes with anything else and makes me feel like a badly and hastily shaken martini.

In the mean time, we are at least cobbling together our version of not-too-crazy-any-more-at-least-for-this-second. Which has been mostly due to the babies sleeping when normal people sleep. Not swing shift and graveyard workers. Which has added a lot less crazy-zombie to our waking hours.

Not that it is new news, but our kids have been ridiculous sleepers. All of them. No on has napped past 2 years of age. All of them preferred really late naps resulting in really late bedtimes. As I was also pregnant for most of their toddler years I was just glad to get any break ever and let the funky sleep cycles play out every day. Which in turn made for more of them. If there was ever a pattern interrupter, it was a stomach flu or cold which left ever more ridiculous habits in its wake. Along with a boatload of dirty laundry.

To be fair, to me, because it's my blog, growing up we had some pretty weird routines of our own, necessitated by my dad's work hours. The years he worked 1st watch, my mom would keep us all up late so we would sleep in and stay quiet so dad could sleep. After that it didn't matter when he worked. We were sticking with the first schedule. As all of our kids have tried to do as well.

Over a family vacation of miserable sleep I finally got desperate and ordered this book.

I don't care for the cry-it-out method so it seemed a safe bet. I really liked the book, especially the part where she admits if she knew it was her last baby she would totally enjoy it and let the baby nap in her arms and everything else a sleep trainer would be horrified by. I feel a little late to the party, not trying to sort thing out until Baby #6, but better late than never. I ordered several other sleep books though. Some more on the science side.  I thought the information he presented was fine. All 50 times  it was re packaged and represented. Maybe because it was written by a  man I didn't feel like it spoke to the mom in me. So in the end most of what we employed was from Pantley's book and most nights things have gone well. Of course it helps that Fiona is over a year now. And that Cyril can get Malachi to bed. I am curious how things would have played out had I had my act together and started  routines earlier. A lot better I am sure. But we are where we are because we were lazy. I mean I was lazy. (Shane would still get up early and go to work.)Hopefully there is time to remedy the rest of the family so they can learn to operate on better schedules and we can break the generational sleep dysfunction gift. Which it really is/was.

Thinking back over it gives me the heebie-jeebies. I am so grateful to not be in new baby sleep absolutely no rhythm phase of life right now. Even thinking about writing Fiona's birth story takes me too close to insanity days than I care to get right now. But I will someday. But today is not that day. Especially since Fiona got up before 6 and now is napping which will throw off her later nap and I'll have to keep it short so we can still have a decent bedtime because Shane needs to get to bed so he can get up early to ride his bike in to work. Again.

Biking in has turned into a very doable rhythm, at least in the drier, if you can call 'well, at least its not flooding' drier. Which we do. Shane gets to fit exercise into his crazy-busy days and avoid nasty car commutes. Biking only takes about as long as it might driving in at the same time so it's a win-win. Luckily he can drive to the start of the trail down the hill and then its trail all the way there with a nice shower at the end. So no biking next to cars, which I really like.

 Fiona got wind of the early departure and has gotten up to farewell the troops the past two mornings. Which requires her to get up before 6am! But an 8:00 bedtime is totally worth playing for so I'll just enjoy the single-child mornings and try to get a little housework done. Which is next on my rhythms that need much more improvement list.

"See, I'm really helpful to have around at ungodly hours."
Actually, this wasn't that early. It was the weekend and she was helping Shane make me a latte. But it was too cute to not include. Hope your sleep is normal and restful. Like this.