I Am Tired, Iz Is Wired

Not posting much lately because Therapist F (mornings) is on vacation for two weeks and Therapist L (afternoons) had to cancel yesterday. That plus two dinner parties at our house in three days (much fun, not complaining), being one week away from my third trimester and entering the "oof, grunt" stage of pregnancy, and an icky attack of back pain/sciatica last night means I've been grumpy, tired, and uncommunicative. Especially since I forgot to ask Seymour to rearrange all the furniture so that our living room can revert to Therapy status (it is currently in Party mode). Maybe I can harness the cats.

Iz is on fire today, because she's going to go get her first ever manicure this afternoon. Now, clean that coffee spray off your monitor and let me explain why I am letting a five-year-old girl get her nails done: The allure of a manicure has gotten her to stop chewing her nails to bloody quicks, cold.

Once I explained that she couldn't wear nail polish if she bit her nails because it was poisonous if she chewed it off, that I couldn't put nail polish on her anyway because I am pregnant, and that she couldn't go have someone else do it until she had nails capable of being trimmed, she stopped. I didn't even have to remind her: she kept showing me how "long" her nails were getting. The local shop charges $10, so I figure that's equal to or cheaper than any other commercial solution.

Although this means she has redoubled her toenail chewing efforts. Ewwww.