7.05.2006

Want. Sleep.

My parents are here. They are being very helpful. I am exhausted. We have made dinner for them or taken them to a party or hosted a dinner with relatives or afternoon with friends every single of the past five days. Fun, but no time for me or Seymour to recharge because they are here all day and our two youngest are not sleeping at night.

My dad took a year's worth of styrofoam and cardboard to the recycling station. He loves being given a mission, as he gets very restless when away from his home and routine. You've no idea what a kind, wonderful man he is.

My mom has taken on the past year's mending! Some things have already been outgrown, but tomorrow Leelo will be wearing a great tie-dye shirt that he only sported once before some silly person pinned a name tag on its front. The name tag was soon gone, and replaced with a big hole. It is now covered up. All this and constant dish washing and floor sweeping and bed making even though she herself is very tired from the never-ending visitors stream that pours through her house near the beach in San Diego.

As mentioned, Mali and Leelo have been refusing to sleep. Mali has stayed up until 12:30 AM for the past two evenings. Last night Seymour suggested that I drink a shot of hooch to help mellow her out, so I made myself a midnight mai tai. Which, after the the subsequent unsuccessful nursing-to-sleep session (the evening's sixth), resulted in a very happy insomniac baby.

Today Mali is a nutty baby. Totally crazy with the language and imitation and reactions, standing at the top of the stairs and chattering at us like a crazy monkey, as though we understand what she is saying with her big grins and whoops and gesticulations. Tonight she was singing the words and doing the moves for some "shake your booty" song that Iz learned at camp ("Ah, there's money well spent").

Leelo was a sweetie today. He had his protest moments, but I think they were due to his being absolutely exhausted from swimming with Seymour all yesterday afternoon, but then not getting enough sleep last night. Other than that he kept asking for my parents, going up to them and giving them hugs, telling them who they were (in case they'd forgotten--they are getting on), and telling my dad that his arm belongs to him. "It's Grandpa's arm!"

My toe, which I cracked backwards on a brick walkway yesterday, is absolutely turgid and purple. It is as fascinating as it is painful. My mom (ER nurse) and I agree that it is not broken. I remain grateful that it is summer and I can wear flip flops all day long, as closed-toe shoes would be excruciating.

Seymour and Iz's annual batch of wild-caught anise swallowtail caterpillars have transformed into pupae. We watched the whole process. Iz has the first one's final shed caterpillar skin in a tiny clear-lidded container. She now talks of being an entomologist.

Good night. It is 11 PM and I am going to make an attempt to put Mali down for the night.

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