I don't want to come off as a braggart or anything, but I must let you all know that my baby slept a big 4 HOURS last night! You may think I'm being sarcastic, but I'm honestly thrilled. He hasn't slept this many hours in a row since he was a sleepy little underweight newborn. I haven't been very enthusiastic about this aspect of my life lately; getting him off his vacation sleeping habits has been a titanic struggle. And as the Boy's mother pointed out this weekend, Pixie slept through the night before the Boy did. Still, it seems that we've once again clawed our way back from the precipice of total nighttime chaos.

One more hour & you'll be sleeping the night, Blakedor! And then – we all will!

Today was a particularly productive day, which is odd, as I didn't get out of bed until 11. (Ahhh...the luxuries of being ill.) In the day I had left, I managed to eat lunch, shower, change the baby, do a load of laundry, head out to Mother Goose, take a walk in downtown B-ton, mail 2 packages & make a creamy comforting casserole for my sick parents & my sick self. Yep, for me, that's an excellent day.

It was the laundry that took the most mental energy. My parents recently installed a retractable clothesline in their backyard. This sounds really weird, but I love that clothesline. In our old house we used to have a permanent line in a far corner of the backyard. It was like a big square sail-less umbrella, and I have many memories of playing under the hanging clothes. Now that I do laundry everyday (cough*cough), okay, now that I should do laundry everyday, I'm getting really into the whole zen of laundry. But since I'm kind of scatterbrained & apt to forget a load in the machine for more than a day, the introduction of the clothesline adds an interesting element of time-management into the task. Not only do I have to wash the load, but I have to wash the load early in the day so that it'll have a chance to dry. And I have to take it in before night, just in case it rains. (Does anyone else have a mom who insists on this?)

Today I had it all going on. I finished my breakfast, grabbed a cranky Blake from the playpen & fired him downstairs. While I loaded the machine with his clothes, he amused himself by climbing all six stairs between himself & me. I was agog when his little round melonhead poked around the corner, a big smile of achievement splitting his face. Clearly, this was no baby to be plunked in a playpen & told to amuse himself. This was a baby who should – nay, must! – be encouraged to explore his surroundings.

I still don't think it was a mistake to take him with me when I went out to hang the clothes. The mistake lay in thinking that he'd automatically head for the pool and my job lay in blocking his path toward a watery death. In fact he was far more interested in scaling the wooden deck stairs, and then in using a handy footrest as a walker. Twice I rushed up to stop him from merrily walking over the edge of the deck. Twice I had to sweep out his mouth when he ate a large quantity of dirt & then tried to eat a really big dried woody leaf. And then he finally tried to crawl into the pool.

It was a harrowing experience all round. But his wee clothes are clean & dry & folded. Zen, I tell you. Zen.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 8/16/2004 10:13:00 p.m.