In case I wasn't clear in my last post, my life got a lot harder and busier in the past few weeks. Now that the Boy is working the graveyard shift, I am on 24 hours a day. I get Blake ready in the morning, making sure that he is dressed and clean when I leave so that no one has to go into our bedroom where the Boy remains asleep. When I come home from work, I'm on until Blake deigns to fall asleep, which has on occasion taken the entire night. Man, there's nothing like a 3-hour extendo-bedtime.

I do my lesson prep & marking at school. Anything I absolutely must do at home I do in the 10 minutes I get in the morning after my shower, before I'm expected to dress the Blake. There's nothing like writing a handout at 7:15, when you really should be on your way to work. And nothing like the moment you're finally ready to go, when your unrepentantly untoilet-trained son poops his diaper; the cleanup of which the babysitter (i.e. my dad) refuses to assume. Good times.

Have I mentioned that I have no time to do anything anymore? Gah.

As a direct result, several things have happened that have gone unrecorded. (Not to mention St. Stephen's wedding, the narrative of which exists in point-form notes I made during a silent-reading session.) For one thing, I had a mellow and uneventful Thanksgiving weekend. Although it was crammed with meetings, food and Blake-style mischievousness, I was serene and happy. New Boy, a new version of the Boy he has developed for public display, was a big help. New Boy is considerate and mindful of his surroundings. New Boy doesn't let me handle Blake for hours while New Boy expounds upon his elaborate opinions regarding books, movies and current events. I like New Boy a lot - he's almost exactly like the Boy I see in private. The Boy I don't have to share.

This week has been the usual muddle of post-long-weekend weariness. I've been trying to keep on top of things at Bat Masterson because the last thing I want is to turn this highschool into Hogsboro, where no one trusted me as an educator and no one thought of me as useful, competent or even of moderate intelligence. I also haven't screwed up social relations among the staff yet, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll still feel good about my reputation at the close of the (week, month, semester,) year.

I talked to Pixie today, and she told me how good it was to read some happy entries. Yeah. I go a long time between those, don't I?

Last night I attended another meeting of the Drunker Knitters Guild (new motto: Tonight we knit; tomorrow we rip!) I was the social butterfly of the night, flitting between seats and knitting other projects with abandon. I couldn't tear myself away; although I knew I'd be on the hook in the morning thanks to the Shitty Warehouse Job, I was continually reabsorbed into fascinating conversations. And of course, other people's projects. It all started so innocently, when I tired of Accordion and asked Sandi if I could knit on her tit-bit. She graciously agreed, and I was off on my promiscuous rounds.

At around 11, Sophia walked up to me working away on Jean-Anne's baby blanket.

"Aleta, are you knitting another project?"

That was when she gave me the prestigious Yarn Ho button. I couldn't be more honoured.

I got to tell the skirt story more times than I really should have, and Sandi gave me the perfect idea: get a skirt with a big logo over the ass that says "Is This Thing On?" This is so perfect for so many reasons (even if she is the Bad Advice Friend.)

And now, the sleeping. Tomorrow is another huge round of church (original flavour), church (Roman baptism), and a long afternoon with a bouncy castle. Somewhere in there I have to finish the pants I started more than 6 months ago, so I can give them to the baptisee. (The saved?) And I need a length of elastic. This is not going to be fun.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 10/14/2006 07:00:00 p.m.