What a Week of Mishaps!

I am so glad this week is over. It just seems like it's been one thing after another after another. (I feel like I say that a lot. But I mean it this time!)

First there was Wednesday night. I decided once and for all that Fynn was going to sleep through the night, darn it, and nothing was going to tempt me to pick him up. So he cried. And cried. And cried some more. Two hours. I would go in periodically and rub his back and love on him, but then I'd leave and he'd cry like I'd shot his puppy. But then, suddenly, complete and utter silence. So suddenly it actually scared me a little. But I went and peeped at him, and he was asleep. In the five days since then, he has only awakened once after I put him to sleep. So while it was torture to listen to him cry, it's all going to be better in the long run. This was the same night as the aforementioned rabbit cage fiasco, which occurred at 1:27 a.m., just a half hour after I was finally able to doze off.

Wednesday or Thursday, Ewan spilled a huge glass of milk all over the couch in our kitchen. I love that couch. It's the most lovely kind of tacky hot pink and white wedding ring pattern, with the camel back. You can see it a little in the sidebar picture of Bryce and the boys. But, even though I totally love it, I am so sick of stuff spilling on it, and not being able to clean it properly, and having to sweep under it, and having toys get lost underneath all the time. So I said, "That's it, I'm done." (Bryce says I say that a lot.) And I hauled it out in the garage myself. I had hoped to keep it and someday reupholster it with new fabric as tacky or tackier as what's on it now, but someday I'll just get a new couch.

Thursday night, still recovering from major sleep deprivation, I went to bed semi-early only to be awakened at 2:30 a.m. by a series of rapid-fire gunshots, two bursts of about six or seven each, and the sound of screeching tires. I peeked out the window, didn't see anything, but had to wake up Bryce for the "should I call 911?" debate. I ultimately decided to call, and in the middle of our conversation, the dispatcher said, "It looks like you are right about where it was at..." Um..."Where WHAT was at?????" I never found out exactly. Good times.

Friday morning, as I was feeding the rabbit, I picked up the bag of rabbit food, which consists of gazillions of teeny, tiny little pellets. Yeah, I picked it up from the wrong end. And it was open. And this was in my bedroom. Which would have been fine, since we have hardwood floors and I would have been able to just sweep them up, if not for the fact that I recently put a rug in there, which is anchored under the bed and impossible to pick up without some major help. So I had to put my hungry baby in his crib while he cried and tried to vacuum it up. In order to not give the rabbit a heart attack, I wheeled the cage into Fynn's room next to his crib, but far enough away that he couldn't touch, just watch. Then the vacuum clogged. After finally getting it all sorted out, I discovered Ewan had pushed the rabbit cage right up against the crib and my Fynn was eating timothy grass.

There's even more, but I won't dwell on that. I'll dwell on the fact that it also was a week of friends, with Ewan's buddies Natalie and Bella and William coming to visit. I took pictures, although I unfortunately forgot to take one while Natalie was here. Ewan had a lot of fun, and it's so nice to see him interacting with other children.

Vanessa's son, William with Ewan.

Bella and her boyfriend Fynn.