Dropped

I seem to have lots of proverbial balls in the air at the moment, what with the job and the veteran kid and the newbie and our finances and the Shred and the 5K and the blog and so on and so forth and when one of those balls needs a little more of my focus because of teething or growth spurting or developmental milestone achieving or just general all day malcontentedness or God knows what, it’s like a 13-pound bowling ball suddenly got tossed into the mix and I had only gotten far enough to master scarf juggling.

Rosie has been more hands on than usual for the past few days (I KNEW that as soon as I declared it her “once-a-month” fussy period that no amount of wood knocking would change the swiftness with which the universe would alter to prove my naivete) and I have had time to do little else than walk around one-handing the most essential tasks while attempting to soothe The Beast that is Roaring Rosie.  And while it’s nice that she is not crying, it’s still LOTS OF NOISE ALL UP IN MY EARS, you know?  And it’s clear that she is not comfortable, no matter how cute her crazy gutteral noises are.  The river of drool and frantic knuckle gnawing make me suspect early teething, but for all I know she is half-werewolf and the full moon is nigh.  Babies are a mystery.

All of this blather is to say that posting may be spotty this week, although the growling sessions have begun to wane (PRAISE JEEBUS).  But until her teeth start to chill out a little or she outgrows the yelling most of my mental capacity will be dedicated to 1. QUIET THE BABY and 2. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE QUIET THE BABY.

Then once I regrow my tympanic membranes, I’ll be back to the juggle.