Wiped

It has been awhile since I last posted here, and not for a lack of things to talk about. Oliver ran the New York marathon. Visitors came to town. I headed out of town for a weekend, sans Oliver and Nils. 

Nils started crawling:

He was the world's cutest, sweetest shark for Halloween.

I'm just beat, that's all. Looking at this last picture made me realize it - good lord I look tired. Look at those eyes. And that was a day I felt pretty awake, too. Go figure. It's a combination of the things you would expect. Nils moves around now and is therefore harder to keep track of. The days are getting shorter - aren't we all a little less energetic than we were when the sun set at 8:30? He's been doing a sleep regression thing for an embarrassingly long time, which means I've been up at midnight, at 3, again at 5:30, then finally at 7, just about every night for weeks. And every time I say to him "all right kiddo, tomorrow we start sleep training," he goes and gets a cold, cuts a tooth, etc. And then I totally lose the heart to "set him straight."

And when he goes down for the night, giving me sweet, sweet time to myself, I look longingly at the laptop. Or more accurately, look longingly for the laptop. My apartment looks terrible. Would you believe me if I told you this photo was taken just after I had spent most of my weekend cleaning? No time for blogging! Good lord woman, get your home in order.

The funny thing is, this photo also perfectly reflects what my mind feels like. It's messy and a little chaotic, and no matter how many loads of mental laundry I throw at the symbolic washing machine there still seem to be piles of dirty onesies following me around. And Nils manages to get into my purse. 

I wouldn't change any of it though, not for anything. Actually no, that's not true. I would get him to sleep through the night. But that will come soon enough. (Once he gets over this latest cold.) And then I will still chase him around all day, hovering close enough to grab him just before he loses his footing and knocks his head on the coffee table. I will still dream of prune-stained sleepers. I will probably still need that afternoon coffee. It's all good.