12 days…

That’s all we have left in LA.  Can you believe it?  (I hardly can!)  I was driving up the road to errands this afternoon, and was passing all the palm trees, the blistering sun beating down upon my forearms, and I thought, with all sincerity:

 

GOOD RIDDANCE.

 

It’s been nice to visit, and I’m glad that lots of people who enjoy this place have the opportunity to live here.   But LA isn’t for me.  I miss the rolling hills and snowy winters and cloudy days and verdancy of the Midwest.  I can’t wait to be back!  12 days…

 

Speaking of!  On Friday afternoon Jeff left on a house-hunting and other-clerk-networking-with (ssh) mission in Akron.  He had moderate success on both counts.  We’ve put in an application on a house in Highland Square that is, in Jeff’s words, “OK”.  The existence of these things:

have, once again, made finding accommodations difficult.  Add to it our requirement to be close to transit (one car, you know), and a strong desire not to live in the ghetto, and, well…our parameters were rather tight.

 

So keep your fingers crossed that this place accepts our application, OK?  Because otherwise we’ll be stuck leasing something sight-unseen, which is not exactly my idea of a thrilling prospect.

 

Simon did the weirdest thing on Friday night while I was writing that smartass post.  When he hadn’t woken up from his nap by about 6:00, I went and got him.  I brought him into the living room and boobed him, and he went right back to sleep (that bit isn’t too weird).  He slept on my lap for a while longer, and then I tried to wake him, so he wouldn’t be up all night.  He was really reluctant to wake, so I left him sleep.  After a while, I got a crazy idea:  what if that 4:30 naptime was bedtime?!  (I know, I know).  So I suuuuuuper stealthily changed him – first time I’ve ever managed that without waking him up – and then boobed him into a deep sleep on the bed.  Transfer to the co-sleeper, sneak away, and….I was free!

 

Now, mock me if you will, but it was actually a little bit lonely.  Friday evening stretched ahead of me, with my love 2,500 miles away and my baby sleeping in the other room.   I was kinda sad.

 

But just for a minute.  Then this happened:

Only it was a nice pot of rainforest mate tea, cross-stitching, and Ken Burns documentaries on Netflix.  Practically the same thing.

 

Simon slept until 7:30 the next morning, waking up only occasionally to boob.  15 more-or-less consecutive hours.  Whose child is this?

 

The rest of the weekend disappeared as weekends tend to do (albeit with a more-than-ideal amount of packing), culminating with another trip to LAX on Sunday afternoon to retrieve our family’s esteemed patriarch.  We laid low last night and this morning (well, Jeff’s off at work training his replacement, but you know what I mean), ran some errands this afternoon that are so boring I won’t even list them, and now here we are.  Before Jeff gets home I need to whip up some bran muffins (I’m thinkin’ blueberry, with streusel topping) and get dinner started (spaghetti, chicken sausage, sauteed zucchini and Cesar salad).  I’d also like to finish packing up the living room, but that may be too optimistic.

 

It’s hard.  He’s quite busy, you see.

I know the feel.  Nothing like packing up all your books to make you want to curl up and read one (or ten)!

Say, who wants to come babysit Simon for the next week and a half so I can  read in my comfy chair get my work done? 😀

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