Two, and three.

As I've mentioned before, the Orclette cried the first 3-4 months of her life. And right now I'd describe her as "strong-willed," "determined," "pushes boundaries." And so on. And at the same time she's usually cheerful and adorable. Which was done on purpose by God, I'm sure, because otherwise she'd have been shipped off to grandma's house by now :D (a threat my mom used on us for years. It worked: at Grandma's house we had to help muck out the horse stalls ;) And nowadays I read several "mommy" blogs. And I am not being critical. But they'll describe their mornings and they'll mention dealing with all of it before coffee. Because of crying children. And that's one of the worst (i.e. heartbreaking) sounds in the world (unless you are the Orclette and 2 1/2. You can wait). You want to stop the crying, fulfill whatever it is they need. But that's where I thank the Orclette. I could not stop her crying (...

Some days the world crashes down on you and you're able to do nothing else but keep your head out of the deluge gasping for breath. That was yesterday. I had been experiencing some health issues that coalesced and started MAJOR SCARY THOUGHTS in my head Sunday/Sunday night. Monday morning I was like a zombie from a combination of symptoms/stress/plain tuckered-outness. So I call the doctor and they don't have room for me. Just loverly. Then Damm calls and says that he doesn't have a PT test on file which means he can't graduate which means he'll be home later than we had expected. Then I drove to m-i-l's choir performance and really scared myself with how out of it I was and how I probably shouldn't have been driving (this actually happened before Damm called but whatever). Then things started looking up. Doctor's office called to tell me they could squeeze me in. Male doctor though. I don't like going to male doctors. He tells me that nothing is ser...

But not wanting to talk. Wishing Wulfa was near a computer so we could cheerfully type at each other. Anyone else ever wished that someone would type with them but not that anyone would -talk- to them?

Today is Sunday. Incase you didn't know. I'm pondering all sorts of things. On my life here: I failed at drawing for an hour every day this week because Thurs and Friday were full of "GAAAH WE MIGHT HAVE TO MOVE AND IF EVERYTHING ISN'T CLEAN FOR AN INSPECTION IN 30 MIN THE WORLD WILL END FOR US". ... The inspections never happened. The move never happened. That didn't stop this from repeating every hour and a half those days. The one thing good out of it is I've now reached that level of not caring where you look at the newsbringer and just shrug and state that when a sargent comes up to your room to tell you to move or to clean it you will but not until then. This is a new state of being for me. I'm that nervous guy who knows all the rules and is always trying to do them. And it feels so odd to honestly no longer care. I'm not showing a lack of respect for the Sargeants I'm just not moving a finger for a private who swears he heard it s...