no boobs for you!

i had big plans for the posting tonight. big ones! i haven't posted in a couple of days, and i was all set to make up for it. i was going to write about baseball! and boobs! and food! like some kind of a perfect male fantasy, it was going to be!

but then i got hit with a big, nasty, shit-ass mood. there's no good reason for it. oh, sure i'm tired. but who isn't, really. and let's see, what else? well, i wanted to go down into the basement and get some of my musical soundtrack cassettes (yes, broadway musical. i was a huge theater geek in high school. shut up. i was also a cheerleader for 2 years. double shut up), but i couldn't becasue i saw the commercial for saw 2 last night and the thought of going down into a dark basement when i'm in the house by myself is turning my stomach into hot churning volcanic acid and making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. stupid saw 2. stupid halloween-scary-movie season. depriving me of singing along to falsettos or into the woods, which would have improved my mood greatly. but nooooooo.

and oh, right, the little man only slept for 2-1/2 hours, followed by a really awesome 20-minute stretch. and stephen is out, so i had to go deal with him. but honestly, did i think that the sleeping for 8 hours was going to be a permanent thing? no. okay, so, yes, i hoped that it would, and possibly deluded myself that it might, so, yes, maybe i was a little frustrated when his dulcet tones came over the monitor at ten goddamn thirty. but really, after all these months of poor sleeping i shouldn't let 2-1/2 hours send me into a tizzy. a couple of months ago, 2-1/2 hours was an accomplishment! of course, a couple of months ago i hadn't experienced the luxurious, sumptuous 8 hours.

you know, it's funny. when i talk to people who have used the ferber method (in which, to explain for the non-parents among us who may not be familiar, you follow a systematic procedure of letting the baby cry themselves to sleep, incrementally increasing the time you allow them to cry without responding each night), or who are trying to convince me to use the ferber method, they always say something along the lines of "yeah, the crying is tough, but once you experience that first 8 hour stretch it's all worth it." well, that argument never swayed me before, and it's seeming even less persuasive now. because yes, the 8 hour stretch was pretty fantastic. but now that i know it's a possibility, anything less is just crap, and way way harder to accept than it was pre–8 hours. yes, i realize that there's something very defeatist and pessimistic about this attitude. but it's also true.

okay, i'm feeling better. i put with arms outstretched on repeat and have been signing along as loud as possible, and that's helping. [speaking of music, the new mountain goats album is amazing. go get it.] but i'm still done posting for tonight. baseball, boobs, and food will have to wait for the weekend.

i did throw some new pictures up on wile's site. go ahead, you know you want to look.