She really, really wants to play with her finger paints.

But she hates to get her fingers goopy.

This is causing her much angst.

I just lost The Game.

It was mistressindi’s fault.

So now you all get to lose it to.

I’d been winning since last November.

“Want some toast, Sean? Noooooooo, babies don’t eat toast. Morgans eat toast ’cause they’re big girls!”

Okay, it doesn’t look like much typed out like that.  But it was just so cute the way it happened.

All too soon Seans are going to be big boys eating solid food too.  Where did my little baby go?

soooooooo hungry

can’t get up (or use left hand) due to two kids sleeping on me

help!

someone bring me some food.

I’m so tired I could fall down and die right now. I should be sleeping. I could be sleeping even because Munchkin is asleep in her bed and Baby Bear is asleep here in my lap all ready to go to bed.

Yet here I sit randomly clicking my way round round the Internet. I’ve refreshed my livejournal friends list about twenty-seven-bazillion-and-three times in the past hour even though no one seems to be up and writing tonight and booju has gone bananas - really expensive bananas - and that’s just about enough to make anyone call it a night.
I meant to clean up before I went to bed. And then as time passed and I hadn’t started, cleaning turned to picking up the living room and putting away the food that’s still out back in the fridge. And then the living room idea dropped and now all I need to do is put away the food. And get ready for bed. That’s it. Then I can sleep.

But it’s just too much work. I’m too tired to do all that. So here I sit. And oh, look, that weblog which is only updated once a month or so still hasn’t been updated since I last checked six-and-a-half minutes ago. It just took me about thirty seconds to write that last sentence. Perhaps it was updated during that time. Should I check?

I am so pathetic. But not so pathetic as all of you out there who are sleeping instead of keeping me entertained. As if I was actually capable of comprehending anything written.

Oh, just, I am so pathetic. And everything feels so very unstubstantial tonight, as if the world could just crack open and shatter to dust and I’d be left sitting there in the middle of nothing - empty space. And there’s a sadness there and I feel as if I should cry. Not like crying or as if I want to cry, just as if I should cry, as if it would be right somehow, and I can’t attach a reason to that feeling.

Yes. Bed. Going.

I remember in my younger days sometimes when I’d been up several nights in a row studying or on a project or working unti lfour in the morning, I’d come home and just fall into bed and crash with my clothes and my watch still on and my hair up. Once or twice I didn’t even kick off my shoes. I remember I always felt horribly gross in the morning, or whenever I rose to face the world again, but all the same, I wish I could still do that sometimes.

Really. Going.

Goodnight.

I was just sitting here bemoaning my lack of writing time when it crossed my mind that hey - I could be writing right now!  I’m sitting here with a sleeping baby in my lap and the computer within easy reach and I could put that time to good use instead of wittering away time reading random weblogs and fanfiction sites and looking at endles pictures of baby slings for ideas to steal because I’m off to purchase fabric to make a new one tomorrow.

Perhaps the baby carrier part isn’t a waste of time - though I’ve looked at so many pictures that I doubt there are any exciting new design ideas left to discover - but the rest certainly is.

So I could use this time to write.  But I’m so tired.  Not sleey-tired so much, but brain dead any sort of creation is just way too much effort tired.  Think original thoughts?  Well, sort of original thoughts?  Okay, write completely derivative fiction?  Even that is so far beyond me.  And M. is watching TV and he sound from that is clashing rather horribly with Munchkin’s sleepytime CD and Munchkin herself isn’t helping matters because she still isn’t asleep and I can hear her moving about and chattering to her dolls.  She had a long nap this afternoon and that always plays havoc with her going to bed, but she was just so tired that I didn’t have the heart to keep her up then.

The point of that last paragraph, before I got sidetracked in bedtime woes, was that all this conflicting noise does not bode well for concentration.

Meh.  Sometimes I wonder why I even pretend.

Watch this

Bet they fell off a dozen times before they got it right