The Earl-y Bird

It was the quietest of Labour Day weekends here at FMC headquarters. I can't believe September is here already. Time with Frankie is definitely a new experience: while I measure my days in smaller and smaller increments - time till next feeding and time till next nap - the larger increments (the weeks and months) dissipate faster than ever.

The mummahaze doesn't help. I've read about this brain-melting phenomenon in a few places and am glad I'm not alone. It probably has a lot to do with sleep deprivation. Nonetheless I can't seem to get out of the house without forgetting make-up or deodorant or to change out of my bright blue crocs and I've been trying to think of the word for searching for water (with one of those y-shaped sticks) for three weeks.

Other weekend happenings? Frank has started to roll over. From back to front and mostly when she's upset. When she's sad or angry she gets herself into a little ball and this facilitates rolling. It's pretty funny actually. She fusses herself onto her stomach and then looks around completely surprised and unsure of what's going on. This new skill means no more leaving her on the kitchen table which was probably a less than parent-of-the-year idea to begin with.

Earl was here on Saturday and he took his work pretty seriously. The winds picked up early in the afternoon and we could still feel the house shift and shake when we went to bed at midnight. I forget in the intervals between hurricanes how long they can last. We lost our power but just long enough to play a few board games by candlelight (and flick on the light switches in room after room only to remember the reason the room was so dark in the first place).

Also this which is quite sweet:

(reblogged from tupelo honey)