We’ve had the same pediatrician for 12 years. More than once, as I’ve taken my 12 month old (whoever that happened to be at the time) in for their checkup, he’d say, “Ah, the honeymoon phase ends at 12 months.” I’d let it go, ’cause I never really understood what he meant.

‘Til Max.

Oh, my, word. He’s driving me nuts. Still not sleeping through the night, he no longer wants to be put back in the crib after nighttime feedings. Instead, he screams.

He screams when I try to put him in his highchair now, despite the fact that he really wants to eat.

He ALWAYS wants to eat.

He screams when we need to go in the car.

He screams whenever I put him down. If by some miracle, he’s content playing on the floor for a bit, I can’t make eye contact with him or walk past him or he’ll suddenly realize that he’s on the floor (heaven forbid), and he not only screams, but chases me down while he’s doing it.

This has resulted in my new habit of quietly locating him when I need to go to the other side of the house and picking a route that takes me as far away from him as possible.

When I am holding him (which as you’ve probably deduced is most of the time), he’s not a big fan of me sitting down.

Neither is he a fan of being held by someone other than me.

He wakes up about 3 hours earlier in the morning than any of my other kids did. Do you know how distressing it is to hear your baby stirring in the morning and finding yourself saying, “Dangit. He’s awake.” I HATE thinking that about my baby. But as I said, he’s driving me nuts.

I have a sister-in-law who once said in a blog post that when she looks at a certain child of hers, she feels tired.

Right there with ya’, sister.

While Liv is doing very well for a first timer,

our team is going to end up being the charitable team in the league, as we keep giving out wins and keeping none for ourselves.

Things are insanely busy around here, but not horribly interesting. Max is a demanding little guy. I’m not sure if any of the others have been so demanding. And I swear he has a hollow leg, ’cause he never stops eating, and he’s only in the 15th percentile for weight. I don’t get how that works.

Liv’s in soccer. Abby’s in junior high. Poor little Veronica is the middle child and so accommodating, I need to find a way to keep her from getting lost in the shuffle. Clark is in preschool. Max is my fifth appendage that doesn’t like it when I do things that aren’t “holding Max.” Nate works all. the. time.

I’m truly ready for the luxury of sleeping through the night again. It’s been over a year now. I think I’ve earned it.

Other than that, I’m dyeing in preparation for making a braided rug with my m-i-l. We’re both very excited. I’ve been hired by someone I don’t know to knit 2 Christmas stockings that I’m trying to get done this month. I’m making my batts again, and so help me, I’m going to put them on etsy soon. (I dyed the most delicious blue-lavendar alpaca and wool last week, I’m really excited to card it up).

I need to figure out how I want to photograph the batts for the website, and I’ll post those pics here. Stay tuned.

The Christmas season approaches, and I’m looking forward to playing Christmas music on my guitar. I plan to start practicing soon.

That’s my check in for now. TTYL

I haven’t stopped running in days.

Somebody turned 1 this week!

I think this is the first time we’ve handed him food that wasn’t cut into bite sized pieces.

Clearly, he had to be cleaned up before getting his hands on presents. Happy birthday, cutie!

It’s a gorgeous fall day. Warm and sunny and the colors are vibrant. Clark and I went to a park along the bike trail first thing this morning to meet up with a girl that wanted to buy my soymilk maker off of Craigslist. She lives in Seattle and works in Bellevue, so decided to take the bike trail to work today to meet us at a park in between.

While we were waiting, we walked along the docks on the lake and watched ducks, water skiers, and seaplanes take off.

What a gorgeous piece of Earth this is!

So, the girls are in school and Clark is off to his first day of preschool. It’s not my carpool day, so I didn’t even drive him. I’m just in the house, alone with Max (who is, admittedly, trying to electrocute himself as he’s fascinated by all things powerstrip), but still, it’s a weird feeling. I’m not going to hear anybody speak for a few hours.

This is my annual, solitary rose that, while a bit late this time ’round, blooms and fills the left half of my front yard with a powerful scent of sweet lemon every year. Just one flower a year. The bush itself is a sad, neglected little thing, competing admirably with the weeds and over aggressive shasta daisies (which are also weeds at this point) that crowd it. And since the shoot and foliage of my one flower looks completely different than the rest of the non-productive bush, I think it must be the root that a “more desireable” rose was grafted onto that makes the flower. I’ve heard they do that with roses. But this one smells so intoxicating and so ridiculously strong…. I wonder why someone tried to force it into a different variety?

It’s lovely.

It’s that kind of day. Gray, drizzly, everything is wet but it’s not exactly raining…

Has me all melancholy. Of course, it’s also Thursday, which means I’m a few hours away from Thursday night, which is never a good thing. So that might be contributing.

I want to eat a huge bowl of hot, creamy mashed potatoes. ‘Cause, you know, that’ll fix everything. Or totally not.

What do skinny people do when they’re depressed?

I don’t think the house is cold. It doesn’t feel cold. But Autumn must be approaching because this morning, my toes were officially cold. Which makes me think about knitting socks.

For me, all of summer is spent in Dr Martin sandals, which callous the heck out of my feet. I have huge, tough callouses on the inside edge of each of my big toes, a full length ridge along the outside of each foot, (which is really freaky) plus the usual heel splits and such. It got pretty bad midway through the summer, so I spent some time exfoliating daily in showers and moisturizing in socks. It’s definitely time for that again but I’m putting it off ’til the sandals get packed into the closet for the winter. Perhaps it’s time?

They’re always upset when I cut Clark’s hair,

and this time, we got Max too!

It’s his first haircut! In addition to getting his haircut, he also had a bath. It hasn’t been a very good day for the little guy.