Sanity

Not to minimize the experience of actual lunatics, but by Friday I'm just about there. I'm more apt to attribute a failed nap attempt to some grand cosmic conspiracy, more apt to mutter at inanimate objects that get in my way, and more apt to get choked up by articles in Sports Illustrated. All baby and no play makes Dan a dull boy.

I should call in for reinforcements when I start to feel my mind fester like Lyla's diaper pail, but I don't. I suck it up, shove down the stress, and fantasize about how long her nap might last. Could today be a two-hour day? Oh please, let it go at least 90 minutes.


Yesterday was an awesome Friday, however. My mom came over mid-morning with greasy food. We chatted; Lyla was cute. I left for awhile to read at Starbucks. Then twenty minutes after my mom went home, Julie called to say she was coming home early. By 5:00, we were at the pool. The pool exhausted Lyla, who slept like a champ last night, and then Julie took her out today without me for several hours.

And sanity, sweet sanity, returned.