Sharing a room

My two oldest (three and five, respectively) are now in the same room.

I do not know if we will ever have normal bedtimes again.

On the plus side, now we get to look at awesome bunk beds and dream about which one we'll get:

Tractor!

or

No more dressers!

 

or

Oh my sleepless NO.

Any brilliant ideas?

Sparklers

In memory of Taleah Louise English, firework enthusiast and bravest of girls. I miss you.

The ability to edit...

A virus on my computer prevented me from changing text in emails or on blog posts for almost six months. This was horrible. I'd reread a sentence, or think of something I wanted to insert, and it would take me almost five minutes to stick my cursor in the right place. Then half the time it wouldn't let me do anything, and I was stuck there just imagining the ways that sentence could be better, had I the ability to actually make it so.

The virus is fixed as of this weekend. But it taught me how wonderful change can be, and how much first drafts should never be my only drafts, and...well, in short, yay for rewriting!

The image is from this post, which neatly defines rewriting (for screenwriters, but it applies to all of us who like to mess with words).

A poem about breastfeeding...

I am still breastfeeding my six-month-old. This poem...I feel this poem in a way that makes me want to yell at some times and cry at others. I am not in the same country, but I feel the exact same way.

(Thank you, Hollie McNish.)