- Sleepy-Bear: I have a habit of calling Jackson ____-Bear. Most of the time, it's Boo-Boo-Bear (he just wants a pic-a-nic basket). When he grins, it's Gummy-Bear. And today it's been Sleepy-Bear. We're on Substantial Nap Number Three. Hells yeah. One was even in his crib! The other two have been in his swing. And he's been in a great mood all day to boot. He slept better last night, giving me an 8PM-2AM stretch, but went back to his every-two-hourly wakings after that. Progress is progress, I guess.
- Woombie WIN: ding! ding! ding! The Houdini Woombie is our winner! Two (or is it three? I've lost track) nights in a row now, he's gone to bed nice and snug in his thus-far inescapable Woombie swaddle. It's like a huge, stretchy tube sock with a two-way zipper on the front (so you can do diaper changes by unzipping from the bottom). He can bring his hands together and get them close to his face, which he likes, but hasn't yet succeeded in getting his hands or arms outside of the confines of the swaddle. I'm sure that day will come. The boy loves a challenge. But for now, it is working and we seem to have bought ourselves more time in the swaddle. Unswaddling hell is postponed until further notice.
- Take This Job and...Well, the Checks Still Cash...: Work still mostly stinks. We're moving to a new kind of billing system for our writing services that requires lots of training, tons of asinine questions from newbies, and this past week we learned that our parent company (a mega-huge publicly-traded for-profit insurance company) has sold our asses to a private venture capital firm. Blurg. While the top brass continue to pat our heads and assure us that nothing will change, I think we all know how these things go. The VC bean-counters want huge return on investment, so the bottom line will rule all. I work hard (try to these days, anyway) and am good at what I do (try to be these days, anyway) so I'm not concerned about job security should headcount become an issue...but they can certainly decide to force fewer of us to do more, making the days longer and the work more miserable. We'll see how it goes. I got a call from an executive VP of I-forget-what-she-said (can't even remember her name) to "check in" with me in light of all the recent news, and to tell me what a great job I do (as if she knows), so I assume my job is safe. They like me; they really, really like me. I just don't know if the job will continue to be good for me. Too much is changing too fast. A good friend and coworker, who recently got promoted and is HATING it now, keeps asking me, half in jest but half seriously, what we should call our new medical writing freelance business. We're getting together for lunch as soon as either of us has a free hour during the week to talk about Plan B. Because you should always have a Plan B. And since being a rockstar didn't work out for me, I guess this is gonna be it. I'll be updating my CV soon as a just-in-case move. I'm thinking of adding "booger-wiper" and "breast pump engineer" to my duties. That should make my application stand out, no?
- Come to the Dork Side: I made these for KB's birthday: UltraSuperGeek cakepops. Yeah, I know, poor Jackson. If it isn't bad enough that his parents are dorks, he actually has our DNA. Anyhoo, Leia was most delicious since her construction involved peanut butter candy melts, junior mint hair buns, and devil's food cake with cream cheese frosting. Yum, it was.
Here's the candle from KB's cake: