So.

Last night Clark slept for five hours straight, meaning I slept for five hours straight--the longest stretch of sleep I've gotten in a month needless to say. I feel sort of amazing, which is why I can delay my nap long enough to type this. Besides, I have to stay up a bit longer because Clark refuses to fall asleep without being held, so I am currently swaying back and forth with him strapped on my front. Once he's out cold I can put him down and lie down myself. This situation (his only falling asleep while being held) is a problem. I'm dealing with it in stages. Will let you know the update on that sometime in the future.

This whole two-kid thing is hard. Today it doesn't seem quite as hard, which makes me think the difficulty comes with the sleep deprivation and is not born solely of the two-kid dynamic. But it's hard to entertain Frances while nursing and burping and walking and changing diapers, and when she plays on her own she pulls the animal food bowls off the counter where we've tried to get them out of her reach, and if they don't break when they fall to the floor they spill water, which she slips on, and cat food, which she eats.

And there's the baby. This tiny newborn stage is really sweet in some ways, really warm and lovey and sweet; but it's also really exasperating. I now remember why I had a hard time with this age the first time around. I mean, he just ate; how can he be hungry? My friend B calls it parasitic, and it is. It's also terribly monotonous. Asking Frances to name the colors of her blocks while the baby hangs off my boob makes things less boring for sure, but even with that it's hard to deny the monotony. I'm trying to remember remember remember that it's only a short period of time, and that later I will wish it had been longer. He is terribly sweet. And now he's sleeping so it's my time to do that too.