Weary.

I started "teaching" (mostly facilitating/grading/answering emails) this month, which means I've lost two hours a day. So far, I've also made dinner most nights, and the laundry situation hasn't noticeably deteriorated (which speaks less to how well I'm doing than to how poorly we keep up with the laundry). I think I'd have to start getting up earlier in order to fit in my blog, too, which is why my last post is from August.

I'm looking forward to weaning Cecily. I know that breastfeeding is one of the singular delights of womanhood and all, but I don't think men are missing out on anything. My baby routinely kicks me in the face while nursing, yanks my hair, and has recently taken to standing up (bent over, grabbing onto my face/hair/shirt/teeth for support) while latched on. With her eight teeth, it's just as comfortable as it sounds. At nearly 11 months old, she's still never consented to a bottle, or a sippy cup, or a regular cup. So in a month or so when I've reached my limit, she's going to be thirsty.

Mischievous face.