From Wibbleton to Wobbleton

"From Wibbleton to Wobbleton is fifteen miles..." goes one of the nursery rhymes AG and I learned at Mother Goose story time. You sing this little rhyme and rock back and forth with your wee one in your lap (and then get stuck with that little ditty running through your brain for the rest of the week). If you have your own little one and are familiar with that particular rhyme, I apologize for the inevitable fact that you are stuck humming that now. Fifteen miles.

I have felt like I have been pulled from Wibbleton to Wobbleton repeatedly (again, sorry) for the past few weeks. Here's a quick recap of what we have been up to recently; hopefully some calm will follow all the chaos.

The Captain has been gone even more than usual recently, making for a cranky baby and a very cranky mama. He works long hours during the week, so when he is gone every weekend as well we all get a little burned out. I never knew that when you were a SAHM you would look forward to weekends as much (or more) as when you had a traditional job. I love my weekends now though - having the Captain here to take AG for a few minutes, actually seeing him for longer than our hurried weeknight evenings, and being able to share some of the fun things about having a seven month old together.

"Look Ma, no hands!"

AG is actually teething. I know I had mentioned it previously, but the proof in the form of a tiny little white razor blade in her mouth, along with some new behavior, tells me I had no idea what I was talking about before. My sweet little angel, while still sweet and angelic, does not want to be more than two inches away from me. No more setting her down a few feet away to play so I could work, or pay bills, or clean my house. She has to be touching me at any given time or she is crying. Daddy (and anyone else) is a poor substitute. While I'm flattered to have reached rock star proportions with the infant crowd, I don't notice any riders in my contract about someone to handle the mountain of laundry that is accumulating while AG clings to my leg.

My stepfather was recently diagnosed with a serious illness that required almost immediate surgery. For his privacy, I won't go into details, but due to a lengthy hospital stay I am now playing hostess to he and my mother's Pomeranian. This little dog is ridiculously demanding; he has never been to a boarding kennel and came with a set of instructions longer than I would send with AG. However, I'm really worried for my stepfather (and my mother) and am happy to do what I can. That's what family is for, and I know they would do the same for me.

Due to some circumstances at my former job, I have been working more hours the past few weeks. I am also short a babysitter while my mom takes care of my stepfather. I'm grateful for the flexibility that my former job allows me, but add that to everything else in my life and I'm feeling a little more than overwhelmed.

This weekend we helped host an oyster roast/graduation party. The good news is that I am just did the cooking and it wasn't at my house. I also tried out some amazing recipes that I will share later this week.  We also hosted a birthday dinner on Sunday, this one was at my house and I still got to cook.  Ack. I'm getting tired just writing this all down. Hopefully we can get through the next few weeks and manage to find some downtime before the holidays creep up on us. I'm thinking for Christmas this year everyone gets a framed picture of AG.