Look. I've got nothing to give. Linnea is nearly 6 months old. I'm sleeping more than I did with Matilda at this age but I'm still sort of burned out. Feel like I'm slipping into quicksand. Sick of typing with one hand. Can't seem to get on top of a reasonable weight-loss plan (the most insane idea, and the one that's actually working, is to drink olive oil). Still sucking wind with the running. Need a haircut. Just. Sort of. Meh about everything and also mildly paniced.
We went to Sweden a few weeks ago.
We go every year. Little did we know that the first year we took Matilda, when she was 5 months old, was going to be the easiest trip we'd ever take with kids. This year, with a two-year-old and a 5 month old, was the exact opposite of a good time. Door-to-door the trip is 15 hours. 6 hour time change and at least 4 extra hours of daylight a day. I'm not going to lie. It was not really. Um. Fun. Sure, Matilda got to swing in the best swing ever:
and Linnea got to eat her rivals:
but the trip as a whole sort of hurt my head and sent me into a tailspin of tired and drained for a week after.
So there was that. Now we're home and it's hot. Matilda starts repeating herself before she's even out of bed in the morning. She nurses her babies (asks if they're done or do they want the other side?), been making salads out of paper towels and eating the thai basil straight from the garden. She's been talking about potty training and wearing underpants but she won't use the potty. I'm trying to be patient but I'm really quite done changing diapers on two kids.
Linnea is well on her way to a balanced diet. She's had rice cereal and applesauce. Lemon sorbet and watermelon and sweet potatoes.
She talks all day and is *thisclose* to sitting unassisted.
These kids.
