I haven’t checked the odds in Vegas today as to whether I’m odds-on to fail at my every-day-posting pledge today or tomorrow. All I have to say is, bet the farm that I’m going to make it. You know how I love a long shot.
This iBook is not good for my carpal tunnel. I’m occasionally frightened when I imagine the future; all of us with our shriveled, crippled forearms after years of typing nonergonomically. When I had my massage back in May, the therapist massaged my carpal tunnel muscles and it hurt like the dickens. She said that they were really tight. (Like my neck, my back, etc.) Man, I have got to get back for another massage. It was soooo wonderful. (I know, I know, stating the obvious…)
Tonight was a fun night for our little family. Once Tim got home, we all set out on our bikes (Auggie in his trailer) for Grant’s Trail, which is about three miles from our house. We rode down to the end of the trail towards the river, another 3.5 miles. So, all told, we covered about 13 miles today! Woo hoo! And there was
this totally huge hill that I had to use the tiniest gear to make it up. And this mean guy yelled, “Pick another route!’ once we were at the top. I gave him the finger. Not a good example for my son. Bad Mommy.
Anyway, once we got home, I cooked up a Mexican feast — Auggie’s first. And he loved it! He was covered in shredded cheese, refried beans and tortilla once all was said and done.
Now it’s nearly 11 and I need to get off to bed. Auggie woke up at 1 last night and was completely inconsolable. Our best guess was that his tummy hurt, so I brought him back into bed with us, where he nursed all night and I barely slept at all. However, tonight Tim noticed that another tooth had broken through his top gums so there you go! He is teething! Perhaps that explains all the biting! So if he wakes up tonight, we’ll try the gum-numbing stuff first. Poor Auggie.
Still no articles written for my newsletter project… I did go over some of the information I will use to write said articles, however. That’s a step.
I’m such a bloody procrastinator. It’s a sickness, really.