Since I'm up before the alarm clock went off, I thought I'd try to catch up a bit!
Let's see, what all has happened since last I blogged?
Julian is now seven years old.
We didn't have a big party this year - he didn't really seem interested like he has in years past. We just went out to dinner and let him pick the restaurant (he opted for Italian). We had a birthday cake at home - Star Wars, one of his favorites:
He got lots of presents from us, and from his dad, and from grandparents. It was a low-key day, but a good one. Happy seventh birthday, my big boy!
Rhys is now three months old:
He'd gotten to where he was sleeping nine hours at a stretch, but a bout with worse-than-usual congestion knocked that right out of whack, and he was waking up every hour to two hours there for a few days. That was no fun, let me tell you. Last night he slept for over eight hours, though, so I'm hopeful that we're moving back toward that nice long stretch of sleep. He's not a chatty baby - he doesn't make a lot of cooing and gurgling sounds, although he does make them. But he laughs. Not a big belly laugh yet, but if I do something that entertains him, he'll go, "ha!" and just get a big ol' grin on his face. (I've discovered that he finds chicken noises the height of hilarity.) I love baby laughs. When he went to the doctor for the congestion, he weighed in at 16 pounds, 13 ounces. He's outgrowing his clothes at a record rate. I can't even think of buying fall/winter clothes yet, because I have no idea what size he'll be!
I went back to work on July 10. Apparently I was missed, which is always a good thing. (I'm hoping the fact that people came to appreciate me in my absence might translate itself into some kind of raise this year, but given the industry I work in, I'm not counting on it.) It hasn't been terrible being back, although it makes me really sad to think that I'll likely never have a long stretch of time off to spend with the boys again.
Julian is now going to summer camp, and Rhys is in daycare. They're both at the same place, which makes drop-off and pick-up easier. I try not to think too hard about the fact that Rhys is in someone else's care for nearly half of every day. If I were to let myself think about it, I'd just cry. It's not quite so hard with Julian, because he's school-age and would be in school for a big chunk of the day even if I were home. But Rhys could be home with me, if only I could be home. I struggle with this a lot, even knowing that I'm not sure I'm temperamentally cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. I hate that my kids are and will be pushed into being somewhere and doing something on all their school breaks. I hate thinking that they won't get summers like I used to have as a kid, where you didn't have to be in a rush to get up and get moving so mama could drop you off at day camp on her way to the office, where you could sleep in if you wanted and where you didn't have to do anything in particular if you didn't feel like it. I want that for my kids, and I don't think it will ever happen, and that makes me sad.
And now that I'm all maudlin this morning, let me finish this up and go get dressed for work. So begins another day in the rat race.