"Oh can't you see I'm tired, I'm tired, I'm tired"

(I make no excuses for the slideshow that accompanies this song) When I was growing up, Joan Baez's Diamonds and Rust was in heavy rotation in our house.  B did not have that experience and strongly objects to such, so I'm taking this time while she's away to listen to a little Joan, and this song has been stuck in my head.

B's ETA is in the hours of late night or early morning.  She's been gone since 5:00am Tuesday.  For me and LB, morning start around 6:00ish.  I drink coffee in bed and she eats cereal in bed.  The usual stuff.  Out the door between 7:00 and 8:00, brisk mile walk to daycare, happy dropoff (thankful!) and another two miles to work.

LB gets to swim once a week with daycare, and when it's clear they play outside a lot.  LB has been deep a game about scary chasing kittycats before I even leave the yard.

Onward: work, work, work.  I'm coming off some crazy weeks at work (and a late event the Monday before B left) so this week I've making a conscious effort to work less that my usual 45 or so.  Instead it's been in by a bit before 9:00 and out around 4:30.  In general I've been trying to walk at least one way to work or home (3 miles), but this week I've given myself permission, also, to take the bus and save what energy I have.

Back to work.  LB with a wild mane of curls, shoes on the wrong feet, shirt tucked into her underwear which is pulled up nice and high.  Girl's got style.  Her new favorite toy is a stuffed dog who has had his eyes chewed off by our actual dog.  Into the stroller and a mile back home.

Tuesday we had a special outing to the bakery on the way home.  I don't think I'm much of a judger, but when I worked at a certain corporate coffee concern, I seriously wondered about parents who would come in a drop $5.00 on snacks for a single child (1990s prices).  And now, in 2014, I dropped $6.00 on a muffin and juice for LB and felt like it was money well spent.  On Wednesday we had a picnic dinner on the living room floor and watched Thomas, and this evening I remembered that we had popsicles, and so we did.

I've also let LB sleep in "the mama bed"-pure heaven for a child.

All and all not a bad three days, although LB has made an unfortunate philosophical turn, and even Harry at the Beach, provokes endless question.  Of seaweed covered Harry, "is Harry a dog? No mama, is Harry still a dog.  Why Harry want the same umbrella, why?" Cute. Tiresome.  Cute.