Grape focaccia in the works, Cowboy Jack

Y'all, this smells soooo good. I just pulled the dough together: you warm some olive oil and toss in some fresh rosemary. While that's cooling, you get the yeast going and then add flour, cornmeal, sugar, salt and the rosemary oil, then knead together and let rise. Olive oil, rosemary and salt go so well together and in dough? Fabulous! Jack is a very enthusiastic cowboy today- his hat arrived, so we're in full spirit over here. Do you love the leash lasso?

He said the funniest thing in the bath the other day: "Mom, wash my leg pits." I asked what those were. They're the creases made in the backs of your legs when you bend your knees. Hah.

Whoa on night last night

3am: husband falls out of bed, wakes me up, gets right back to sleep and does not remember this now 3:50am: O cries out in his sleep but does not wake up; I wake up, T wakes up, T heads downstairs to watch TV

4:30am: T has taken to watching TV in the basement; he must be watching Comedy Central because his guffawing carries up through the air vents and wakes me up AGAIN; extremely annoyed, I intercom him and tell him to shut the freak up.

I cannot go back to sleep. Around 5:30, I think I do, and O wakes up at 6:15, thus, so do I.

Who's kidding?! What a ridiculous night.

Will need more coffee than the one I've already had. Whoa!

Reaching limit of sanity

Thanks in part to this blog, I have come to know with real clarity my limits on pretend play with the children. Really, people, I admire their imaginations, but I just cannot go on and on in fantasy land for more than about 30 minutes at a stretch and that's a good session. Mary mother of god, putting out fires, protecting seahorses, tasting imaginary food, putting aprons and bandanas and whatever on and off, on and off. Do you see it mom? Do you see it? Mo-om, get on your horse; we need to gallop away. Mo-om, do you like my chainsaw drawing? It's on a hook, see? Red light means boogers, green means go, yellow means pick ya' nose. Fake languages, fake words, then asking me, what does "pook", "peekee", etc mean? How in the sam hill do I know? I didn't make up the nonsense. My brain is breaking people. It's been just over 5.5 hours since I awoke with the boys (T is out of town), and I gotta say that I feel I want to put in industrial-strength earplugs and declare myself mute for the next few hours. This is why I am thankful that naptime is approaching and that I have a sitter coming this afternoon.