Dear USC-

Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I really appreciate you completely sucking tonight and losing to Oregon State, even if it meant that I nearly gave myself a hernia by NOT screaming when Oregon State got that last minute interception that made my heart go pitter-patter. My son is asleep, you see, and so he doesn't know yet that the team that was number 1 before tonight isn't going to number 1 any more. We'll tell him in the morning, right after we sing the good morning song and tell him how much we love him. We'll tell him it's an even better day because you lost last night. To an unranked team.

Thank you for sacrificing yourselves and your coach to bring such joy to the heart of a 22 month old boy.

Assuming that we don't pull a you tomorrow when we play TCU, I think we have a nice little stretch coming up.

And even if we do lose, you lost first.

Ahhhhhhhh. I love college football.

Sleep well.

Love,

me

Today...

Today I actually got to work on time, with my lunch packed, and a bottle of water in my purse.

Three points for me!

I did not, however, do yoga this morning, quit drinking soda today, or resist picking up a few (actually a few!) of the cinnamon sugar chips that were leftover at work from Ted's catering yesterday.

So I lose three points there.

I think today is, so far, a no-score win.

Dear Kyle-
Thank you for taking such good care of me today. I needed a posse, and you were a very good one.

Love,
me

Oh, and here are some Noah pictures. Because everyone needs to see Noah pictures. :)

Despite the adorableness that I usually post, he's not ALWAYS smiling. Shocking, I know. Pitiful, too.

He usually smiles, though. See exhibit A: Daddy has gotten better at doing zerberts.

FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
He's not getting disembowled, he's just running around with a bucket on his head.

Mom told me to drink more water and exercise four or five times a week.

Do you think that walking up and down the library stairs (my hidey-hole to study in is on the 4th floor) counts?

Water, water...the irony of my Mom telling me to drink water is terribly amusing. She has Diet Coke in her veins. If she's having a bad day, people keep bringing her 44 oz. cokes until it looks like she has spent the day doing really big shots of something.

But she's probably right.

So. Water. And yoga. And walking.

And sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.......................

WARNING! WARNING! WHINING WILL COMMENCE IN 5.......4.......3......2......1!

I am so stinking tired. And it's not because I'm out (or in) playing around doing fun stuff and not sleeping. It's more like, after sleeping for eight or nine hours, I can hardly keep awake on the way to work. I was hoping that something would show up in the huge battery of bloodwork that my new doctor just ordered, but no dice. So now I'm left sitting here KNOWING that something is wrong but having no idea what it is. Getting to work on time? Psh. Staying coherent for class? Not so much. I almost had a panic attack last week because I couldn't get the words to come out of my mouth right and I felt like an idiot. I'm sitting there KNOWING that I have to do well (I'm on academic probation due to my undergrad record) and KNOWING that I can't seem to quite get things right. I practically transcribed my reading for my Tuesday night class and I still couldn't tell you what I read. It's so frustrating.

And also, did I mention that I'm tired? It feels like a huge, whiny cop-out to say, "Well, the doctor says that I'm depressed, and so I guess that's why I'm tired." After I take medicine. And see a therapist. And a psychiatrist. And a medical doctor. And spend two weeks in a hospital, for crying out loud.

Maybe I need to do yoga. Or something. I have great admiration for people who stick with recovery for any period of time, because I am melting and my brains may be coming out of my ears and I think I would just like to cry and sleep and then cry and then sleep for a few days. Weeks. Months. Whatever. I'll come out for Christmas, because I bought a new tree. On clearance, in late January, and it is perfect for those families whose boys are EXTREMELY allergic to real Christmas trees. As both of mine are. And we may actually do icicles this year, and hope that Noah doesn't eat too many of them. I'm pretty sure they are non-toxic.

*End of Whining*

Not too sound too bipolar, but it's worth noting that my son is adorable. And a genius. He's an adorable genius. Sunday we went to church with Kyle's family, and Noah wore khakis, a polo shirt, and an argyle knit sweater vest. He didn't LEAVE worship wearing all of those clothes, but he was wearing them when we started. And he was absolutely adorable. I couldn't get over the adorable.

Then we were home in the afternoon, and a couple of our friends were over. Noah was running around, then plopped down with Mr. Bear in the living room. Since we are inordinately proud of his speaking abilities (you know, all those that they have at almost 21 months old), Kyle was trying to get Noah to answer a question. "Noah, who is your favorite baseball player?" Noah: blank stare. "Come on, Noah, who is your favorite baseball player." Noah: blank stare, wrestle with Mr. Bear. "I was trying to get him to say Pujols again, but I guess it won't work." One of our friends chimed in with, "Yeah, Dad, I'm not a trained monkey."

At which point Noah burst into monkey noises. Complete with scratching.

Awesome.

In the interests of me refraining from entering the political fray, I offer new Noah pictures instead. Oh, and big hugs for Kyle for getting me an iPod shuffle for my birthday. I never would have thought of asking for one, but it's perfect- it'll be great for hanging out studying in the library AND for distracting myself while I'm sweating at the Y. And it's purple, so bonus points for him. I was very surprised and very excited. I'm building playlists now. Happy. :) Oh, and how cute are my boys?

Noah getting Mommy snuggles. He could not escape, but didn't seem to mind too much.

This will be great for when he runs for president someday. Future vetters take note: he is NOT nude. He is wearing a diaper.

Just in case you ever happen to babysit Noah, take note: sometimes "Color?" apparently means, "Mom, I just want to carry all my chalk around at once and not draw anything at all."