I don't care what your mother told you. Crossing your legs is ineffective.

I love finding a new place to park myself that isn't Starbucks. I'm sitting at Starwich, my new haunt (as much as anything can be a haunt, considering I never leave the house). This place got it right: comfy without being collegiate, interesting food, and cheap, correctly roasted coffee. Nice. (-2 for turning up the satellite radio.) Matt's spending the afternoon with the sprout which is just about the nicest gift he could give. Scratch that - taking over the 6 am feed this morning was tops. Baby B is going through a sleep regression as I'm sure I mentioned. We have a serious love-hate relationship, sleep and me - meaning I think it's awesome and it thinks I stink. Sleep is my Everest, my whale, my frenemy. I get seriously squirrelly when I can't have it. But there's little to be done, it is what it is, que sera sera, where's the freakin' wine opener...

In other news, I got my first baby kiss the other day which is the greatest reward ever. He'd spent the morning practicing puckering when suddenly he grabbed my face with his sticky baby hands and planted an honest-to-god kiss on my cheek. It's only happened once (we seem to be back to the open-mouthed slide which is nice, if a bit drooly) but damn it was cute.

I'm still trying to come up with my ideal career. Teaching is still in consideration, although I'm feeling a bit iffy these days. I'd probably have to know about things like math and science and geography and history. You know, fact based things. I could barely help the third grader I used to babysit with fractions; guiding America's young minds might not be the best place for me. The only other thing I'm considering is editing. I'm not sure how one gets into editing exactly or if there's money/stability/vacation pay involved but...

(Losing train of thought as she realizes Starwich's fatal flaw: no bathroom.)

I'll be right back...