Thank Goodness for coffee and the written word....

Most of you know how much I adore Anne Lamott. She is easily my favorite author, of all time. If you havent read any of her books, I would highly recommend starting with Traveling Mercies though I cant guarantee you will agree with her politics. Anyways, enough gushing about my love for her.


Since Lily was born, I have been reading along with Operating Instructions (A Journal of My Son's First Year) in sync with Lily's age. It has saved me, at times, to read that someone went through the same emotions I experience. Here is an exerpt from what I read last night that was particularly comforting and hiliarious, considering that Lily's sleep "schedule" has been OFF for the past week-ish - and both she and I seem to be suffering from stinging eyes and fussiness. (Anne Lamott's son, Sam, is about 3 months old too - when she wrote this.)



"November 22: I wish he could take longer naps in the afternoon. He falls asleep and I feel I could die of love when I watch him, and I think to myself that he is what angels look like. Then I doze off, too, and its like heaven, but sometimes only twenty minutes later he wakes up and begins to make gritchy rodent noises, scanning the room wildly. I look blearily over at him in the bassinet, and think, with great hostility, Oh, God, he's raising his loathsome reptilian head again.

When I go over to the bassinet to pick him up, though, he looks up at me like I'm Coco the clown--he beams and makes raspberries, and does frantic bicycle kicks like he's doing baby aerobics. Then I feel I can go on."