It’s another rainy day, except this time it means it. Yesterday it was light rain and drizzle today it’s a steady stream of cats and dogs. Morella went down for a second nap at 9:00. What is up with her? Is it growing? I don’t understand the need for sleeping more right away. Is it the dark, over cast day? Yesterday she went down for a nap at 9.40 and slept until 12:30. — it was a good thing that we skipped baby book time if she needed that much sleep. She was also cranky, had several poopy diapers — I was glad when Tim came home from work to at least share my exasperation.

Today I got the “no clean socks” comment coupled with the “no undershirts” comment from the other day day means I have to do laundry. Boo. I started a load of whites now. Sometimes it’s just the starting of them that’s a pain in the butt. I wish my basement was finished then it wouldn’t be such a chore to take Morella down there to do it. But once it’s started it seems to be easier to do…anyway. I was reminding myself that this could be 60 years ago at the very least, and I wouldn’t have a washing machine. I would have to devote the whole freaking day to washing clothes. Now that would suck! It’s bad enough that I have to wash my own dishes. Ha ha.

I am working on a letter to my Mom because I felt like I haven’t talked to her in awhile. I could pick up the phone, I know. But I like doing those in addition to a letter because my Mom has a tendency to talk about her medical problems the entire time, and share the bad news of the neighborhood, how broke she is, and all the other depressing things going on. She hardly ever asks what I am doing or what we are up to and when she does she’ll interrupt me half way through it to tell me about the one or two pounds she gained or lost. Or she’ll stop listening (I can tell) and wait until I am done so that she can go back to whatever it is that she is thinking. At least with letters, I feel like she has to listen to what is going on here. And if we talk after she gets a letter then she asks better questions and doesn’t get bored right away. You know? It’s more like an equal conversation.

The downside to the letter writing, is that Morella keeps taking my letter pages and carrying them around the house. I can handle that, and I’m sure Mom won’t mind a few wrinkly pages. What Morella can’t handle though, is that I won’t give her my pen. She threw two five minute tantrums about it this morning alone!

So I think I am going to go and try and finish that letter before the mail or her nap ends. It’s too early for me to go back to sleep, and there is some still coffee in the pot that’s mine. It would be nice to sit on the couch next to the window and write. I often dream of it, and here is my chance. But first I needed to post. I didn’t even talk about my weekend — I guess I could just say it was good.

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