Pavlov’s Dogs

I’ve woken up to Jane’s screams for the last five mornings in a row. I’m starting to feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Every time my eyes open to greet the dawn I clench my teeth and flinch, waiting for the air around me to be filled with shrieks of two year old teething horror. But this morning Jane voluntarily relinquished her THREE pacifiers for a few minutes, so I’m hoping and praying relief is on the horizon. Until then we’re single-handedly keeping the Infant Advil company afloat.

In two words: this sucks. Just ask Mabel, she’ll tell you. She’ll also tell you that we’re way overdue giving her a haircut and she feels like a sheep dog. And she doesn’t like it.

I’m so excited to have the new dining room light fixture hung. It’s a welcome change from this.  I bought the fixture here. Be not deceived people. It is not gray. It is beige. We spray painted it to match the trim and built in china cabinet. The first night it was up I kept playing with the dimmer until I burned one of the bulbs out. That’s how I know my crazy is showing. I blame all the crack of dawn screaming. Seriously, it’s only a matter of time before my eye begins to permanently twitch.

Then again, it was only a matter of time anyway.

 

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