Sleep Like a Baby?

Bleh!

I'm having one of those 'moments' that have been remarkably more common since I've become a mom -- and since I've edged my way to near 40, who knows which is to blame. It's the kind of moment where you find yourself attempting to start 4 sentences at once, none of which you're certain to finish. Anybody feel me here?

Leaning heavily on a natural segway as the way out of my problem tonight, I've decided to include some questions in each of my blog posts from here on out. I did it without thinking at the end of the last post, but later realized I like the idea. Clearly, I write this blog primarily for one person -- one who doesn't even usually hold a book right-side-up as yet -- but I try to imagine an audience of other readers, i.e., you. And I try not to bore you to death, while being sure to include enough saccharine detail for the boy to know he's truly adored.

Part of the reason I like the idea of asking questions of you -- the imagined other reader -- is that I turned the first year of this blog into a hardcover book as an Xmas present for Django this year, and realized that most of the official "comments" came from only one source: Unk Jon. Even though I'm sure this blog doesn't have anywhere near the following that the Dalai Mama or Stuff White People Like blogs enjoy (and deserve,) I feel pretty confident in assuming there's more than one reader. So, if you are not Unk Jon and you are reading this now, consider yourself called out. You are part of our extended family, whether we know it or not, and we would love to hear from you.

As for the other 3 sentences I wanted to start as I sat down to type tonight, I can now only remember one, and that is: where the hell did the expression 'sleep like a baby' come from anyway? I mean, sure, babies are GREAT sleepers when they have a mind to be, but the rest of the time, they suck -- and I mean that literally, as well as figuratively. In terms of an analogy, that's like saying "cooperative as a donkey." Doesn't make sense to me at all.

In other, unrelated notes, Django is so, so, so, so, so, so very happy Winter Break is over and he gets to spend most of his waking day with his friend Max (who he calls, Maaah) again. I think the almost-2 weeks with almost-only me as a playmate bored him to tears. At least Santa (and the cousins) brought him some new, exciting toys, like the rocking horse in the photo, and he had a chance to go out and feed the birds with his Nana. Whew.