Okay, so I'm not actually remodeling. That is just my way of apologizing for my absence yesterday's lack of creativity and free time.

I played Mr. Mom yesterday. And I say "played," because I didn't have to work while I was doing it (like my wife does every day). I just had to get up, wait for the wife to get 1.0's hair done, get the kids into the car, drop 1.0 off at school, hit the Krogers, come home, screw around and keep 2.0 entertained until it was time to get 1.0, then ride out the afternoon.

My plan was that I was going to do some straightening around the house, drop off the dry cleaning and a few loads of laundry to help out, and to show that this wasn't any big deal.

I got two loads of wash done, didn't clean a lick, and I forgot the fucking dry cleaning. And all the while there was no phone ringing with work calls (sometimes as many as 4o in a day).

I've said before how much I love and respect GBD (my wife), but being great at her job whilst tending to these two urchins and their every need is mind-boggling to me. By 4pm I had about had it. Sophia had to get a nap so her 20 minute CIO (cry it out) session didn't hurt me too bad. 1.0 was tired to and I talked her into some V-smile while watching cartoons in my room, all while I tried to read and send a few emails.

I'm still freaking tired now. (I love you honey).

And the tired thing brings me to the next subject: middle of the night awakenings and ninja visits.

Why on God's green earth is it that you can't ever get both kids to get thru the night? And I don't even mean the whole night. I'm just referring to the 11pm to 5am part of the night.

Last night 2.0 was obviously spent and after going to bed around 7pm, she hadn't gotten up for food as of 5:45am when I left for work. But I was already exhausted.

Why, you might be asking yourself?

Oh, I'm tired because of 1.0's multiple ninja visits between 12:30am and 2:30am.

And I forgot to mention that there has been a slight modification to the Modus Operandi of said ninja. Before when she came in, she'd merely sidle up nice and close to my side of the bed and stare until my soul began to hyperventilate, and then I'd snap awake to find a vision of mussed hair and pink pajamas standing before me, red pacifier in her mouth, as she said "I just wanna fweep wiff you in you bed."

Now, instead of that, she's obviously sensed that we're sleeping in a much deeper state of rest, because she will tiptoe in, open the door S-L-O-W-L-Y so as to make zero noise, and then she does the military belly crawl from the floor up on to the bed and just snuggles up to me, figuring (I assume) that she's so cute and sweet that I won't kick her back to her own bed once I awaken and try to figure out what in the Sam Hill is going on...again.

Needless to say I DO, in fact, send her packing. It's not like she lives in a box. Her room's very nice. But there's no way I want to spend the next five years breaking "The Family Bed" mess. Blech!!

Anyway, that's why I'm tired. However, me being tired often leads to some entertaining stuff (at least in my mind). I'll try to give you something decent today in the way of links, news stories, opinion pieces or whatever.

Happy Fursday ever-body!!