Oh, my poor little neglected blog. I have so many moments of things where I think, “I should blog about that,” but then I either forget it or I can’t come up with a way to capture it in an interesting storytelling format. Which sort of feels like the whole point of blogging, right?

Stuff like:
* Catie’s favorite candy right now is what she calls “Reese’s penis butter cups.” And every time she says it, I have to cover my face with both hands and leave the room so I can laugh where she can’t see me.

* Catie also told me that you have to take an airplane to get to South Carolina and that the people there speak another language. After much confusion, it appears that she thinks the words “Carolina” and “America” are interchangeable.

(And yeah, I guess they kind of do speak another language in certain parts of South Carolina. So she wasn’t totally wrong.)

* I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but Lucy cannot say that “Lu” part of her name, so she calls herself Cici. Which means that now we call her Cici most of the time. It’s kind of adorable and perfect for her.

* I got a notice in the mail about signing Catie up for a local beauty pageant. I laughed maniacally before tossing it in the trash. Do what you want to do, I guess, but I will never, ever be a pageant mom. And I cannot imagine my little nerdy tomboy child would ever go along with the fancy dress and big hair and all that. Unless you can count “playing games on the iPad” as a talent, because she would smoke the competition in that category.

* I’ve been dating quite a bit. It’s fun. It’s nice to have guys that make you feel pretty.

* My mom and I took the girls to see Yo Gabba Gabba Live a few weeks ago. And we (Catie, Lucy, and I) got down into the toddler mosh pit in front and we high-fived DJ Lance. This is what qualifies as a really awesome moment in my life. Don’t judge.

* Dave is in town for the next week or so, and occasionally he has to text me phonetic words to help him translate Lucy-speak to English.

Example:
Him: What does ‘Oo-oo’ mean?
Me: It means dog. That’s how she says ‘woof woof.’

I mean, duh. Obviously. How could anyone not know that?

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So, see, most of that stuff ends up condensed as a tweet or a Facebook status update, and then I don’t really come here to expand on things. Even though I want to. And I miss it. I’ve also been bad about answering friends’ emails for the same reason. Taking the time to sit down and string more than two sentences together feels like too much work.

And really, the reason it feels like so much work? Is because I am TIIIIIIRED. Because Lucy still isn’t sleeping. A lot of the sleep coach’s ideas were really good, but most of them are not things that I’ve been able to implement.

For example, she said that Lucy needs to be in bed no later than 7 to 7:30 p.m. Well, I don’t even get the kids from daycare until 6:00, and then I either have to cook dinner and feed them, or we go to my parents’ house for dinner, but either way, usually we’re only just getting into the bath by 7:30. If I get her to bed by 8:30, I feel like I’m doing really well.

Also, the reward chart? Lucy does not understand that at all yet. So that didn’t work.

And the baby gate in her doorway? Since this is a rental house, I had to use a pressure-mounted gate because I can’t screw one into the doorposts, and it took her less than 30 seconds to figure out how to go all “LUCY SMASH!” on it, knock it over, and then walk out of her room like nothing happened.

She looks cute during the daytime, I know. Trust me, this face is not cute at 3 a.m.

One of my own personal theories about Lucy’s sleep habits is that she simply doesn’t like being alone. When Dave is in town, she and Catie sleep together on a fold-out couch. And Lucy always sleeps through the night for him, without fail.

Dave said that he has seen Lucy wake up in the night. She sits up, looks around, sees him across the room and Catie right next to her, and then she lies down and goes back to sleep.

So, I’ve decided, the girls are going to start sharing a bedroom. Catie was dead-set against this idea when I first suggested it, but I’ve managed to bribe her into going along with it. (Promise that kid a new Skylander action figure and you can probably get her to do just about anything.)

Dave is going to help me re-arrange furniture this weekend to get their room set up. Is it weird to use my ex-husband for manual labor? Probably. Oh well. They’re his kids too, after all.

Wish me luck. Hopefully this will solve the constant wake-ups.

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** About the post title: this song by Of Monsters and Men?

I liked the song, until The Guy told me right around the time of our break-up that it reminded him of me. Now I hate it. Funny how that works.