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Friday, January 17, 2014

Quiet Time

The silence around here lately is deafening.  Sorry.

Ever since Jack stopped taking naps, which feels like it was somewhere around his ninth or tenth day on this planet, we instituted Quiet Time.

Quiet Time is sort of the parents' version of "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."  Basically, "You don't have to take a nap, Jack, but you've gotta give us a brain break from your hijinks and shenanigans and pathological messiness and witty banter, man.  Like, in your room."  It didn't always work, it didn't always go smoothly, but since the acquisition of about 16 metric tons of Legos, it ain't bad.

Ittybitty still naps, and is currently exempt from QT.  For now.

So the quiet here is a bit like that, I guess.  And consistent with Wintertime, dormancy, hibernation, and all that, it's nice to not say much of anything.  No Christmas updates.  No road trip yarns.  No New Year's Resolutions.  No E.C. Predictably Gets Into WASPy Suburban Trouble posts (that may change).

We're instead just enjoying the short days and long, washed-out January sunlight.  The kids tramp through the laughably-named "woods" (made up of about 12 trees and assorted briars in our back yard).  They jump on the leaf-filled trampoline in galoshes like they're extras in a earthquake-themed 1970s disaster movie.  They demand to get in the very frosty pool.

Majesty and I just pop our allergy meds like Junior Mints and roll our eyes.

REQUEST DENIED.