Well, I bit the bullet (does this mean I caught a bullet in my teeth? Who is trying to kill me, and why are my teeth so strong? Why am I so casually confident about such an extraordinary talent? I bet the Rifleman really could bite the bullet, though. One of those 12 or 13 first shots of the show. [I'm typing this for you, Mom. I love you so], and I started sleep-training my little monster baby. For reasons of general parenting style, I was trying to wait until she was 12 months, but she really doesn't sleep very well in our bed anymore; oh, and I am steadily going insane. I tossed her in her crib Saturday night and let the hate cries ensue. She is a very good hate crier.
Everybody was in Florida last week, but we were not all together, except for when we were. Dan was working in Orlando, so I caught a flight to my parents' house, but my mom offered to drive up with me on Wednesday so Dan and I could have a date on our ninth anniversary. We do not have many dates, so it was pretty special. We went and ate fancy food in our nuptial town, Mount Dora.
Dan's mom comes tomorrow to spend the week, and Joash is already excited about a visit from his "PapaGrandma." Ammi is, too, she just doesn't know it yet. I think we are bound to do plenty of South Bend activities. Dan had the idea last Saturday to go see the Notre Dame campus. We didn't get very far because we almost immediately reached a playground, and the babies played while we drank our Biggby coffees and even met and chatted quite naturally (as opposed to awkwardly) with several parents. It was a simple and lovely day. And then began the night that finally necessitated the sleep-training, but, still.
