Ugh. My chest hurts. It's all throbby and hot and I can barely walk or anything, let alone carry these two hulking babies around. This happened once before to me, before I started writing this diary I think. It was that horrible fall, the one where Max died (my beloved cat) and I lost my mind. I hope that the chest problem is not the harbinger of horribleness. I think it's not. It just hurts.

Awkward transition: Speaking of hulking babies: yay Brittania! I'm so glad everything has settled down with this one. And here's my book recommendation: Siblings Without Rivalry. It's kind of lame in the writing, but hand to god, it's the best book about making things ok between your kids. I normally hate books about parenting, but this one I find very excellent.

We have been traveling this past month. To Florida, where my boy turned two, and to Maryland, where is Pop-pop turned 71. That's almost as old as my grandmother, who we also saw in Florida. She was funny. She was holding Matilda, who didn't have any socks on, and said: "where are this baby's socks?! MOLLY. You MUST put socks on this baby! Don't you know babies who don't wear socks get colic!" I just said, yes ma'am, and hopped to it. I figure 80 years old and 11 children, and lord only knows how many grandchildren, she gets to tell me to put socks on my baby. She also asked me if I'm feeding the baby (who, by the way, is a GIANT--bigger than Ossie was at the same age. She's wearing a 12 month outfit right now, in fact. In fact, she is only just 4 months old). I said, yes, but just breastmilk. Oh boy. She then told me to start giving her cereal, MUST GIVE BABY CEREAL. And also to not pick the baby up all the time and to let her cry, etc. etc. I kind of loved it. It was the old school greatest hits of parenting.

So yep. Semester is almost done. I just have to grade nine million pieces of (virtual -- bah) paper and then I'm a-finished. I should do this now. Ossie is in school and Matilda's asleep. I'm parked outside of the library in town, stealing someone's wireless. I really should grade. I really don't want to.

I've been trying to make things. We bought a sewing machine in a fit of creative frustration (mine). I love it. I love the mechanical parts and learning how to use it. I also totally suck at it. I can't sew one single straight line. I don't know what my problem is. But I have made two baby blankets for my two babies for Christmas presents. I decided that I want to make them presents every year. Homemade presents are so much better than anything from the store.

Jeff had a big job interview yesterday. We went and bought him a whole new outfit for it, including new shoes. I almost didn't recognize him in his sports coat, TIE, and fancy work shoes. This job is basically Jeff's all time dream job. And it's part-time, which is perfect, because we need to juggle the babies when I have to go back to work in January. We've got our fingers crossed big time. Sounds a little bit like he got the job, but I'm going to try to be very pessimistic here. It's my ward against the evil eye. So he probably did not get the job. Who needs that stinkin job! Fuck that stupid job!

Other items: the house is not even close to done. Still no hot water, no shower, no stove. Sigh. I just don't know anymore.

My parents are coming for Christmas. I invited all of my brothers to come too, but it doesn't sound like any of them are going to take us up on the offer. I wish this did not hurt my feelings. Oliver can't come because of money, which I understand. Joe & Jess and their wee baby may not be able to come because of a new job. I totally understand. Dan won't come, I think, because he has blamed North Carolina for his troubles (don't ask me) and so he is staying alone in Georgia. Which means that my enabling family will cut short their intended stay with us and Shawn will go see Dan but not us. That last one is the only one that really makes me sad. I would have liked for Shawn to be here for Christmas. I love that boy.

Anyway.

Matilda is no longer the easy baby. In fact she is actually the hard baby. She does not sleep well, ever, unless I am carrying her around. And I am all overloaded on people TOUCHING me all the time. My skin crawls at too much touching touching. I do love my little baby though. She is such a huggable baby--so big and round and cute. Ossie is mister talks a lot these days. He's funny. He says: "it's three minutes!" while looking at his wrist. Or: "it's ten clock!" I think they must say that at his school. Probably right now they are saying that since it's 10 now. Matilda is waking up. I wish it would snow again.

Ok. That's it for me. I had better do something with this baby girl. I'm going to try to walk a few miles. Ciao.