"Crabble" being, of course, a mashup of the words "crabby" and "chubble." Which is how I've spent my last few days, wrangling a completely crabby Chubble. One who also won't sleep for more than an hour and a half at a time and wants to nurse constantly. She wasn't this hard to deal with as a newborn.
She makes up for it, mostly, in cuteness. Except that she's 15 months old, and all 15 month old toddlers are unintentional punks.
Actually, I was letting her play with the bitty cast iron skillet because we'd been talking about them in a group I'm in, and it reminded me that we had one. We haven't used it for years; there's nothing I'd make in quantities that small! So she happily filled it with toys and walked it around the kitchen while I started making these:
(Recipe here: http://smittenkitchen.com/2010/04/homemade-pop-tarts/)
That was, unfortunately, pretty much the only time during all of yesterday that she wasn't either on me or screaming because I'd dared put her down to do something so trivial as pee.
A little bit hashed today. We started a huge project in the girls' room a couple of days ago; we moved out their broken dressers, put shelves in the closet, and have been sorting clothing ever since. If it weren't for Crabble, this probably would have been a one-day project. But folding/sorting is hard to do with a complaining toddler in your lap, and BittyPrincess is, at 6, not exactly proficient at knowing whether any particular piece of clothing is still wearable. I really wanted to finish BittyPrincess' half of the closet today, but apparently Crabble is still in full force and it is very unlikely we'll accomplish anything at all, much less a bunch of finicky reorganization.
In Freedom’s Cause: A Review.
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