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November 4, 2002
a year ago
two years ago
three years ago
four years ago
five years ago

More Sleep, Magnum Light, Ramen Binge

10:58 am: Well, the combination worked, I think. John got plenty of sleep. Jet only woke up at midnight, though for some reason he had a complete screaming fit to see me and only me. So John finally gave up and brought him to me, and I took him to the livingroom couch and nursed him back to sleep. This time he stayed asleep all the way until 5, and John took him then, no problem. He'd gotten plenty of sleep. I, on the other hand, slept in until 8 and now I feel far more alert and happy.

I know that I used to go, quite cheerfully, on five or six hours of sleep a night. But I also remember falling asleep in boring meetings, on the massage table, in my office. I'd just prop my feet up and nap a bit in my office. I'd also stay up until midnight playing soccer, hurt a lot in the morning, and then go in to work at 8 or 9 or even noon. It's odd, now, knowing that I didn't have nearly the clarity that I now have. Watching a nearly two-year-old requires clarity and I really can't sleep at that job. I definitely feel better with the sleep I now get. Yay!

10:23 pm: Jet loves his little Magnum flashlight. It's one of those little jobbers, with the screw-on head that if you tighten it, it lights, and if you loosen it, it turns off. He spent a good two hours waving it around in the livingroom, looking at everything he could get close to with it, and peering at it through blankets, his hand, his foot, the chair, the carpet, the footstool, my foot, my hand, my ear, John's head, and just about everything else. I don't even remember how many things he looked at with the thing.

He loved waving it around behind his head, and he had to lean way back to watch the light moving on the ceiling or the walls. He liked just waving it around to see what it would do, and experimented with it a lot.

I was pretty impressed. I thought he was going to go to sleep while nursing at 4:30, but he didn't, and we went out to Safeway and Papa Murphy's to get pizza and stock up on a few things we no longer had. He didn't fall asleep on the way in. He did great at the store as he was pretty tired and decided it was just fine to sit in the cart and watch us get stuff. I did give him a ride on the penny pony, and he enjoyed two pennies' worth of ride before asking to get down again. He walked back to the car, hanging onto the side of the cart.

I sat in the back, with him, playing as we went home. We did head banging, sideways and forwards and backwards. We sang about monkeys and mommies and jumping on the bed. We giggled as Daddy went "BOO!". Jet kicked the arm rests of the front chairs. We blew raspberries. We had a great time.

And Jet stayed awake long enough to get home and refuse, categorically, to eat pizza. He browsed the pantry, pulled out a caramel and then spit it out when it stuck to the roof of his mouth. He refused a cookie. He ignored the marshmallows as he doesn't like them anyway. Finally, I asked John to cook him half a package of shrimp ramen, and Jet actually sat down at the table and ate it with both hands, as fast as he could. Mmm... ramen.

For some reason, Jet's on a ramen binge, now. He just loves the stuff and nearly no matter when or how we cook it, he'll eat it. Isabel discovered that while she was here, and I'm very grateful to her whenever I'm worried that Jet's just going to refuse to eat anything. He refuses candy and will eat ramen. I'm very impressed.

Today was the first day back to my having Jet to myself in the afternoon and it was pretty good. He slept more than two hours for his nap, at the usual time in the very late afternoon. Joan managed to keep him awake for the morning, and he was so tired that when he came home, he just fell asleep after nursing very nicely. I was very glad. Maybe if he goes back to his old schedule during the day, the night will follow.

We had lunch when he woke up, and he ate globe grapes, the enormous ones. He also ate chicken nuggets from his McDonald's lunch of last Friday. I toasted them, and he peeled the breading off and ate just the meat. He also had some V8. He's so funny in some ways with his eating habits.

We had fun playing, afterwards. I sometimes get to chase him around, and he'll sometimes chase me around and giggle like crazy if he runs into me. We wrestle, blow raspberries on tummies, and then draw on his notebooks with his new tub of drawing implements. He has twisty crayons, glitter pens, and all kinds of stuff. He has these huge markers that work on black paper, and I used one of those to re-mark my hash marks for my calligraphy. He studied the Chinese calligraphy models very seriously and asked me what they were, and I tried to name the ones that I knew.

Sometimes I am sad that I'm illiterate in Chinese. Other times, I'm just glad that I'm fairly literate in English.

It's odd realizing that I now make my living writing. It's not writing fiction, though it is writing about things that never were. But it's writing with the goal of making these thoughts, desires, and concepts into something real that users can get their hands on and actually use. It's much more exacting than fiction, I think, in that all the details have to be right and there are sources outside my head that have to agree that the wording that I've created is correct, understandable, and allows them to share the same vision I have for the thing that is to be.

Maybe it's more in the realm of spell-casting than anything else. Name it with enough precision and it will come to be. Kind of like the real world application of the concepts behind the Wizards of Diane Duane. Or something like that. I describe things well enough to make them real for a living. That's a pretty cool concept and it's interesting to see it in action when it works. It's horribly frustrating when it doesn't, though. It helps having a lot of people with vested interested in my getting it right, though, and they help make it more so. That's pretty cool.

It's funny to realize, though, that in my heart of hearts, eventhough I do write for a living, I don't think of myself as a Writer. Mostly because I don't do fiction. It's just funny when words fill my days.

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Copyright 2002 Liralen Li. All Rights Reserved.