Back to work tomorrow. It's been nice, being at home, but I don't feel especially rested or rejuvenated. Just tired, really.
We're entering into the tantrum phase, which is fun for everyone, if your definiton of "fun" is having needles drilled into the base of your skull. It's hard to believe that face is capable of screams that sometimes only dogs can hear.
Sigh. Most of it, I think, is just nearly-two frustration. Our features editor says it's because they find out they're not telekinetic after all and can't just make things (TV remotes, for example) fall into their hands.
And of course, the rest of the time he's being ridiculously cute. One day last week he ran around the living room in circles saying "peeka peeka peeka". And it's nearly impossible not to laugh when he quite solemnly imitates one of us, or points at one of the cats and tells them off _ in toddler-speak, of course.
What else. I'm still stitching on La Ghirlandata, which I'm really enjoying at the moment.
Um. That's it. Sigh.