The Joys of Nursing a Toddler

Pre-kids, - heck, pre-baby E - I never saw myself nursing a toddler. As much as I knew nursing was a parenting tool I'd employ, nursing a 2yo was never something I imagined was for me. And, if I'm completely honest, it was something that I thought was kind of icky. You know, obviously breastfeeding is best for babies, but once they get teeth (ouch!), and once they're walking (walk to the table and get some food, kid!), and once they're talking (ask for some real food, kid!), etc... they no longer "need" it.

So, it's funny that that's where I find myself now. And particularly so, since I love nursing my talkative, runs and climbs all over the place, has a mouth full of teeth little boy.

Here are a couple of the reasons why...

(First, Baby E still calls nursing "mulp-mease", milk in a cup has become just "milk". Also, his pediatrician pretends they have birds in their ears to get them to hold still when she's checking their ears. It's amazingly effective.)
E: Mulp-mease all gone.
Me: Yup, it's all gone.
E: More mulp-mease?
M: It's all gone. We'll have more later.
E: [Where] mulp-mease go?
M: Is it in your belly?
E: No, mulp-mease no in belly!
M: Then where is it?
E: Mulp-mease in baby E's penis!!!!!!
M: Uh, maybe. Where else could it have gone?
E: Baby E's birds drink all 'uh mulp-mease!
And then he cracks up laughing for like 5 minutes, totally amused with the joke he's made. And how can I not laugh at that?!


The other morning, hubby let me sleep in (thank you, dear!). When I did get up, it was after 9am. As soon as I came out of my bedroom, baby E came running up to me, as I'm sure many of your kids do with you. He grabbed me around my legs, shouting with joy. After a minute of that, and then lots of hugging, baby E put his hands on either side of my face, looked me dead in the eyes and said, "mulp-mease pease, momma!". It was not a question. It was a statement, one made with excitement. Serious excitement.

I prepared the SNS, with him staying right by my side. When I told him it was ready, he said, "hold hand?" and we walked to the chair where we nurse 99% of the time. He waited patiently for me to get settled, climbed up into my lap, and sighed the most contented little sigh. He latched on and smiled up at me. Then he reached up and oh, so gently patted my cheek.

I understand that nursing a toddler isn't for everyone. But I am pleasantly surprised to find that it is for me. And I am beyond grateful for the experience.


Today's Lesson: I don't say this nearly often enough, but baby E's milk mommies, all 30+ of them, are the reason I was able to do this. They are amazing women and I so appreciate them one and all. Hum, that's not really a lesson though is it? Okay, so here's one. Sometimes the lesson, well, it's one you've just got to figure out for yourself.

Hats

The kid won't keep hats on. I love kids in hats. But he's just too antsy to leave one alone. Same goes for sunglasses, or gloves, or much of anything. Baby E, however, loves hats. In fact, he asks for them. And then keeps them on. Which is a totally new phenomenon for me.

 

I ordered him a few new ones recently. And he was super excited when they arrived. He demanded he wear one as soon as it came out of the box. Pre-tag removal even. And then he decided I should wear the other. I'm not sure what it says that we can wear the same hats. And that those hats are too small for my 6yo's big ole head. But anyway.

 

Here we are, being cute in his new moose and tiger hats. Because if there's anything he loves more than hats, it's having his picture taken while he's being cute.

 



 

 

 

And then he took off running across the room. He grabbed the kid's skull-n-crossbone rain boots and raced back over. He plopped down on the floor and pulled them on. Then he said, "I look goooooooooood, momma. Takea pit-ur". So I did. Because how could I not?!

 

I mean, honestly, look at that face! How can you not smile?

 

 

Today's Lesson: I clearly have a lot to learn about fashion. Maybe one day my children will teach me.



A Special Heart

Somehow I did manage to get Christmas cards out this year. Actually, I know how that got done - I had to work the day before and Thanksgiving days and had no patients either day. 16 hours where I watched several movies, read two books on the Kin.dle, and wrote and addressed my Christmas cards. But that's totally not the point of this post. Moving on.

I sent the cards out in a couple of batches because even though the cards were done, that doesn't mean we had any stamps in my house. And when I ask my husband to come home with 2 or 3 books of stamps, he usually comes home with one. I'm pretty sure that even if I asked him to come home with 83 books of stamps, he'd still come home with one. And, moving on. Again.

I sent one, among the others, to each of the boys' birth families. And the week before Christmas we got one back from the kid's birth family. This was a surprise, and a wonderful one. We haven't heard them in quite a while.

The kid apparently wasn't in the room when hubby and I opened it, smiling, and looked at their kid's pictures they sent along. My oh my, the three of them (the kid, and his 2 birth siblings) look so much alike!

So he wandered into the kitchen a few minutes later and picked up the card. He said, "this looks a lot like my birth brother, and this one like my birth sister". I said, "well, it is them".

He held the pictures for probably 30seconds, just staring at them, with a gentle smile on his face. "Wow, momma.  I love my birth sister. She is really pretty and a fun girl. And I sure love my birth brother. He has a really special heart".

So do you, my sweet boy. So do you.


Today's Lesson: Children's hearts know how to love.

Family Tree

 

So, the whole Family Tree project. It's finally done and turned in. Well, it was a few weeks ago. Funny enough, it was one of those things that, even though we've known about it for like 3 months, got done at the last moment. Because, well, my life is chaos. At any rate, after my initial, "holy hell it's due in 4 days" moment of epic panic, we got that thing done.

 

I randomly came up with the idea to use a Christmas tree. It was my favorite idea of how to go about this project, though I did offer the kid a few alternatives. This was the one he decided on. 

 

There were a couple of reasons I wanted to do it this way (though I - seriously - tried not to sway him one way or another). First, I thought it was appropriate since the project was due near Christmas time. Second, we're planning to pull it out as a cool Christmas decoration every year. Third, I love the idea that there are no branches, roots, etc... 

 

And lastly, to me, there was this idea of equating our family to ornaments. As in, the people in our lives - our family - make our lives more beautiful, just like ornaments make a Christmas tree beautiful. The ornaments are what makes a Christmas tree a Christmas tree. Without them, it's just a tree. A beautiful tree, self-sufficient in its own right, of course, but not a Christmas Tree. And, in my head at least, the people we consider family, well, they are who make our lives have meaning. They are what life is about. (Does that even make any freaking sense? It does in my head at least, ha!)

 

So, this is what we ended up with.  



 

 

 

The back was covered with pictures of different important people and times in the kid's life, including his birthday, his Adoption Day, visits with his birth family, etc... We also traced each of the four of our hands in our favorite colors, stacked them (hubby's on bottom, going up in size) and wrote our names and birthdates on them.

 

All in all, though I still think the project was stupid, and I still don't get the reason for doing it, I am satisfied with how it turned out. And the kid is happy with it. So I'm happy.

 

 

Today's Lesson: Some of the ornaments in our lives are broken, scratched, missing parts or pieces. Certainly none of them perfect. But when we look at the tree as a whole, it's beautiful, even in its state of imperfection. I am beyond grateful for my tree and ornaments. Merry Christmas, all!

Christmas Moments

Even though life really has been crazy and I didn't (of course) get half the stuff done at Christmas that I wanted, we have had a few fun holiday activities.

 

 

A friend of my mom's owns a local tree farm. We've been going there and cutting down our own tree for several years. We've been there in all kinds of weather (rain, snow, sleet on year - that was awful!). This year it was perfect weather, imo. Cool enough that it felt like Christmas was on its way, warm enough that the 30 minutes it took to find the tree didn't leave us with ice cube hands. E just wanted to be carried and kept saying, "ride in a Boba???". The kid, of course, was running around and didn't stay still long enough for me to take a picture of him.

 

The kid and I had our first "official" date. I bought tickets a few months ago for The Nutcracker. I was nervous about taking him as, well, he's not exactly known for sitting still for long periods of time. But, I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised! He was completely absorbed by the first act and hardly moved, much less spoke. Intermission, however, seems to have been his "done" point. He was squirmy and talkative the 2nd act. Although, to be honest, the 1st act is where most of the action and humor are. So, I guess I can see why the 2nd act didn't hold his attention quite as much. However, he told my mom a week later that he loved it and didn't even have words to describe it. So, sounds like a big win. I can't wait to take him to something else new!

 

 

Today's Lesson: They key to getting your 6yo boy to get excited about ballet, is to tell him that there will be "real teenage girls" dancing on that stage. He will be enthralled for at least 30 minutes.

Teaching Words

By the time the kid was 15 months, he was repeating - very clearly - absolutely everything we said. By the time he was 18 months, he was talking in not just sentences, but paragraphs. While I knew he was ahead of his development, language-wise, it's only in the last year, since baby E has hit and surpassed those ages, that this has been cemented for me.

Now, don't misunderstand, baby E is exactly where he should be language-wise. But that is, as I just described, way behind where the kid was. And, funny enough, I'm totally fine with that. Because, I mean, really, I can't imagine all the damn talking that would be going on otherwise. There would be no quiet around here ever.

Also, the kid was a tiny parrot, copying absolutely everything that came out of anyone's mouth (good, bad, and ugly). I had to curb my use of some of my favorite words (you know, the 4 letter ones), because he'd have copied those in a heartbeat, and then used them incessantly thereafter. For better or worse, I've been able to continue to use that potty mouth around baby E. And it's not been an issue in the least.

Until Thursday morning.

I was trying to clean up the craphole that is my house lately. And baby E disappeared and then I heard grunting (indicating he was starting to poop). I ran to him and used my fake excited voice, "come on, E, you're going to poop in the potty! Yay, like a big boy!!". And he was all, "NOOOOOOOOOO!" because that's his favorite word.

I sat him on the toilet and stepped out for less than 30 seconds to get rid of the wet diaper. When I walked back in, he was pulling a sopping wet washcloth out of the toilet. That had pee in it. Lots of pee. I grabbed him, and it. And then noticed a tooth brush in the toilet. And then a travel size tube of tooth paste. Both in the toilet. Covered in pee.

And then I said, not so under my breath, "son of a bitch".

And then he said, quite clearly, "NO son of a bitch, momma".

And I said, "I mean Merry Christmas".

And he said, "NO Merry Christmas. Son of a bitch, momma".

And, frankly, that about sums up where I am right now.

Also, if my toddler says "Son of a Bitch" to you, what he's really saying is "Merry Christmas".


Today's Lesson: We spend lots of time imagining and dreaming about all the awesome things our kids will say and do when they get older. And then sometimes, they surprise even us. Also, perhaps I should watch my potty mouth around my toddler.

Not just for me

I, like many of you, followed the news closely about the shooting in Newtown on the day it happened. I managed to be okay for the most part that day, following the developments closely, but not in tears.  Did I want to hug my kids close? Yes. But still I was okay, emotionally removed from the horror. Able to go about my day, knowing my babies were safe.

Until I read this post @ Adoption in the City

I've said before that one of the reasons open adoption is so important to us is because we want the boys' birth families to know that they're okay. More than that, we adamantly believe they have a right to that.

I can't imagine not knowing.  And not just when something like Newtown happens, but all the time. The walking down the street, not knowing if the little kid in front of you might be yours. Or reading about a kid in the paper who has won some kind of award and wondering. Seeing a child on the news died somehow and the punch to the gut, terrified that it's your child.  How painfully hard it must be to wonder. The strength it takes to do that. The strength it takes to live that every day.

It often hits me the different ways adoption is hard. But, this way, it's just not one I'd thought about. I hope the boys' birth families know that if something awful happened to either of them, we would let them know right away.

The night of the shooting, when I finally got home from work, I went into my sons' rooms, as I always do. Only this time when I pulled their covers up and kissed their sleeping heads, I did it not just for me, but for their birth families as well. I whispered that all of their parents love them, because it is what I know to be true.


Today's Lesson: The lessons we're presented with in life never stop. There are always more lessons to be learned.

Water, or balls, or some kind of analogy

I've been overwhelmed by life lately. Not the "I am going to lay down and die because I can't handle anything" kind of overwhelmed. More the, "I am holding my head above water - just barely - so fortheloveofbabyjesus please don't add another thing to my load" kind of overwhelmed. I've dropped many balls in order to accommodate the new ones. And some of those are really important balls.


Case and point, two weeks ago was my bff's birthday. I'm sure she thinks I've forgotten because I don't think I even managed to even send her a fb message to wish her a happy birthday, much less see her or even get her birthday present to her. Not that it's anything new - I have hardly seen her in the last several months. I wouldn't blame her in the least if she totally revoked the bff card. Honestly, as much as I've sucked as a friend lately, I think she should. (And hell, she may have but hasn't been able to see me to tell me!)


As much as I hate this - that I haven't seen her, or talked to her, or even sent her a freaking text message - I don't know what else to do. I don't know which other ball to drop. I'd actually planned to take the gift to her house on her birthday. But instead I ended up spending the day taking care of the kid and his now-glued together head. And then, as the days wore on, and crap kept getting in the way, I became embarrassed. Embarrassed that I hadn't talked to her, told her happy birthday, told frankly just her how much  I miss her. Because I know it's my fault.


It's an example of how chaotic things are right now. Heaven knows she's not the only one I've neglected, or let down in the last several months. Don't get me started on when my last actual conversation with hubby was. Or the last art project I did with the boys. Or the last time I called my mom to just see how her week has been. Or when I last made any attempts to talk with either of the boys' birth families. Much less spending time with any other friends. None of them have happened in ages.


I feel like I'm having to choose which really important things to slack on. Or, more accurately, I don't have time to really make a definitive decision, because the chaos is so complete, that I'm living in reactionary mode. 15 things come at me at once and I feel like all I can do are the things that are mandatory. Nothing else makes the cut. And that is not where I am most happy; it is not where I want to live. I can't even blame Christmas, because this was going on before the holidays even got close.

I feel stuck in a cycle. There's so much to do. There's just not time to do it all.


And so I bob up and down in the water. Hoping it will recede eventually, leaving me standing on my 2 feet once again.


P.S. Happy crazyass late birthday, dear friend. Please don't hate me. I love you!!

P.S. 2 - I have no idea why this whole post is highlighted white. Or why only this part isn't. Or how to fix it. Or really, energy to worry about it. Another thing for the "I don't have time to deal with this" list.




Today's Lesson: Finding balance is a great goal. It's also one of those things that goes on the "easier said than done" list. A list I don't have time to reference at the moment, I might add.

Senseless Violence, Daily

I don't know really how we talk to our kids about violence. All violence is in essence senseless. How do we explain such things to our children? Truly, I don't know. But what I do know is that these huge acts, they are rare, so, so very rare. And yet they have the ability to petrify us all.

Some days I think I'm jaded, desensitized. Not by violence in video games or on TV, because, honestly, I try to avoid those at all costs. But by the events that make the national news, such as Newtown. Or, perhaps, it's just that I just try to keep myself removed from them.

Because every day I see the effects of violence. I see the 2mon old in the PICU who was shaken and will likely never regain his vision or lose the seizures. I see the toddler with more broken bones than years. I see the child my son's age with an adult handprint across his face. I see the teenager, furious, whose experience has been that the world has allowed untold horrors to happen to her for years. I see them. Every day.

And these are the incidents of violence I have the hardest time explaining - to myself, much less to my children. The public (albeit so horrific) ones, those I can attribute to significant mental health issues of the assailant. Or guns that are too easily accessible. The ones I see daily though, for most of those, there is no explanation that allows me to feel any peace.

As many are questioning on FB "who kills kids?!!!", or "why would someone do this to innocent children??!!!", I keep thinking, lots of people. Every damn day. They may not take guns and kill 25 people in a public place, but people are beating and killing children every day in the US. Every. Fucking. Day.

And yes, I want you all to be upset and angry about the victims of Newtown. But I also want you to be upset and angry for daily victims of violence. Because it's happening. In the US. In your state. In your town. It's happening.

I don't say any of this to diminish the horror of Newtown, the deaths of the children, the grief of so many. I recognize the senselessness and awfulness of what happened. I can hardly imagine the pain of the parents, the other students, the first responders, the community. But I say it because the horror of being hurt is the daily reality of many children.

And so, as saddened as I am by this tragic, crazy shooting, worrying that something like this could happen to my children, or children I know, is not what will keep me awake at night. It is the faces of the children I see every day, they are the ones I worry about at night. They are the ones who I think about after they leave. They are the ones whose futures I fear for.

I don't know what you or I can do to stop things like Newtown from happening. But I do know there are a multitude of things I can do, you can do, to keep the children we see every day safe. And I guess... I think... I hope... that helping these children perhaps will help all of our hearts feel a little less helpless tonight.

And that is why I do the job I do. Because I have to do something. Because feeling helpless is simply not an option for me.


Today's Lesson: Don't accept that simply because someone is a child's parent she has the right to do with that child what she pleases. Look for signs of being overwhelmed in new (all!) parents. Do your damnedest to make sure your children and the children around you are only left in the care of competent, responsible, non-violent caretakers. Remember, children need a village. To raise them. To keep them safe. To love them. Our children - all of them - are the responsibility of all of us.

(Not at all) Fun Family Outing

There's this lights display around here, where you drive through this big park, and they have lights up all over the place. There are hundreds of cars, cruising along in line, going about 5mph, just enjoying the lights. Lots of people love it. As in, their Christmas simply isn't complete without their family trek to see the lights. It sounds quite lovely.

So, the year before last, we loaded up the SUV with me, hubby, the kid, baby E (who was about 3mon old at the time) and my mom. It was nearing bedtime, but we assumed the kid would be so enthralled, that he'd be content. Or fall asleep. One of the two. And that baby E, whom I'd nursed right before we left the house, would sleep. In hindsight (which is, of course, always 20/20), this was stupid because the kid needs to go to bed on time, or he gets all crazy, ramped up. And baby E, at the time, hated the car. But, what can I say, we were super sleep-deprived. And just plain hopeful.

So, we're driving along, everyone is fine. I'm not particularly impressed with the lights, but they're fine. Then, out of the blue, hubby slams on the breaks, throws out a quick, "I'm going to vomit" and jumps out of the car, running away. I'm all, "WTF just happened???!!!!". But, as we'd been told "Do.Not.Stop.The.Car.Under.Any.Circumstances!" when we entered the park, I jump out, run around to the driver's seat, and start driving. Wondering, of course, where the hell my husband had just gone.

Baby E, who realized at that moment that the vehicle had stopped, was reminded that he did, in fact, detest the car. So he started screaming. And the kid realized that he was both tired and also unimpressed with the lights. So he started whining.

And all I could do was drive.

Eventually I found a little parking lot to pull into. Even though we were not supposed to stop. At.All.

The kid was then saying he had to pee. And baby E was full out screeching. So, my mom took the kid to pee. The parking lot was conveniently in front of a bathroom. Yay! It was locked. Serious boo.  So they found a tree. Awkward.

I got E out and tried to nurse him in the front seat. But he was way too beyond pissed off to nurse at that point. So I called hubby, you know, to figure out where the hell he'd ended up in the 1200+acre park. He said he'd vomited a couple of times and was feeling much better. So he was walking along the road, headed our direction. People were giving him odd looks. I assured him they were just worried he was going to try to carjack him or something. You know, 'cause he looks so threatening. And that, fortheloveofallthingsholy he needed to get his ass to the car before momma losthershitforreal.

I finally got baby E latched about the time the kid came back from peeing on a a tree. We had to wait several more minutes for hubby to catch up to us.

And then I was faced with a quandary. I always have my kids in their carseats when the car is moving at all. But I could not stomach the thought of baby E screaming anymore. So, did I continue to nurse him while we're driving, or put him back in the carseat and listen to him. My ears - and sanity - won.

So, we're driving down the road, I'm nursing E in the front seat, the kid's bopping all around the back seat, because clearly he wasn't having any part of putting his seatbelt back on if E wasn't in the carseat. Hubby's face was still green and he kinda smelled like puke. My eyelid was twiching and I had a massive headache. Through gritted teeth,I said to him, "There is no way in hell we're ever going back there." Hubby: "No, absolutely no way in hell."

Guess where we're going this weekend? Sweetbabyjesus, pray for us.


Today's Lesson: Never say never.

White Christmas. Or was it gray?

I was driving to work today. It's been raining here, I swear, for like 40 days and nights. I mean, maybe it's just been 4 days and nights. But, seriously, it feels like 40. Particularly since it's December and all. I mean, it's not like we usually have snow in these parts this time of year. It's just that we don't generally have thunder storms. Or my crocuses and tulips popping up. Crazy confused flowers.

At any rate, I'm driving to work. I hear the tail end of the weather report on the radio and am reminded that last night, on the news, the weather dude said we could get flurries today. And, while I'm not crazy about snow, I am excited that it's not rain.

So, I'm sitting at a light, bopping along to the music now on the radio when I see them. Flurries! On my windshield. How exciting! Snow, just a little, enough to maybe be pretty. Enough get my boys all excited. Hum, not very much. Oh, wait, there's a few more!

The car in front of me starts to move. The light's changed to green. My windshield is assaulted by the driver's cigarette smoke, billowing out of the driver's window. And I smell it. Ew. I so detest that smell.

Then I notice more flurries. Just a couple. Just on the left side of the win shield. Again. Right where they others had hit. I look and there are no spots on any other part of the windshield. Or the other windows of my car.

And then I realize they're probably not so much flurries. They're probably cigarette ashes.

Bah Humbug.


Today's Lesson: Sometimes it really is more pleasant to keep your head in the sand, ostrich. Just let the ashes be snow. You'll be happier that way.

A Ghost Child

Mel over at Stirrup Queens wrote a beautiful post recently, about her ghost child. It's haunting, and perfectly describes something I've been trying to articulate for myself of late. Please go read it. Then come back.

For those of you who don't follow directions thus didn't go read the post, Mel talks about a recent family trip where she was followed by a ghost child. A child who is only a possibility. Or perhaps, a child who is no longer a possibility. She's reminded that because that child doesn't physically exist, this trip was possible for her family. But also that the carrying of this ghost child prevents her from fully participating in the experience with her family. (Or at least that's what I took from her words.)

I've been grappling with my own ghost child recently. She's reflected in the questions others have started asking about whether we're considering a 3rd child. She's waiting to be nursed as we move towards what feels like baby E starting to wean. She's there, watching, as I wonder what to do with all the things baby E is outgrowing. She's there in the night, when I am startled awake by a newborn's cries. I feel her weight on my chest when I see a friend carrying her newborn in the Moby wrap.

And she is always a she. The dresses. The hair bows. The girly-ness of her. It's painfully palpable at times. She is painfully palpable at times. A shadow. A possibility. A ghost. A question. A maybe.

She's there. Waiting. Waiting for us to decide whether or not she will be. Always there.


Today's Lesson: Sometimes others are better at giving words to our thoughts than we are ourselves.

Glued

And then, right after I declared us sick-y free...and nearly dared the fates to give us anything else, the kid fell at school (thanks to a kid who slung a swing at him, hitting him in the head and making him fall to the ground, landing on his head). And got a good sized laceration on his head. Fortunately we avoided the ED and the pediatrician was able to glue it together. 

 

After he stopped screaming. While I was holding him immobilized. Because he was TERRIFIED of the electric razor. So SCREAMED. And then TERRIFIED of the gauze.  So SCREAMED. And then TERRIFIED of the soap. So SCREAMED. And then TERRIFIED of the glue. So SCREAMED.

 

I'm not sure who was more traumatized - the kid or me. Or who was more irritated - the pediatrician or me. Needless to say, it was fun for us all.

 

And now the kid has a lovey bald spot on his curly head.

 



 

 

 

 

Today's Lesson: Holding down your child, forcing him to do something, even when you know it's something that has to be done, something that's in his best interest, well, it hurts a momma's heart like no other. 

Missing

I've no good reason for my absence from this blog (and yes, a week and a half is an absence, for me at least). I mean, I have several reasons, but nothing big so much.

We've had about 6 weeks of one or more of us being sick. Finally, I think we're all well And so help me if I just jinxed us. I mean, really. I will lose my shit if there is any more sick at our house in the next 2 months.

My work schedule continues to be difficult and irregular, meaning I'm working more nights that normal. Much of that has been self-imposed due to childcare issues. Hoping it will improve now that baby E is back with our regular (and much beloved) sitter/friend.

The kid's behavior has improved somewhat in the last week or so. Probably because he's finally not sick anymore. And we finally had a frost that killed the evil ragweed. Which means that his asthma is finally gone for this season. So he's sleeping at night and off the asthma meds.

I seem to have acquired a bit of the old Christmas spirit this year. Not sure where it came from, but I'll take it. And hope it sticks long enough to actually get me through Christmas. Which would be a Christmas miracle in and of itself.

Also, we did the kid's Family Tree project. It turned out not too bad. I promise to do a post soon including pictures of the results.

At any rate, this is all I've got right now. I'm in a place where I don't really have the energy to form full, coherent posts. Lots of one- or two-liners that are good starts to posts, but the things never seem to finish themselves up. Hopefully soon I'll get some inspiration. Or direction. Or energy. Or something.


Today's Lesson: Sometimes, even to those of us who talk a lot, words are not forthcoming. Even when we have stuff to say.