Food on the Floor

The stages of Desmond's dietary development can be measured by the objects found underfoot. Right now we're at the crushed or mushy Cheerio stage, which leaves me rubbing the bottom of one foot against the calf of the opposite leg trying to brush the thing off. He grabs them by the handful, but only about a quarter reach his mouth, and even less make it into the digestive system, spit out as they are.
We're also still in the teething phase, which brings with it small puddles -- or more like Pollackian drizzles of drool dripped across the hardwood floor.
We're long past the era of breastfeeding that left white splashes on the ground every time the baby cried. Or at two hour intervals, whichever came first.
We're about to enter finger food land -- which will probably just be a messier version of Cheerio-dom.
We almost got into a teething biscuit phase today but, after a messy five minute try-out, we quickly reconsidered.

A slice in the life of . . .

To fill in some lost time, I will quickly describe the routine of life as a parent in Sacramento:
1) Desmond is apparently a morning person. He wakes up between 5:30 - 6:30. Best not to get me started on the topic of sleeping, cause I'll be likely to go on a bit. "Sleep training" in an apartment right next to another apartment in the summer when windows are open. No verb here to complete the sentence.
2) Dave wakes up and gets Desmond out of bed, changes a diaper, makes coffee and does whatever dishes are in the sink. (sigh!)
3) I get up around 7 to take over while Dave gets ready for work.
4) He leaves and Desmond and I stare at each other -- he with a toothy, drooly grin. I with puffy eyes and morning breath.
5) If it's a day for "Stroller Strides," the mommy exercise group in the park, I sit Desmond down on his play pad while I rush around getting things ready to go.
6) He takes a bottle, maybe drifts off for a half hour nap. Or we hit the pavement and are out being social and healthy.
7) A long stretch of unscheduled time that includes eating lunch, napping, crying, playing, walking, laughing.
8) Dave gets home at 5:10 and I either head out to the cafe to study, or Dave and I do something like play tennis while Desmond makes eyes at passers-by.
9) Feed / Bath / Story / Bed. Usually bedtime is undramatic, the way I like it.
10) Dave and I eat dinner, watch something either trashy, interesting, or stupid on tv/dvd.
11) Bedtime for Dave around 9:30. For me, 10:30.
Typically.

How to Write a Dissertation

I have no idea. Not the way I'm doing it.

Dave and I have a not-so-strict routine. On Mondays/Wednesdays when Dave gets home from work at 5, I go off to a cafe to get some reading or writing done. And on "furlough Fridays," I'll try to get a good 4-5 hours of work in. So far this has produced a photobook of baby pictures I ordered through QOOP, and a paragraph of quotes I should use.

In the meantime, Desmond has two teeth and will crawl any day now. Season 3 of Mad Men started last night. And temperatures reached the upper 90s in the Sacramento region.