Jack is on Strike

Sleep strike, that is.  I don’t know why it is, but last night and then today’s nap, he is screaming the house down.  He’s grumpy as all hell during the day, too, which makes us crazy.  Today is one of those days I want to just sell him to the gypsies.  I tried rocking him, hugging him (and his THREE bears, the stuffed toys are multiplying), walking him around – all to no avail, so right now he’s in there screaming and I’m on the porch ignoring.  Sometimes it becomes a battle of wills, and I’m better at winning the battle if I can’t hear.

But it’s beautifully warm and sunny down here in our almost-tropical home.  I have mosquito bites.  The tropical plants are still withered from our one week of winter freeze, but all of Uptown New Orleans is out trimming back the dead leaves and hoping some survive.  For the past few days I’ve eaten every meal on the front porch patio table.  I drag out Jack’s high chair and say hello to our neighbors, their faces becoming familiar again after our month or so of staying indoors. I’m not sure if NOLA will keep treating us to this delightful spring weather, but it’s here now, and it makes riding my bike to and from school a treat instead of a chilly chore.

This afternoon we will be attending a little outdoor festival, complete with fair food and band.  I love daytime live music!  Jack loves it, too, though he’d love it more if he’d take a freaking nap already.  Patrick and I would both love a quiet rest, too.  I don’t know if we can take Grumpy McGrumperson anywhere public if he doesn’t get some sleep.  And Jack, too.  Ha, rimshot!