Remember how well I said Chloe was doing with the night-sleeping thingee? Yeah, not so much anymore. Claud and I have been shuffling from room to room on an hourly basis the last few nights because Chloe's gastro-intestinal and/or nervous system sending audible alerts. There's usually a few minutes of confusion, followed by some mild-cursing, then one or both of us travels the 3,417 miles from our bedroom to hers to pick her up and let her scream in our ears. She also has one volume with no modulation whatsoever, so you can imagine how sleep-deprived brains react to that. We're ready to start filling her bottles with Jägermeister, which has helped me sleep in the past...as well as make me both handsome and bullet-proof.
I worked from home today to give Claud an extra set of hands for once. With Chloe degrading into high-maintenance mode, it was pretty clear she was becoming more than a one person job. It's not easy to type urgent e-mails with a 7-week old kicking you in the chest, but I did my best. Poor Claudia doesn't have much time to catch a nap, and is eager to begin working out again. Both Chloe and Claudia are checked out in their respective bedrooms right now, leaving me to either update the budget request template for 2006 funding or escape from killer zombies on the Xbox. Sadly, it's going to have to be the former, at least until one of them has a breakdown (in 5...4...3...2...1...gotta go)