Three hours? Huh.

Brian took Elijah with him to D&D tonight, because I had a terrible day between migraine, joint pain, and Elijah's teething. I'd had plans to spend a lot of time focusing on Elijah and teaching him more signs and words and playing with him, and then I just plain couldn't, it was all I could do to keep him fed and vaguely occupied and try to eat something myself and not fall over. I was falling apart when Brian got home, so he plied me with Italian food (the migraine let up a little sometime during dinner, enough at least for me to think--the joint pain is still there at the moment, though) and then took the babyface away for the evening.

I had three hours to myself--that hasn't happened for a few months, since Aunt Dani took the boy while I was sick. And I couldn't exactly enjoy it then.

Three hours! It felt like longer, which is odd. Usually I'm desperate for more time, but this time I got to the point where I wanted my boys back. That's good. That's a turning point for me.

I had a clove, talked to my mom, tidied up some toys, had a bath and a shave, read a book, and watched more Supernanny. Seems like a lot. It was nice and relaxing and helpful and awesome.

And Brian returned with glorious stories of how much everyone loved Elijah and how well-behaved he was.

So a bad day turned into a good night.

Thank you.

Night.

Elijah is asleep, there's rain outside, Chris is watching TV in his room, Brian is watching anime with headphones across the room from me. The dogs are woofing quietly at the new neighbours who are very loud, and I am wallowing in my head pain, and having a midnight snack.

Midnight snack: Ibuprofen, vitamins, Sudafed, bread and cheese, and Function: House Call. Which is supposed to be honey green tea but tastes like libraries.

When I stood up to go get my midnight snack, I took three steps, swayed, sat down again. My migraine attacks have been weird lately--not nearly as frequent as they were before pregnancy, but more surprising. I used to have ample warning that one was coming, from significant aura. Now they come on much more quickly, and are more susceptible to light and sound than the old ones were.

Dinner was a surprising success; apparently an orange and some cajun seasoning on a chicken in the crock pot works well. We also had cheese to go with the potatoes and broccoli. It was quite good. And Elijah rejected chicken in favour of broccoli.

And after dinner, I had icecream with cream, because my grandfather and I were talking about how much we used to eat icecream, earlier, and how infrequently we do now. But I tend to be happier when I'm eating a lot of icecream, so perhaps I should get back to that.

The day's productivity continued: I packed three crates of books, two boxes of clothes, and one box of sheets. I may have done more as well, but the pain in my head is preventing memory from surfacing.

After dinner, we picked up Marcy to show her the new house, and mostly so she and I could smoke a couple of clove cigarettes and catch up a bit. It was good. It needs to happen sometimes.

And then babyface screamed the entire way home, which sure didn't help my head, or Brian's stress level. So now we're vegging.