when the getting is good
C had Toastmasters this morning (a particular kind of crazy, which is getting up early to get ready and get out the door and then driving to a meeting to deliver a speech ... before work ... there was a time last week when she three Toastmaster meetings in the space of 24 hours) so it was just Oona and I, which is always extra fun, because it means getting her up and getting her changed and getting her dressed and getting her fed and getting her in her boots and parka and snowpants (!) and toque and scarf and mitts and getting her into the stroller and getting her not to whine about the mitten clips on her parka and getting her to daycare and getting her out of her toque and scarf and mitts and parka and snowpants (!) and filling her cubby with extra diapers and pants and underwear and signing her in and then trying to get away without her throwing a fit and then putting away the stroller in the outside locker and then walking to work. Wait eight hours, then repeat in reverse. And I wonder why I feel fuzzy after supper sometimes.