Wash Dishes.
Do Laundry.
Put Away Laundry From Monday, and also from Last Thursday.
Figure out how to make sausage out of a beef heart.
Remember: that Ben told me not to tell him (“or just lie”) if I am cooking with organ meat, so that he won't have to know he's eating it.
Choose: not to ponder the ethical implications of the previous point.
Remember: Jem will not be scarred for Life despite the fact that he is stomping around making loud harrumphing sounds like a Proverbial Sullen Schooled Teenager, after I told him Not To Wake Eliza for the thirtieth time this morning.
Remember: The dirty looks he's giving me (along with big stomps whenever I turn my back) are simply an expression of how he is Exremely Fed Up With Me and Wishes His Life Were Entirely Different Right Now, and that he wants me to Pay Attention to Him and Take Him Fun Places and Stop Whining About Being Tired and How Challenging It Is to Feed His Baby Sister. No, there's no need for me to Worry about this today at ALL: I'll just put it on tomorrow's To Do list...
Remember (additional note to self for tomorrow): it is not a Healing and Soothing practice to utter Blasphemous Words to “start” the “day,” even if the “day” begins close to 5am, and “start” refers to “the fourth time she's woken up during one 'night's sleep.'”
Read some of “The Patchwork Girl of Oz” to our boys, who daily remind me that I “never” read enough.
Research (for the approximately 7,777th time): “pediatric constipation/diarrhea.”
Hope Fervently: that my brilliant children's poor epigenetic/gut flora/hormonal luck does not in any way indicate the potential future experience of any of their possible future cousins.
Recognize: that my children's health issues are making it less and less likely that they will have any measurable quantity of future cousins some day.
Ponder: can I further optimize Eliza's Feeding Plan, begun two weeks ago (nearly) and involving homemade meat stock, peeled and cooked and mushed organic vegetables, pastured organic ground-up meats, probiotic ferments and supplements, pumped breastmilk, and the Highest Quality Fats? (This plan definitely seems to be helping with her reflux, thus allowing her to breastfeed more, but also appears to be a tricky transition for her stomach--and despite one tantalizing and fantastic and amazing night when she only woke up one time, The Plan is otherwise making no difference in her Terrible Horrible No-Good Very-Bad Wakefullness.)
Decide: since the Troubleshooting Magic Wand of Perfection has been out of stock at Amazon for months now, the answer to the question raised in the previous paragraph is NO.
See: if Jem's brand-new, gone-missing socks are hiding, as our neighbor suggested they might be, underneath the disgusting lint trap in one of the dryers.
Remember: to Reassure My Spouse that I don't actually want him to feel Guilty when he leaves the house to go earn money for us during the day. My apparent desperation and feelings of exhaustion, coupled with a desire to change careers (expressed during moment of Venting), are simply Feelings, which cannot be relied upon for anything except Solid Notifications that it's time to stop in the middle of grinding a beef heart in the Cuisinart and have a bit of a cry.
Decide: whether Ben's small but market current increase in Anxiety and Obsessiveness is worthy of my increasing levels of angst concerning same.
Remind myself: We are in Survival Mode _still_, gosh darnit, and while I REALLY hate to break promises (especially now that I've compiled a whole list of Fascinating Topics that you have all challenged me to write about), it is now pretty clear that currently, I'd better allow my Very Limited Writing Time to be filled by small updates concerning Parenting and Gut Flora...