Friday, February 25 2022

bedtime, ukraine, and a chicago party

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Dear Journal,

Good morning, everybody. Happy Friday. I'm doing my best to perk up this morning, but as bright and inviting as this dining room feels, I have the prevailing urge to climb back into bed and keep sleeping.

It's very bright in this room. We got more snow last night, but sadly it wasn't enough to force the hand of Rodney's school into a snowday. So life goes on - we have code to write, emails to read, and - thank goodness - plenty of coffee to drink.

Sip. Today's banner image was taken from last night's bedtime, so I guess I've got sleep on the mind. Before turning in for the night, Rodney and I read a few pages from this week's library book. It's a dragon information manual taken from the How to Train Your Dragon universe. Cuddled under Rodney's blanket, I blithely recited the arbitrary statistics for strength, speed, and magic level of the various dragons in the movie. Hearing we were reading a book, Minnie nosed her way through Rodney's half open door and joined us in bed. She was patient enough to give Rodney a quick snuggle in bed before scampering back down the stairs to play.

Here's another picture from bedtime. So long as Rodney's room isn't an utter disaster, he can usually manage the pre-bedtime clean-up by himself. While I wait for him to finish, I sit across the hall in my office chair and watch the animals, who get active at that time in the evening. Glassy probed his terrain with long, hairy, dark legs.


I watched him dance and wag his butt across his forest floor. He was using invisible web to tie down some of the loose moss by his water bowl. I cracked open his lid to water his plant. Annoyed, he moseyed back into the comforting darkness of his hallow coconut house.

Suddenly, I heard a small scrape coming out of Ducky's enclosure. Noticing a glimmer of movement in her warm hide, I crouched down at eye level. I saw Ducky's pale skin pulled back over her face like a hoodie - her newer, more colorful self beginning to emerge. I took a video to show Marissa. We had yet to see her molt and were starting to get worried, so even though it was kind of a gross scene, it was still a moment to celebrate.

This is another one taken from bedtime, only it was during my bedtime.


What the heck is Miles doing up past midnight? Marissa found him in his wet crib, his diaper removed and thrown across the room. I had to occupy him in our bedroom while she changed out his sheets. That marked the second accident of the day - regrettably that morning he gave us "variation number 2", if you catch my drift. Making him sleep in onesies seems to help, but we only have so many. If we're running behind on the wash, we just have to leave it to chance. We made a bet that after a whole week of sleeping constrained in onesies that Miles would give up on his favorite hobby of ripping his clothes off in the night, but we were wrong.

So there we were. While Marissa changed his sheets out, Miles and I carried on a bizarre babbling conversation in bed. Once he warmed up, he freely chatted about pizza, dogs, and dinosaurs (he calls them DA-SA-SORES).

This picture isn't from bedtime, but it makes me laugh.


This happened just before I headed upstairs to start my work shift. I flipped the blanket over Ollie's head, and he stayed frozen in that position for a few minutes, like he was expecting something else to happen.

Yesterday was kind of a strange day. We heard that Russia invaded Ukraine. My teammates that joined morning stand-up were quiet, and I could tell by the drained look in everyone's face that they had been staring at news. "Do your best today, and go for a walk, lie down, or hang with your family if you feel mentally overloaded," said my boss with some parting words. I quietly hacked on code the rest of the day.

Marissa and I chatted about it over lunch. It feels really stupid that in modern times, one country would invade another. "It feels like something that would happen playing a video game," said Marissa.

The whole thing makes you wish you could ask a guy like Putin "Why now? Isn't there already enough shit happening in the world?"

It feels kind of callous and insincere to share reflections from my cozy dining room chair on the other side of the world, so we'll just leave it at that.

In the meantime, we have daily distractions. Things like kids, animals, and hockey games are like therapeutic time wasters to get you through scary news headlines. We still have a hockey game to attend this weekend, and Rodney, none the wiser about international turmoil, is still pretty fired up about it.

While in a 1-on-1 call with my friend Fong, Rodney poked his head into my room to greet her. "Tell her where we're going this weekend," I goaded him.

"We're. Going. To. A..." Rodney paused, drawing as much showmanship as possible out of his moment in the spotlight. Finally he leaned in close to the camera to finish his grand announcement.

"A CHICAGO PARTY," he said confidently. Fong tried to mask her confusion with a smile. I shook my head in disappointment.

"A hockey game, dude," I corrected him. "It's kids night at the United Center."

I don't know what a "Chicago Party" is, but I guess that sounds pretty fun too.

Thanks for stopping by today. Have a great Friday, everyone.