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My child has learned a new form of communication. Sign language.

I'm proud and excited and terribly frustrated all at the same time. He is incessantly beating his fists together in hopes of getting a snack.

Really it's ALL.THE.TIME

Like 5:15 this morning when he spotted yesterday afternoon's snack of goldfish still sitting in our bedroom. And then again at 6:30 when we were rushing out the door and he spotted brownies on top of the stove. I gave him his milk in an attempt to pacify him. He threw it across the kitchen. Hurled it really. This child is quite the Hercules.

Seriously?!? Am I supposed to feed him every time he does it?

And while we are on the subject of more, this is something I'd like more of-- time with my husband and my child.

Together. In our house. Just us. Together. Are you getting that "togetherness" has been rare for us lately? It has. Work separates us during the week and again on the weekends. For a gal who is used to her husbands undivided weekend attention, this new schedule has proven to be a rough adjustment. I yearn for him to be home more.