Yesterday I was whining about El Niño not eating. Well, things have improved dramatically since I wrote that. All of a sudden, he decided to eat all the cereal in his snack trap, and half a pear, and half an Odwalla bar. I was so happy, I figured that was his dinner. But no, he devoured spaghetti with meat sauce at dinnertime and impatiently grunted at me when it was all gone, because I was such a spaz I didn't realize he'd want some of the broccoli on my plate too! I'm happy to record for posterity that we seem to be over the hump and he's back to his normal eating habits. He's even sipped some more of the yoghurt milk in his straw cup, so there is hope for some gentle, partial weaning to occur.
Having learned my lesson above, I guess I should now complain about the fact that my beloved Mo is currently working a job that uses less than 3% of his brain capacity and pays two-thirds what he was making at his previous job, the one he got laid off from. My husband is brilliant, hard-working and an organizational wonder. I wish the currently SUCKY Portland job market would cough up a job for him that was challenging and offered better compensation. He's looked and looked, sent his resume out so many times... Please. He deserves better.
And don't get me started on my car. Mo's got it as MacGyver'd as his mechanical skills have allowed, and it's running sorta ok. But it seriously needs some professional mojo, which we currently can't afford (that's where good job compensation comes in handy).
I should probably quit now before I spill all my gripes.