One Day At A Time, Sweet Jesus

Dear Laney,

When I was little, there was a TV ad for a gospel collection from K-Tel Records that played all the time. They would play ten-second snippets of all the songs while the song titles scrolled up the screen. One of the songs was "One Day At A Time, Sweet Jesus," as performed by Christy Lane. Since the title is the only part of the song they played, those are the only lyrics I know, but I've been singing them to myself A LOT this week. Sometimes I even do it with my hands in the air; people who didn't know me better might mistake me for Pentecostal.

Your dad and I are both working at maximum capacity. This week, I've had to do some writing and research for that TV show, I've been busy casting a project for the U.S. Army, and I'm producing a web video for a men's underwear company. Yesterday, I had a meeting via Skype with my friend Brian, and he said, "Are you not going to do your hair today?" Sometimes I wish it was possible to reach through a computer screen and throttle the people on the other side.

Your dad has been going to school and trying to write his thesis while working his regular day job. I should report that things are going well for him at work; I know this, because yesterday he came home with this "Certificate of Merit." I'm super proud of him, but the wording on the bottom makes me laugh because it basically says, "We didn't think he knew anything, but it turns out he does."

In the middle of all this, we've been trying to spend as much quality time with you as possible, and I'm finding it the greatest challenge of my life to try to be a good mom and a good employee on the same day. So...I haven't been blogging much this week, because I've been playing with you as much as possible, working as much as feasible, and trying not to fall asleep in the middle of dinner. Why would I fall asleep in the middle of dinner, you ask? Oh, because you caught a terrible, wheezy, coughy, honking cold this week and haven't been sleeping since you can't breathe out of your nose.

And when baby ain't sleepin', ain't nobody sleepin'.

Also, it seems that some other kid came into your daycare yesterday with a case of head lice. My brain can't quite process that crisis yet, so we'll just cross that infestation if/when we come to it.

So far, the highlight of my week has been convincing your dad to shave his beard. To entertain me, he did it in stages, so I got to meet his alter ego, Chester P Underhill III, and his banjo-pickin' great-grandson, Billy Ray.

Sometimes, it's the little things that get you through.

Love,

Mom