Well, hello there. It's been awhile.
I've been on vacation, which was great, apart from the fact that it coincided with my child's decision to stop sleeping through the night, because that is boring, and why be boring when you could get up five times and play with your parents at 1:00am? Lovely. I believe the 'nine-month sleep regression' perfectly coincided with 'two weeks out of town sleeping in the pack-and-play,' which also matched up with 'staying in other people's homes/hotels/cabins wherein we are trying not to wake up everyone else at 3:30 in the morning,' which meant that I nursed her to sleep and then she decided that was too fun to give up.
We are working on that one. It's getting better. Kind of.
In other exciting baby news, we have a crawler. Who immediately went for the lamp cord, two outlets (already outfitted with outlet plugs, fortunately), sixty-five small pieces of lint/dust/grass/othercrap on the carpet, and who would much, much rather rip up magazines that play with the family room full of baby toys immediately available to her. This seems just about right to me, and also a lot of work.
And I let her fall off the bed. BY ACCIDENT, PEOPLE, nobody panic. But wait, it gets better: this happened at my in-laws house. After, by the way, we had been video-chatting with them the week before and she choked on a piece of carrot just as I was bragging that she was doing such a great job of gumming the (very, very, very cooked) (except for that piece, apparently) baby carrots that week. So my slightly overprotective mother-in-law is watching as we pound her on the back and (quickly, thank heavens) the carrot piece comes flying out, and then less than a week later I'm changing her in their guest room and I turned around for TWO FREAKING SECONDS and she rolled off the bed.
Instant appearance of mother-in-law at bedroom door: "Is everything okay?"
Mother of the Year, right here.
Also, I got my period a few weeks ago, for the first time in eighteen months. Which means that we are officially Trying again, although for now, that simply translates to "not doing anything to stop getting pregnant," and our chances of that working are slim to none. If I were a normal fertile person, I would not choose to get pregnant while parenting a nine-month old, but I guess 'timing between kids' is yet another thing infertility takes away from you. Of course, we'd be delighted by a surprise. But we'll just see how it goes for a few months and then evaluate.
So, there you have it. If you'll excuse me, I need some coffee.