So, I live in Iowa

It is interesting to read the last post I wrote (almost a year ago, sheesh). I had NO idea that in just a few months after writing that I'd be moving to Iowa. No idea at all.

I think I am getting more comfortable with uncertainty. The other day Michael and I were talking about where we'll live next. We are both okay with Iowa, but just don't feel at this point that this is our forever place. Now that we've moved here, moving other places seems much more possible. Our dream, or one of them anyways, would be to live outside the US for some length of time. I'd love to give Miles the chance to experience life in other places and there is so much of the world I'd like to see.

But for now, we live in Iowa, in a creaky old farm house that-at this very minute-has a raccoon trapped on the roof and frogs in the puddles in the driveway and a mouse somewhere on the second floor. We are *thisclose* to opening our own petting zoo.

Too much

Sometimes it just feels like there is too much to be worried about right now. The economy (both nationally and personally), the election (please, please, please no Palin), my job (secure but I'm bored), Mr. Monkey's job (not boring but next semester looks really uncertain right now).



I'm torn between wanting to write lists and plans of attack or sitting in front of the computer for hours, eating dark chocolate raisins, staying up when I should be sleeping.



Mr. Monkey said he was feeling disequilibrium last night. I think I'd be feeling that to if I wasn't so numbed by celebrity gossip websites and dark chocolate.

My boy

Ways in which the little monkey is just like me:

1. He likes to sleep in. Given the chance, he'll usually wake up around 6 or 7am, have a quick feed and then snuggle back in until 9am. This is excellent.

2. He really likes to sleep in the middle of the big bed, surrounded by pillows. I love this to, though I have retrained myself to sleep only on one side so as to allow Mr. Monkey a couple of inches of sleeping space

3. He has hands and feet that seem frigid to Mr. Monkey

4. He loves, loves, loves the water

5. He does not like socks and has never worn them a day in his little short life. I've worn them quite rarely since he's been born and I am happy about that.

Ways in which my son is NOT like me:

1. He has, on more than one occasion, peed on his own head and then smiled about it.

Love

Real men aren't afraid of a little open mouth baby kissing

Miles in his office

Sometimes I look exactly like this at work too.

Monkey buns

The little drunken monkey