Ever since I can remember, I have dreamed about my period the night before it arrived. Especially when I was off the pill, this was a handy consideration my subconscious showed me.
Last night? No period dream, just a nightmarish, "Brazil" style melding of Black Hearts in Battersea and Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang. Today at work? Thanks for nothing, brain! Better luck next time.
These days I am drinking out of Nalgeen sippy water bottles, since the hope is they get dirty more slowly than glasses. Blake recognizes it as a water vessel, and he is accustomed to asking me for a drink if I have forgotten his water dish. He pranced up to it and bowed, so I removed the top--a sipper in the screw-on cap with a half-dome meant to keep the sipper clean--and poured water into the half-dome from the bottle.
He eyed it and me and it and me again. This was Different and Strange. Finally he gave it a try, and ended up drinking quite a bit, drop by drop (and I drank the rest). And then he helped me pick out pencils to color on birthday cards. He really is the sweetest cutest boy.