I warn you- this is going to be the classic stream of consciousness self-indulgent type entry that some diary connoiseurs like to rage against. But I'm operating on a serious sleep deficit and I'm allowed to be all about me sometimes. Especially in my own damn diary.

Ever since I returned to school full time the boy has decided to make up for any missed quality time during the night. He wakes up almost every hour wanting to nurse, play or just thrash about. He has worn a bald spot that wraps around his head like a reverse monk-cut. As a result, I am so completely exhausted I'm on the verge of dangerous. Seriously- I can't hold a conherent thought long enough to actually express myself with any intelligence whatsoever. Which is a problem when one is in a small and intimate doctoral program.

It's starting to really sink in that this boy is ours for life. It just blows my mind that he will grow and age and mature and he will hopefully still be here when I am long gone. I have met the person who is supposed to outlive me. I have met the person who will have important opinions about where I should spend my golden years. I suppose that is all too much of a burden for an individual who spends most of his time grabbing at shiny things and sucking on his bib, but I can't help but marvel at the beauty of it all.

In the past few weeks he's really become a joy to be around. He's learning to sit on his own, he likes to play with his toys, he laughs from time to time, and his smile is absolutely contagious. I love this creature more than I could possibly express.

That said, I wish this boy would just sleep more than a few hours at a stretch. My dreams have become very bizarre. The other night I dreamed that all my closest friends from the AIDS Ride had all continued on with me in the job for their doctorates. We were in this strange AIDS Ride PhD program, and we were pretty smug about being the only ones with the wherewithall to stick it out. It was completely wierd. Stephen, Laura and I were the last ones left of the whole family, and we were sitting around the staff table bitching about our dissertations.

And by the way- did I mention how bizarre it is to be talking about my own dissertation? Where did THAT come from?