I wrote a more interesting post in my head on the way home, and now that I finally sat down to write, it's gone. Alas.

I left at 8:15 this morning and got home at 7:30 tonight. There aren't many days I'm away from my house for that long. It felt like midnight by the time I pulled into the driveway, but it was a good day. I had that training today, remember? Every parent should learn about applied behavior analysis. I mean that honestly. Learn how to recognize antecedent - behavior - consequence and the functionality of a behavior. Learn about reinforcing positive behavior and replacing inappropriate behaviors with appropriate ones. We're all doing it anyway - every single parent of a two year old is constantly dealing with shaping behaviors, so why not learn how to do it better? Seriously. Find a behavioral analyst and ask when their next training is. It's free and your child will make more sense. Not logical sense, but Skinner sense, and that's something. All day long I kept thinking of examples from Asher and Silas. Is feeding Silas in the middle of the night reinforcing him to wake up in the night because it's comforting, or is he just hungry? (I think he's hungry, so I've decided not to push it, but how do I know, really?) Also, why am I making such a big deal about certain behaviors with Asher? Is this really something I need him to learn? This is what I've been thinking about all day.

After training we went up to my parents' house for dinner, and ya'll, my dad really could open a restaurant. I tell him that three or four times a year, but he always says a restaurant is too much work - he likes being retired. But if my dad ever offers to cook for you, don't turn him down. It will be the best (fill in the blank, though I bet he grills something - tonight it was shrimp and barbeque) you've ever eaten. Ever.

There is a theme in my life right now (highlighted by the flying zebras, believe it or not) of finding contentment in less-than-perfect days. The truth is that I love my life and don't want to be doing anything else. So why is it that two small children who refuse to nap can leave me feeling unravelled? That makes no sense. They are not robots or Pavlov's dogs, and my satisfaction in life should not be measured by their mood. That is really easy to say here - with everybody tucked in for the night - but harder to mean when both kids are acting out/ screaming/ not sleeping/ needing my attention simultaneously. I want to be more calm, even in the tyranny of the urgent. That's my goal.

Brian found a grasshopper in our living room blinds last night. First of all, I don't know where I thought grasshoppers went in the winter, but aren't they supposed to be somewhere else in February? So this little rogue grasshopper made a break for it and, what? Came inside? Then changed his mind, and tried to escape? Through the blinds? That's very odd.

Since I'm so fried by behavioral analysis that I am now collecting data on grasshoppers, maybe it's best if I just hit publish and be done with it.

Good night.