Clio is currently raking her nails across the fabric of the portable crib in a fashion not dissimilar to a prisoner with a tin can playing the bars of his cell like an exceedingly annoying instrument. This causes me to psychically kick myself in the ass for packing her nail clippers somewhere I can't access because those talons have been causing trouble for the last couple of days. So the nails continue to scratch and her little babbles continue to bubble, all in an attempt to keep herself from drifting off to sleep, because, you know, sleeping is a huge waste of time as perceived by the mind of a one year old.
At her most recent check up her physician told me that she should be sleeping 10-12 hours at night with a long nap during the day. I could have laughed if not for the simple fact that I was exhausted from her apparent bottomless reserve of energy. 10-12 hours? Try 8...10 on a good day. And, as one might surmise, our recent upheaval and current vagabond status as we meander our way up California to our new home (by "new home" I mean the in-law's basement) in Portland, has only exacerbated the situation. Totally our fault and yet also totally unavoidable. One of Leif's coworkers told him, in explanation of how he moved from the east coast to Los Angeles with two very small children, that kids Clio's age are just like luggage. I beg to differ, unless you have the highest maintenance luggage known to mankind. In that case I am glad we only have the REI castoffs from their biannual Members Only Sale.
But aside from the sleeping, or lack thereof, issue and the intense dislike of the carseat issue, things have been moving along fairly well. We have been taking things s...l...o...w as to make the trip as painless as possible for the girl and as fun as possible for us.
Right now, as I type this and listen -finally- to Clio's soft snoring, we are in San Francisco. We spent the day riding the bus and wandering around the city with stops at the California Academy of Sciences and the Musse Mecanique. We love this city in a way that could best be described as the way a pimply pre-teen loves a Jonas brother. SF is way out of our league and we know that as a fact of life, surely as the earth circles the sun. We could only live here if we were ten years younger and ten times better dressed.
Tomorrow we head for Mendocino by way of Healdsburg to do some wine tasting. I assure you Clio will not be partaking in the wine tasting as she is our designated driver. Safe and sane, people, safe and sane.
And because I have not downloaded a single photo from our camera I leave you with some Instagram favorites of our trip thus far. For those of you who follow me (bree_rh) and/or Leif (lfhnsn) you've seen them all before but, hey, I hate to put something up without a little visual accompaniment. I'm a snob that way.