Greetings from Needles, California! Otherwise known as the desert. Not dessert, but desert.
I have not taken any pictures in a week.
We Cecilia is dealing with Perioral Dermatitis yet again and we are anxiously awaiting for her face to heal. It’s frustrating and not something I care to share at this point. So, I am using photos from our July 2016 getaway into the mountains of Beach, NC. and listening to Phantogram.
Phantogram…thank you…now I’m in a good mood.
I have a somewhat embarrassing faux pas to admit, but if you know me, it probably won’t come as a shock. Somewhere along our travels, I have added a month to our journey. So I need to rectify my calculations from a previous post. We have been on the road for 157 Days for a total of 5 months. There, I feel better. On December 10th, it will officially be 6 months.
157 days isn’t quite the same as 184 days I had written earlier. I kept counting the month of May. We didn’t even get this beast until June.
Lately it seems a lot of my posts are about sleep or lack there of…this one is no different.
I had a difficult time falling asleep last night…I was so excited about being in warm weather and having a great campsite. And if I’m being completely honest, I had a difficult time putting my phone down. Damn Pinterest. So I made an executive decision to sleep with Cecilia. She’s a really good cuddler right now. It hasn’t always been that way, so I enjoy the little opportunities to snuggle up with her.
So I contorted myself to fit inside her single bunk just the way I do twice a day, every day for nap and bedtime. As usual, I fail to remember and correctly estimate the closeness of the top bunk. As I’m taking my right hand off the top, like clockwork (not cockwork as spell check wants me to write, which, by the way, isn’t even a word spellcheck inventor people) I bump the right side of my head. Last night was no exception. I pressed on the bump that has developed on my head like I do twice a day every day to try to relieve the pain. Once the pain had subsided, I settled downright beside her warm body. Her face was turned toward me and I bent my head down to smell her strawberry toothpaste breath. Totally worth the pain. It was wonderful. I took a deep breath, nestled close to her, and closed my eyes.
Unfortunately after the 4th time of being kicked in the legs and stomach, the 2nd time of being punched in the face with the backside of her hand, I decided to go back to my bed. In that moment, Greg happened to peek his head into her bunk looking for me. “Just checking on you” he whispered. I motioned that I was coming out. He gave me his hand to help me up, but it’s much easier if I just sort of fall out of the bed.
I like to slide my right leg out and plant my foot on the floor…followed by my right arm to brace myself and then I hike up my left leg to my chest and much like a glob of wet play-doh I just sort of flop onto the floor. Jello might be the better visual here folks. So let the sentence above read, much like a glob of jello, I just sort of flop on the floor. The dilemma I have with getting out of the bottom bunk is very similar to getting in. Clearly entering and exiting the bunks weren’t intended for a full-grown adult. Once in the bed though, it is quite comfy. At this point I am just trying to help my scalp/skull retain some of it’s natural shape.
Back to the adult bedroom.
The temptation to reach for my phone when I’m not even the slightest bit tired is so strong. I tell myself, “Just a couple of minutes on pinterest or reading the news” and before I know it, an hour has gone by. So, once I got back to bed, I chucked my phone into the bathroom and shut the door. And by chucked I mean I tried to gently throw it onto the counter, I usually have wicked aim, but missed it by about 4 inches hearing it flop onto the floor.
Fast forward to this morning and I wake up to…wanna guess? A cracked iphone screen you say?
And there in lies my rational for what my Monday might look like…a bit bleary.
No, just kidding. My screen didn’t crack. Are you kidding? I have to have a sheet of armer on that thing to withstand the beatings it recieves everyday from the Spranger girls.
Nope, it’s just a regular old Monday in the desert. Hope yours is a good one.