Oh iPhone, oh iPhone, why do you burn through your battery so? You were fine just a few days ago. What have I done anger you in this way? I swear, all I did on Friday was download one app to help my nephew with his Flat Stanley project for school.
A visit to the Genius Bar at “Steve’s Store” suggested that the problem was more likely hardware than software. I tried doing what the fellow there suggested; restore the system from backup to clean out any software that is stuck or settings that may be bad. So far, that’s proved fruitless.
In my mad dash to make the appointment (parents of toddlers seem to so rarely be on time for anything), I lost the soft case for my Ray-Ban Sunglasses (from Costco). It fell out of my pocket. Now I down both an iPhone and useful case for my sunglasses.
Perhaps I should just go Amish. Hats. Beards. Mighty fine barns. Somehow I don’t think the wife will go for that.
I shared this with a few folks on FB earlier today, and I thought I’d preserve it here:
I gave Baby G. a grilled cheese sandwich and a few tater tots for dinner tonight. We were both tired, him from a a nap strike yesterday and me, from well, everything. All went well until I turned my back, he got hold of the salt shaker, and suddenly there was a white coating of salt all over his food, all over the table, and starting to work its way to the floor. Even as I said “Baby G. Stanley Cornelius! What are you doing!” too loudly and anxiously, I could hear my mother’s recent advice: “don’t yell at him, he doesn’t know any better”. And really, I wasn’t yelling at him, because she’s right, he doesn’t know any better. If I was yelling at anyone, it was at me for leaving the salt shaker within his reach. He didn’t know that… a for a few minutes, he started to cry. It was but a moment, but not one of my best.
They say that life is what happens while you are waiting for your plans to come true. Today feels like parenting is what happens while you are waiting to get some more sleep.
I got up at about 1:45am the other night because Baby G. was stirring and mumbling in his sleep the other night. Mrs. Geek pulled this duty the night before and expressly asked me to get up if I heard him in the middle of the night. When he did, I got out of bed, walked down to his bedroom, found a pillow, and stretched out on the floor next to his crib. After a short while, I fell asleep.
I had a dream of the sort that I usually don’t have. I dreamed it was dark and I was walking through rooms in my parents house that don’t exist. I started in rooms that were indistinctly filled with sleeping people in bunk beds, through a series of doorways, doors, and chambers that became progressively less used. Each next room seemed to be filled with several people indistinctly mumbling, only to fall silent and uninhabited as soon as entered. I stopped in a room, looking for corner where I could curl up and sleep. A disembodied figure passed through from behind me onto the next chamber. I took it to be my father. I asked it/him if these rooms were ever used. He responded “If I ever told your mother that they were, I’d never get any sleep around here.” I lay down in the corner of that room and went to sleep.
After that, I awoke saw from the clock that it was almost 3am and went back to my own bed. For some reason, that passing from room to room with the next room full of indistinct conversation that then fell silent… that’s stuck with me since.