And I’m not sure what more needs to be said. Except that I stopped listening when the total repairs on the car inched past the $1500 mark. For an $800 car, Dave’s car has really cost us. Bleck.

The girls are supposed to be napping with their Dad. However, I am hearing the suspicious sounds of little feet on the floor above me. It wouldn’t take a betting woman to determine the kids have won and Dh is sleeping.

but NaNoWiMo starts in just a couple short weeks. It’s been at the back of my brain, niggling my thoughts and prompting me to compose lengthy paragraphs in my head. Unfortunately, all this dreaming about actually writing a novel is not nearly as constructive as a person might imagine.

So, tonight I decided to do some research on how to go about writing a novel. Mainly because I’m scared I’ll start this thing, and never actually finish. Which, in my own opinion, is worse than having never started. (Although, I’m sure that sentiment does not mesh well with the “it is better to have tried and failed, then to have never tried at all” mentality. Go figure.)

Anyway, I ran across a site that talks about preparing to write a novel. He uses what he calls “the snowflake method.” In many ways, his method is very similar to the written plot/time-line approach I was taught in eleventh grade literature. Call me nostalgic, but it appeals to me to do something familiar.

The down side to it all is that his approach takes pre-planning and lots of time, and frankly I’m not sure if it’s within the rules of NaNoWiMo to do all your planning before November. Having said that, if I do all the pre-planning now, by November all I will have to do is the actually writing of the novel. Everything will be ready and the chances of me actually succeeding skyrockets.

But then, it’s my novel. I get to set the pace, and I get to set the rules. So I say all this snowflake-book-planning can be done before NaNoWiMo kicks off.

And that’s that.

I think.

Remind me later to tell you about the crash pad I’m building. It’s not related to writing a novel, and feels inappropriate to really get into within this entry.

since I’ve done anything crafty. I was surprised by how good it felt. Even such a simple craft. Makes me want to do something else. Something bigger and more complicated.

But lets be honest. Life is busy right now. Why in the world would I complicate life!

Speaking of complications and a busy life. We had a meeting with an OT therapist to follow up on some evaluations DD1 had done a week or two ago. I was surprised by how relieving it was to finally have an official diagnosis. Because, with the diagnosis comes a very individual and detailed plan of action. Complete with occupational therapy and in home work.

Add to that, I’ve been busy reading and researching all our options. It’s a lot of information, and I’ll readily admit that often words sort of blur into each other. I’m beginning to think I need to start taking notes.

All in all, though, the hardest part is going to be relearning how to parent. It’s like someone took all my basic expectations, flipped them upside down, and said, “There, now figure it out.”

Eek.

People ask me why I insist on DD1 taking a daily mid-day nap. After all, there are quite a few preschoolers out there who no longer need a mid-day rest; let alone a mid-day nap. Often I have a hard time articulating why I insist on it, and resort to a feable, “She just needs one.”

And then, a day like today happens. Not that much happened. In fact, it was a fairly uneventful day of running short errands, doing some housework, and even squeezing in a little dance class for DD1. The only real thing that stands out from today is the fact that DD1 didn’t nap.

One evening of an unrested DD1 is all it takes to remind me why I’m so adamant about mid-day naps.

As I type this, her over-energized-juiced-up body is in serious over drive. She is literally running into walls and bouncing on every imaginable surface. She’s speaking at a completely un-modulated volume, and is otherwise unreasonably giddy and hyper. Every direction is met with a blank face and an incomprehensible wild-eyed confusion and intensity.

I am exhausted by just being in the same room with her.

In fact, it is this level of insanity that, I believe, prompted last week’s hair dressing session in the playroom. (See picture to visualize the extent of the “dressing” that was accomplished before they were discovered.) It is also this level of intensity that has me seeking multi-sensory activities for DD1 to do on an everyday basis.

And, in a small part, it is this level of insanity and energy that has prompted Dh and I to get DD1 evaluated for SPD. We will find out on Wednesday what the verdict is. I would be lying if a part of me isn’t more than a little apprehensive about the results. Although, I’m not sure what is more daunting. The idea that she may have SPD. Or the idea that she doesn’t.