Today's "take back your time" makeup day was a series of very low-level fiascoes, such as R offering to pick up C at preschool only to discover that there was no carseat in his car... my going to the hospital to visit someone who turned out to be in the other hospital across town... stuff like that. Small stuff. Stuff that would've really unnerved me if I'd been a little more strung out and sleep-deprived.

Speaking of, R and I have hit upon a solution to our sleep problems. We had been taking turns getting up with M, letting the other one sleep in, which meant we were inevitably off-kilter with each other's sleep schedules. We have decided to both go to bed early (10:30 or so--early for us) and get up when she gets up. One of us will have baby playtime while the other works out on the tradmill. This has worked beautifully for two whole days! Only 19 more to go before it becomes a habit...

Can I say that I love my writing group? I have a great time with them. I love reading what everyone's working on and it's still sort of shocking and touching to come in and discover that, not only did they read my stuff, but they actually read it thoughtfully and have comments about it.

I am working on an "audition" piece for Christian Mainline Liberal Magazine. I heard back in March that they were looking for some new voices for their lectionary column, so I sent a query and some clips and the editor said, OK, why don't you give it a try and I'll give you feedback. It's due November 1.

I also found out yesterday that one of my poems will be published next month in an online literary magazine that deals with the topic of motherhood. (That's a thoroughly gogglable description right there.) They would also like to publish another one in December or January. I've sent them stuff on and off for the past year or so, so this is gratifying and fun.

I sent them a bio that included a link to this website, and the second I sent it I thought better of it. As much as I'd like to invite their readers over here, I fast-forwarded to the time when I will be seeking another call. Google is way too easy and too irresistible for search committees. I am circumspect about what I say here (occasional four-letter rants notwithstanding), such that I'm not terribly worried about the reactions of folks who basically know me and trust me. But I'm not sure dropping the F-bomb is the kind of first impression I want to make.

So, like a flake, I e-mailed the poetry editor and said, "Please remove that last sentence of my bio." Tomorrow I might change my mind, who knows?