I did last night's interview (thanks Geoff!) while perched on top of my washer because that's as far as our corded land line would reach. We never ever use our home phone, in fact, not even our family has our phone number because that's how much we don't use it. We're all about e-mail and free long distance after 8 p.m. on the cell phones.
So I had the phone cord stretched across my kitchen behind the door to my laundry room where I sat on the washer, hunched over on the edge, frozen, as the cord was nearly about to rip out of the wall. All of this because if Ewan heard me talking he'd start screaming and beating his head on his crib. He was mad that Chris didn't put him to bed and when I told him goodnight he threw his teddy bear and blanket at me in a sassy protest. He then sat in the middle of his crib and yelled "DAAAY!" "DAAAY!" for daddy. When I peeked in at him to see if he wanted me he flung his arms down in the hopes that they would shoot out of their sockets and stab me in the head because there was nothing else was left in the crib to throw.