Every NaBloPoMo’r is going to have one of these posts, written at 10 minutes to midnight, just squeaking it in. This one is mine.

Insert content here — I just got off work, which was a little more screwy than usual, and despite Mac sleeping soundly through the night just about every night I am still feeling whupped. So not much to say today except that My Precious Sewing Machine is reportedly ready for pickup and shiny as a new dime. I’ll get it tomorrow, and hopefully be ready to show you the quilt I was working on for Mac when it exploded.

Oh, the machine exploded, not the quilt, and not literally exploded, because that would be loud and violent and totally not what happened, but exploded like kerplooey it go bye-bye no can worky no more so sorry.

SWEET HEAVENS I am tired. Off to bed.

The babies alternated waking me up every two hours last night. Mac apparently believes his crib is made of molten lava, and Owen was hungry for some cereal at 1 a.m. We’re all sick and the house is a mess. I’ve spent the last week bedhopping my way from store to store and reading Consumer Reports until I cried. And I have a crick in my neck.

However. It’s not all bad. We have homemade potato chips and white chocolate to snack on, and our new mattress will be delivered on Friday. I think today is one of those days you kick your shoes off, put your Tidy Blinders on (“dirt? what dirt?”) and watch Lord of the Rings.

Mattress shopping report: Oh my God. I don’t know what I did as an American to deserve such a miserable ordeal, but there you have it. Mattress shopping is not for the faint of heart. It’s a motherfucking bitch, is what it is. After a week of comparison shopping, advice asking, spouse-arguing and internet-researching, I  finally walked into Macy’s this morning, pointed to a Beautyrest on sale for half off, handed the elderly gentleman my debit card and walked out. I’m glad I don’t have to go through this again for 10 years. I’m also glad that I’m going to be sleeping in luxurious queen-sized comfort in a week’s time. It’s like looking forward to the day the doctor cuts the bear trap off your leg. Whee! What a fun day it will be!

God, it just sounds like a good time, doesn’t it.

I’m going to do a couple of loads of laundry and dream about buying a new mattress. And I hope to finally upload some Halloween pictures and maybe write a post about patching my jeans. And all the rest of the household chores that need to be done, and the kid-taming, yadda yadda. Big fat boring day. Now, if only it would rain. Or, better yet, snow.

Library Day report: I was up for the day at, what, 6? And we still didn’t get out of the house until 10:30. I missed seeing Heather altogether. I just can’t get my shit together in the morning.

But there was this: toward the end of our play time in the kids’ section, I asked Owen what books he wanted to get. Castle books, he said. I showed him where the librarian was seated and he marched right up to her and asked her where to find the books on castles. I was so impressed. She gave us a call number and I showed him how to find the nonfiction books. He picked out two juvenile encyclopedic-type books and carried them himself to checkout. Spent his quiet time reading them and looking at pictures of knights and swords and stuff. This is definitely the awesome part about parenting.

Though I can see myself having to stock pretzels and cola for his dungeons’n’dragons parties in later years.

I am a freak for the library. I just love it. I’ve loved it since I was seven and we lived a block away from the local branch and I went pretty much every day. I wore out my little paper library card. I read through every young girl series they had: the Baby-Sitters Club, Sweet Valley High (and the middle-school version, and the university version), this series about girls who are gymnasts, this other one about girls who go to private school, another one about girls who stable their horses at the same place, plus Nancy Drew. I read them mostly in order and I pounded through them, bam-bam-bam.

I am too old for that now (though I will read Gossip Girl if I think no one is looking). Now I spend the bulk of my library time sitting next to the train table, rocking the baby and making encouraging noises about Thomas and Percy for Owen. Only at the end do I get a late dash through dewey decimals 642 and 742 — knitting and sewing. I don’t even bother with fiction these days. Since Harry Potter and the Last Book came out (or whatever it’s called), I’ve only been reading Harry Potter. Finished number 7 and then went back and re-read them all, except I skipped the first one. Now I’m midway through the fifth, reading 15 pages here and there. I don’t have the brainspace to take a chance on other fiction, especially since I don’t know what’s good these days.

Errand Day report: Taking a sewing machine in for repair is just like taking a car in for repair. There’s some guy at the shop, explaining to me what it was I did wrong. (“See this? Flub rotator wheel. Obviously hasn’t been balanced in years. You’re going to need to get that taken care of.”) He promises to take good care of it, forgives me my motorized sins and tells me he’ll call if he finds anything worse. My Singer needs a good degreasing (aye) and a …, well, a good shaking. Owen has stuck all manner of pins and needles into whatever machine orifice he could find, making it rattle like mad. So hopefully the guy fixes that, too.

As far as mattress shopping is concerned? Oy. I stopped at Sears after we hit the repair shop. It was frightening. Nothing like what I remember as a kid — it was just packed to the gills with cheap product. There were no signs directing me to homewares. I finally got directions from a homely girl and rode the elevator, which was appropriately cheap and tiny, to the first floor. There were maybe eight beds, all dirty looking. I sat on each one in the ‘Firm’ section and slid off of each. They shook and wobbled. No one was around to answer questions. I don’t reckon I’ll be returning to Sears at any time for any reason.

Later we visited a Mattress Warehouse, which was much better. I tried three regular innerspring mattress — no, four — and they were all fine. Honestly, at this point pretty much anything is going to be an improvement on our current setup. (“That mattress isn’t smiling, it’s sagging.”) We have a full-size mattress and boxspring that was a handmedown from a family friend. Two adults, two kids and five years later, it has officially kicked the can. We have my old cheap futon on top to protect us from the springs. It’s time.

So, I have a new plan of action: the quality TempurPedic knockoff. I have a few friends who love their TempurPedic, and a few friends who love their TempurPedic knockoff from Costco. We’re going to swing by Costco this weekend and see if they have a bed to try. I’m chomping at the bit to just buy it and set it up already, because I am confident I will love it, but I guess I ought to let Iain have a say in this as well. And a few more days or weeks of our old bed won’t make much of a difference, I suppose.

I was hoping to escape Outing Day due to rain, but the fucking sun came out. So I guess we’ll be going to the park. And because I love my son so very much, I won’t even let on how much I dislike going to the park. The walking, the waiting, the watching, the other moms (ESPECIALLY the other moms). Also the bugs, the wet, the mud, the squirrels, the detritus and grafitti and the evidence of teenagers having after-dark good times in the tunnel slide.

Motherhood is sacrifice. I would much rather be indoors watching Martha, but Owen really likes being outside and really really likes going to the playground, and it is Tuesday. So I’ma sack up and do it.

Muffin report: Our Bake Day muffins came out fantastically. I ate four yesterday and one so far today. When we make them again, I’ll probably drastically reduce (or eliminate) the chocolate chips; I’m not actually a fan of chocolate chips, in general, and I really don’t like them in something I’m passing off as breakfast food (see: banana bread. See also: pancakes.)  And when I gave Owen a muffin this morning I saw that he ate all the chocolate chips out of it, leaving a holey confection on his plate. Aiy. But tastewise, these are delicious. And if you prefer more of a dessert muffin, leave the chips.

Well! That’s all I have time for. I can hear Mac, awake from his comically brief a.m. nap. Time to get the Outing part of Outing Day over and done with.