Life better, help appreciated

Last night was a better night - she only really got going for about 45 minutes between 2 and 3 am. It would have been an even better night for me if I hadn't been awake from 12, when the rain started pouring like someone had turned on the celestial faucet, until 2. It's so maddening to be utterly exhausted and still awake, though I expect much of it is my fault for having a glass of wine at 7 pm (tends to cause night-waking, especially red wine which this was).

Still, the 2-3 hour was terrible - she has a stuffy nose, so her crying was particularly piteous. Yesterday she came home from new!nanny with the runniest nose but cheerful and acting like a trouper. Between the copious snot, the drool because she was mouth-breathing, and her tendency to shake her head fiercely to avoid kleenex, we were both pretty much covered in baby goo.

Nursed at 12 and 4 only. Wow.

My father has emailed and reveals himself not to be a newly devious and conniving shit, but only the same old passive, won't-be-an-advocate-even-for-his-own-kids shit he's been all my life, so that's okay. I expect that kind of shit.

Aunt is still dying, of course, but there's no helping that.

On the good side: mr. flea is at home baking a peach pie.