My circle, she's a widenin'

Norah's still not sleeping well, but we've got it figured out, because we are specially-trained babyraisers with advanced degrees in Toddlerese: she's sick! Ah HA! I thought that her sniffles were in actually just sniffles, but as any parents (other than us, because that part earlier about us being super geniuses? Total lie) know, sniffles are rarely just sniffles. They do in fact have the power to cause sleeplessness, or lack of interest in food, or mass casualties in the manner of a dirty bomb. In Nonos' case, they have caused all of these things, culminating in a fried-eggs-on-the-forehead fever at about midnight last night. It is a miracle that I still have a face and she didn't manage to claw it off yet, and that I was able to chisel enough dried snot off her face to separate her from my chest, where she's spent the last several hours. My poor kid, she's a messy mess. God bless Motrin and the entire Vicks family of medications.

ANYWAY. I got cold-called today to do some sports photography, which I've never done and wasn't really interested in doing. Someone who knew someone else referred me to a sports photography agency to shoot a multi-team, multi-day soccer tournament, about which I know absolutely nothing. I guess they're in the habit of hiring freelancers, so that's how I got in. I'm excited, but I'm nervous - I'm going to be paid a lot of money, and I have no idea what I'm doing. I told the guy from the agency that, and he seemed relatively unaffected. "You shoot kids," he said, "so I bet you're used to working fast. You'll be FIIIINE."

Um... I guess.

I'm working it tomorrow from 8-12 (and I have a wedding in the afternoon, yippee!) and Sunday, whenever I can get the kidlet into a good playdate. Who knows, maybe it'll be fun, I'll get all sportsy and start working for NBC or SI. (I am, however, drawing the line at this, despite the pleas of every guy I know.)