I’ve been sitting here since about seven o’clock wondering just how early is too early to go to bed for the night. I am so tired all the time these days, a combination, no doubt, of early pregnancy hormones and the short, dark days. I swear I could sleep for twelve or fourteen hours straight if anyone would let me.

I finally got around to doing some long-put-off holiday tasks yesterday and today, sending off the bulk of my Christmas cards (I think I have two or three left to send out tomorrow — the last day for guaranteed on-time delivery!) and getting some presents wrapped. We’re actually more or less done with our shopping, which is a minor miracle for us, but I’ve scarcely made a dent in the wrapping. I would assign a portion of that chore to Olof, but I’m a rather obsessive perfectionist when it comes to gift-wrapping, and I couldn’t bear to pass out packages wrapped in his haphazard style.

I’m fresh out of interesting things to say just now, and as it’s gotten to be all of nine-thirty I think I’m going to head for bed. If you’ve got some time on your hands, feel free to check out some new pictures of my kid: Tage the Terrible.