Insomniac musings: work; hiking; ironic deaths

This "low data allotment/no photos" bit is killing off my blogging desire almost completely. I am watching my baby on the video monitor right now. She is talking cutely in her sleep, "Dada," while laying face down in her crib. I am awake after trying to go to bed early last night (7:30pm) following which, Jerry came home from work sometime around midnight and inadvertently woke me up. I tried to fall back asleep for a whole hour. Finally I got up and unloaded the dishwasher, studied the scriptures, and am now currently wasting time online. There is something about the husband working 80-ish hours per week that unsettles the whole household. It is almost like he is out of town, gone, except worse. Did I mention he averaged 80 hours/week for more than the month of January, even having to work a whole month of weekends. Then, he started a different client the second week of February which is a longer commute but slightly better hours. Trade-offs. And yet, despite the unpleasantness of his work hours, I have felt mostly content. Now and then I freak out and have a (minor?) breakdown but overall am feeling happy. Perspective matters. Yesterday a few friends (three other moms and our collective 10 kids) went on a "hike." It was the sort of trail that readily accepts bikes and strollers. We had glorious, spring-time weather--even summery--and I don't know what everyone elsewhere in the nation has been saying about a cold winter?? It has never been winter for one single moment here in the Bay Area. Yes I am gloating. Though I missed having snow for about 2 seconds on Christmas morning. We saw lots of cool wildlife on our hike including: a coyote (50 yds away); several hawks (30 yards away on the ground, one of them, and it was picking at a kill in its talons); plentiful butterflies (even a bright blue one!); and baby goats. Okay, the latter wasn't wildlife per se but we had lunch at a farm and there were all kinds of cute animals there. Baby Ro is totally an animal person. She was fussing for the majority of the hike (teething? has a cold? uncomfortable jeans? I don't know???) but at the farmyard, she brightened right up and kept pointing, laughing, etc. at the chickens and pigs especially. The pigs were just laying motionless, so I'm not sure why she loved them so. But I'm glad she likes animals, because Liam as never had any particular interest in them except for dinosaurs and I need at least one of our kids to be an animal person with me. We have a tank of fish. At first, it was beautiful. Then one of the goldfish, the hulking 4 inch long giant bully of the bunch, tried eating the catfish. I say "tried," because he only got the poor baby catfish halfway down his gullet before it got stuck in transit. He had a catfish tail poking perpetually out his mouth. The fish looked absolutely disgusting, swimming pathetically with ever slower pace as he gradually starved himself to death due to his gluttony. After a few days of watching him, agonizing over what I should do, Liam and I finally released him into the pond near our home where I hoped he would be quickly eaten and put out of his misery. Liam asked me, "Why are you being mean to the goldfish? Now he will be cold in the pond." I tried explaining the dilemma and principle of my kindness, being that a quicker death might be more merciful to the goldfish than a slow starvation in our tank at home. This is why we have pets. It raises all kinds of great topics to discuss with innocent children. Ugh. Sort of wishing we could have a dog or something less brainless than a goldfish.