Being both super busy and broke is an odd sensation. I'm reminded of the old Louis Jordan swing song that used to be on my answering machine when I was in my twenties: "If you're so smart...how come you ain't rich."

I'm doing everything I can to get the word out on the book. I just started a Facebook group, Bedtime Stories, and I wrote a humor piece that I'm hoping Vanity Fair will run and God knows what else. At the same time the semester is just starting up again and my film grad students pay too much money (about $40K a year!) to have one of their profs be absentee. And then there's taking care of the kids.

Oh, yeah. Them.

I'm getting lazier and lazier. I used to get up at seven, make breakfast and take them to school but if I don't get eight hours sleep I'm crankier than Chet when he hasn't eaten or slept. I was up till midnight answering emails and writing after having taught and taken care of the kids after school so at seven I was still wupt. I woke them up then went back to bed for a half hour and at 7:30 when I got up I had Chet get his own breakfast. Actually the pediatrician had just asked if he could already and I kind of assumed that he would slosh milk all over the floor. Instead, he did pretty well (except he poured a lake of milk into his bowl). Ava, meanwhile, never goes anywhere, does anything, without a book in her hand.