Have I ever mentioned that I like sleeping?

I do. It’s one of my favorite things. But I haven’t been doing a whole lot of it lately.

Have I ever mentioned I hate fireworks?

I don’t, but on Saturday night I was ready to do serious bodily harm to the people in the neighborhood behind us who kept setting them off and waking Little Bear up. Pretty sure the last one I heard was about 1:30 in the morning. 


Last night was . . . a monster of a different variety. See, normally it takes me forever to fall asleep. And once I’m woken up? I’m up. For hours. But, I knew I had to try to get to bed early last night because I was on drop off duty with Butter this morning because M worked the early shift.

I climbed into bed with my nook and settled down with one of the Black Dagger Brotherhood books [I’ve been seriously addicted to them for about two weeks now]. I turned the light off before 10 p.m. It was going to be a glorious night of sleep, even though the alarm was set for 5 a.m.

Around 10:45, I heard M saying something to Butter, followed by a Very Naked Toddler being put into bed with me. I have to preface the rest of this by saying how proud I am of Butter. He’s been sleeping in underwear for probably a month or so. M or I always make sure the last thing he does before tuck in is go potty, and one of us [usually M, because he gets home from work after 11 p.m. most nights] takes him again before we crawl into bed for the night. He had exactly one accident until last night, and really, I blame the milk.

Butter had three glasses of milk with dinner last night. Chocolate, plain, and strawberry. As our neighbor who we’d invited for dinner put it, “It’s like Neapolitan milk!” Apparently potty just before tuck in wasn’t good enough, because like I said, M went in there and around 10:45, Butter had had an accident.

Another preface – my husband has an eye disease called Keratoconus. He’s had both corneas transplanted [a favorite saying is, “I see because of dead people!”], and still, his eyes are kind of bad. Add to that the fact that he hasn’t gotten new glasses the entire time we’ve been together and he’s pretty much blind as a bat when he’s wearing them. So he tends to turn on a lot of lights in order to see what he needs to see.

I swear he turned on nearly every light in our bedroom last night. He swears it was only the one in the dressing area and his bedside lamp. But the loft light was also on, and our door was open, so I’m calling that every light in the damn house. I win by default because I didn’t get back to sleep until after 3 a.m.

My alarm was initially set for 5 a.m. Around 2:45, I reset it for 5:45. Little Bear, who’d been up and had a bottle around midnight and cried out a few times in the night, woke me up with his chattering at 5:40. I’ve been a little sporky all day. My eyes were [are] tired, I lacked any kind of serious focus or motivation at work [but I still got everything I needed to done, and then some], and I considered taking a spork to the eyes of the secretary of the doctor I’m seeing at UPenn in August [oh yeah, I scheduled that appointment today].

Right now, I’m so grateful my husband worked an open shift today. He went to get Little Bear from his grandparents’ house, and he took Butter with him. Why am I not napping? Please, if I nap now, I’ll never sleep tonight. And I’m fairly certain I can see my mom rolling her eyes at me. No one beat me at Sleep Olympics when I was in high school. No one.

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