The one where I can’t figure out whether to laugh or cry.

This was my day:

Finally fall asleep somewhere after 4 a.m. I don’t know why, but my brain wouldn’t shut off last night.

Little Bear woke up at 5:30. I gave him a bottle and got him back to sleep. Butter woke up at 7:15. I proceeded to beg M to get up so that I could get a little more sleep.

M woke me up at 9 because we had a play date with friends. We were only about 15 minutes late, which is pretty standard for us, honestly.

Butter and the other kids played for close to three hours. Butter did not want to come home. Somehow, he stayed awake through the entire 40 minute car ride back to our house. M had to get ready for work, so he offered to take Butter upstairs for a nap while I changed and fed Little Bear.

Butter has become a Tiny Terrorist. (Thanks to @BurghBaby for the terminology.)

While M was in the shower, I heard Butter come out of his room so I went up to check on him. He was coming out of our room. I’m kicking myself for not taking a picture of the state of his room, but I very nearly lost my head on him.

Not only had he pulled the sheet off of his bed [which is something he’d done in the past when he didn’t want to go to bed at night], he pulled the mattress off of the bed and a few of the slats out. I don’t know how I managed to keep it together [remember, I’m working on about two and a half hours of sleep], but I put the bed back together, and Butter was sent back to bed. I know of twice that he got up again, but he got back in bed quickly.

M told me today that this is why I’m a great mom, blah blah blah. It’s not that I don’t believe him, but when the kid[s] refuse to sleep and all I want to do is rest, I get a little agitated.

I won, though. Butter and Little Bear both slept for over two hours this afternoon. And me? Well, I got about 20 minutes of rest.

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