Sophie asked to be taken out of the tub first last night, and I left her wrapped in a towel on my bed while I got Sadie out. During the 15 seconds I was away, she loosed herself from her towel, flipped, and shot across my bed. It's a game we've played ever since they were able to flip and crawl, and I usually think it's pretty funny. There are exceptions, of course, like when they try to flip in the middle of a messy diaper change. And when I discover, as I did last night upon turning down my sheets, that during the 15 seconds that she was unattended she wet my bed. Rascal.
But that is not all, oh no, that is not all.
She awakened me before midnight, and we hung out together on the couch until I was so tired I was beginning to have hallucinations about bedbugs.
I didn't get up on time this morning.
Sophie cried all morning, unless I was holding her.
Nothing happened on time this morning, because it is hard to make pancakes with a baby in your arms.
The only chocolate in my house is the kids' nasty milk chocolate bars from Valentine's Day.
Sometimes this year I've wondered what God is trying to teach me, because I have had more bad nights than good. Maybe if I could figure it out, I could learn my lesson sooner, and then I'd get sleep again. Or maybe not.
Fortunately, my mother came this afternoon, armed with dark chocolate (does she know me or what?!), to hold babies and do reading lessons so I could catch my breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment