7:00-7:25 p.m. Elizabeth cries downstairs.
7:25-8:20 p.m. I try to figure out what the crap her problem is. I sing to her and rub her back as she says, literally, "Wahhhhh" (she's done with crying but still wants to do it) and she finally goes hitchingly off to sleep.
8:30-8:50 p.m. William has a bad dream. I get him out of bed and talk with him for awhile: it helps to fully wake up from a dream before going back to bed.
10:00-10:40 p.m. I lie awake waiting for sleep to happen. The last time I see the clock before falling asleep, it's 10:40.
11:00-11:05 p.m. A cat chases a plastic Easter egg wildly down the hardwood hall, skittering and bumping into walls. I'm so completely asleep, at first I think it's morning. I get up, pick up the Easter eggs and put them out of cat reach. As I do so, I "move the cat aside with my foot," in a gesture that some people might use a different verb for.
12:25-12:45 a.m. Henry wakes up and wants to nurse. I remind him that the pediatrician said babies Henry's age don't need to eat at night. Henry disagrees and/or did not receive that memo.
2:30-2:40 a.m. Electrifying sounds of a cat barfing repeatedly and energetically. I lie in the dark wondering if I'm going to cry first, hit something first, or just get up and deal with it. I just get up and deal with it. I can only find two tiny bits of cat barf---is there more somewhere? I refill the cats' water dish.
4:15-4:20 a.m. The cats have been up and around ALL NIGHT. What is their DEAL? They're fighting in the hall for the zillionth time. FINE. I will refill their food dish, because that's probably the problem. They can't wait even 2 more hours until morning. FINE. I go down to the scary dark basement and refill their dish---which STILL HAS PLENTY OF FOOD IN IT. The cats come running and galumphing anyway: it's FRESH food now.
4:45 a.m. Elizabeth cries briefly and goes back to sleep.
5:25 a.m. Paul's alarm goes off.
6:15 a.m. My alarm goes off.
Summer sleep-away camp supplies - I am in a TIZZ about Elizabeth going to Girl Scouts camp this summer. I’m GLAD she’s going, and I’m glad she WANTS to go, but it’s a week and this is the f...