Sponge Nap

Kid logic at its finest:

One evening last week I couldn't convince a dusty-bodied Turbo that he needed a bath. We don't do baths every night in this house, but this was a night when a bath was unquestionably needed and, for whatever reason, my darling boy had no interest.

Thus began the negotiations. I got it down to the minimum requirements of feet washing and bum washing. The rest... who cares, right?

Me: "Turbo, you don't have to take a full bath, but we need to take a small bath. You don't have to sit down. It's called a sponge bath."

Turbo: "OK." [sure wish he could be this agreeable when broccoli is on the table.]

To be fair, I didn't use an actual sponge so in hindsight I can see how the following conclusion was incorrectly made.

On Sunday, when it was time for Turbo's nap, I heard Turbo coin a new term called "sponge nap."

We're in a lovely transition period around here where Turbo doesn't always take a nap. I call this transition "a taste of purgatory," as Turbo gets increasingly nutso as the day and evening wear on and it's not always tea and roses and I'm convinced I must be paying for sins of my adolescence.

I told Turbo it was nap time.

Turbo: "I don't want to take a nap. I want to play."

Me, stifling a sigh: "You don't have to sleep, but you do have to lay in your bed quietly."

Turbo: "I don't want to take a long nap. I want to take a sponge nap. And then I want to play."

It took me a minute to realize that, in Turbo math, short = sponge.

Kid logic = Kidlogical = love it!

Miracle of Miracles

Let me get right to the point: Both kids are asleep before 8 PM. Did you hear that? Both kids. Before 8. Have pigs flown? Is there ice in Hades?

This has pretty much never happened in our home and I almost don't know what to do with myself. Scratch that... I know exactly what to do with myself:

• Remove contacts, wash daily grime off face - alone, and moving as slowly as I'd like
• Look my husband in the eye - and linger without being interrupted
• Read in bed - something other than Horton Hears A Who (Girl With a Dragon Tattoo!)
• Sleep - and set the alarm for an interval greater than 8 hours

I've mentioned in previous posts that there is a story to tell about my husband. Let me give you the highlight reel. He does this for recreation: 

Amazing, right? And he was performing this amazing skill a couple of weekends ago and hurt his knee. When I say 'hurt' his knee, what I really mean is he broke and tore the ever-lovin' crap out of it and now is on crutches and requires surgery and some lengthy physical therapy. Ouch. Sweetie, I am so very sorry this happened to you. :(

This event has required our whole family to adjust to a new routine, and while I think we're getting the hang of things, I haven't had 8 hours of nightly sleep for two weeks. I've been lucky to get 6. In this house I don't always get 8 hours, but I can usually squeeze in a few of those nights each week and I really miss that guarantee.

Dear Smiley and Turbo, please sleep through the night. I wish you peaceful dreams of lollipops and gumballs and bouncy balls and trampolines and all the things that would make you want to linger in your beds come morning.

Thank you and good night. My book is waiting.

Supermom Moments

I love those moments when I feel like a super mom, or, better put... Supermom. I will admit I am also learning to love the many moments when I am not at my best because those are often more memorable and rife with opportunities for growth. More on that to come soon.

Tonight my Supermom moment involved a very poopy diaper. Yes, I know, eww. But it's a good story and I'm proud of this success so please bear with me.

Smiley is a very good sleeper. There have been two times that I can recall where she pooped in the middle of the night and slept right through it. The first time was maybe six months ago and I happened to be in the room trying with all my might to get Turbo to sleep. I remember there was an unmistakable rumble from the crib across the room and I thought to myself, "uh oh." I was able to change her that night with little fuss, and I thanked my lucky stars that I was in earshot of the explosion. Can you imagine the poor little red bum that would have suffered had I not been there?!

Tonight was also one of those poops-in-her-sleep nights, and on this occasion I was able to change her without waking her. Such a feat should not go unpublished.

I entered the kids' bedroom to arrange the pillow and blanket on Turbo's bed - to move him from my bed to his bed, by the way, as this is our new norm - when I smelled the signs that she'd done it again. Sleep has been really, really important in this house lately (still need to tell my husband story to elaborate; it's coming, I promise) so I said a little prayer and got to work.

I set up shop in the dimly lit hallway: nigh time diaper, plenty of wipes, extra jammie bottoms justincase, and some diaper ointment so as not to take a chance on her having a sore bottom in the morning. Then I snuck quietly back into the room, pulled my lead-weighted beauty into my arms and threw the blanket over her head.

Let me pause here to say how wonderful it is to still be able to snuggle like this with one of my kids. Turbo is a sleepy-time snuggler for sure, but he's all tall and wiry now. Smiley is getting bigger, but still kind of chubby and delicious and she loves to cuddle. I will opening weep for and miss these days when they are gone.

I laid Smiley on the hallway floor and put her blanket over her head. She squinted in the low light, coming from pitch black, no surprise, and that's about all the fuss she gave me. She barely moved and it was the easiest diaper change I've had with her in about a month. This is a girl on the go and I usually have to change her whilst she stands and plays with toys or points out our big bay window at the dogs walking by.

Thanks for making me feel like a Super Mom, little Smiley. I think you're super too.

The Nap Resister

I was lucky enough today to go out to breakfast with two of my sisters and together our group consisted of seven humans, only three of whom were paying for their own meals. So you could say it was a bit busy with non-stop entertainment and wiggling and spilled milk and requests for bacon and... Let me just say that we had one of the most understanding waitresses I have ever personally encountered since becoming a mom. I tipped her well.

The downside to this fabulous breakfast was that I hardly looked my sisters in the eyes... maybe a quick glance in between, "please stop that" and "yes, your bacon will come soon." I'm pretty sure none of us achieved a complete thought, at least not out loud, but as my sister so aptly put it, "distracted meals come with the territory."

The restaurant was the Brown Bag Cafe, a local favorite for its huge and delicious portions and its kid-friendly dining, and I got a reminder of how popular it was when I arrived at 9:30 AM and tried to park. In the end it only took 5 minutes, but that is only because I found a spot that no one else had noticed because the parking lines had faded into near oblivion. Lucky!

My sisters weren't so lucky as it took them 15 minutes to find a spot. Turbo and Smiley were really well behaved inside the waiting area, and that is quite something as we ended up waiting for over 25 minutes for our party of seven. They were on the verge of turning to the dark side when our name was finally called. Phew.

The meal was wonderful and long overdue and the story I really want to tell here is one that took place on the ride home. We left around 11:30 AM - two hours; sheesh! - and that threw off my plans to make a quick stop at Target before rushing home to put Smiley down for a nap. At this point I knew Smiley would fall asleep in the car, and she did, bless her little heart.

Turbo was another story. As Smiley was drifting off to sleep, Turbo asked me, "Mom, can I watch a movie when we get home?"

Me: "Sure. First you need to take a short nap, though, and then you can watch a movie."

Turbo: "That's not gonna work."

Me: "What's not gonna work?"

Turbo: "That thing you just told me."

Me: "Which part?"

Turbo: "The part about me sleeping."

That kid slays me. In the end, though, he fell asleep in the car too and it was Turbo who kept on sleeping as I put him into bed and it was Smiley who bounced and jumped and laughed in her crib post-car-sleep. I got her up and took her to Target while Turbo slept a good, long, nap. After which he watched The Polar Express. Nothin' says summer like a good Christmas story.



*Notice there is no mention of my darling husband in this post. He is semi-unable to help with the kids these days and that is a story I need to tell too. But not tonight. Tonight I need to get to bed and sleep so that I can greet my adorable children for breakfast.

Go The F**k To Sleep

I actually read this book to Turbo tonight. I modified the words (of course!) and spoke in a zen-mellow-jello voice to lull him to sleep.

I bought it for our Kindle about a year ago when the hubbub first appeared on the Internet(s) and the only reason it was discovered tonight was because Turbo had zero interest in reading his real books and I was desperate for something low-key to wind him down.

He wanted my phone and, instead of flipping my photo gallery for the nine hundredth time, I remembered I had a full-color "kids" book on my Kindle app. Ah, yeah, here we go. I'm convinced he'll see the humor in me reading this to him when he has his own kids.

After I finished reading it, he said to me, "Thank you, mom, for reading me that nice book."

He didn't fall asleep to the book, it was more like 38 minutes later. He is so this little kid.

Stuck in the Middle

When your brain wants two conflicting things, you can give yourself a real whopper of a headache.

My daughter, now 18 months, is a really good sleeper. I am overjoyed by that because it took my son forever to really be a good sleeper. I think he was two years old. Right now I mostly have two good sleepers and I thank my lucky stars because I've been on the bad side of that more times than I care to count. Counting would just depress me and I prefer to remain blissfully unaware of how many fractured nights of sleep I have endured. Note to self: do not do the math.

This week I am craving cuddles with my kids more than ever. I want to hold them forever and never let them go. It's been a bad week, and I'm still struggling with how to or whether to write about why that is. For now I will say that I am staring at my kids more, hanging on their every word, and marveling at their perfection even when they are Mr. and Mrs. Crabby Pants.

This week I have made sure that I am the one putting Smiley down for the night.  I look forward to a few minutes of cuddling, to whisper "I love you" into her curly locks, to sing the same songs my mom sang to me, to read a nostalgic book like Runaway Bunny, and to basically bond with her so she knows without a sliver of a doubt that I am the best mommy in the word... and what does she do? She sits in my lap for all of a millisecond, wiggles down to the floor, waddles over to her crib, and points. I barely get a glancing kiss on the back of her neck, nevermind a kiss on those perfectly chubby cheeks, before she practically dives into her crib, and snuggles with her stuffed pig and says, "Bye."

Yes, folks, she actually says, "Bye." Not, "night, night" or "mommy!!" or gibberish. For this independent young lady it's a brush-off-esque, "Bye" and she's in her own world.

It would be unwise for me to complain about a child who so easily puts herself to sleep, and who is also a solid 11-hour-sometimes-more sleeper.

But I ache for another cuddle.

Tomorrow, little one. You will be mine and my arms are waiting.

You're Feeling Well?

I've mentioned before that Turbo loves to have one of us in his bed as he falls asleep. I have come to love those cuddly moments (most of the time), although I can remember a time when putting Turbo to bed was the hardest job in the house. My husband and I spent many a night fiercely debating whose turn it was or wasn't to suffer that task.

But it's all good now. And yet I have to admit that I sometimes long for those movie scenes where a parent tucks a kid in, kisses their forehead and then walks out of the room as the kid drifts quickly and peacefully off to sleep. I am very curious if this will ever happen in our house.

At times when I've not been sleeping well, those cuddly, going-to-sleep evenings with Turbo usually end with me falling asleep in his bed. I find it annoying when this happens because my only alone time in a day is just after Turbo goes to bed and just before I hit the hay myself. Sometimes I allow myself 5 minutes, sometimes 50 minutes, but it's my time and I can do what I want. Plus, it's really hard on my sleep rhythms to fall asleep two different times a night. Ick.

To try to recapture some of that 'me time' I had to break the habit of falling asleep in Turbo's bed, which meant also breaking the habit of getting into his bed in the first place. It was easy enough to accomplish when I came down with a small cold.

As we walked into his bedroom, Turbo asked (as he always does), "Mom, you're coming in my bed?"

Me: "Not tonight, sweetie. I'm not feeling well." - I repeated this for a couple of nights, and then the habit was broken for a week or so. I sat outside his bed as he drifted off to sleep, clutching a Lighting McQueen car in each hand.

Tonight, Turbo asked again, "Mom, you're coming in my bed?"

Since I was in a cuddling mood, "Yes."

Turbo turned around and smiled, "You're feeling well?"

I laughed. "Yes, baby, I'm feeling well."

So Busted

Turbo and Smiley each require different methods for falling asleep at night.

Smiley is tired at 6 PM, and so when I bring her, all jammied-up, to their room at night, she all but dives into her crib and snuggles in for a long night of, usually, uninterrupted sleep. I barely get to snuggle with her. (A-hem, except for last night, when I gave up trying to get her back to sleep and brought her into our bed around 11:30 PM).

Turbo, on the other hand, has always wanted to sleep next to me. I guess I should be flattered, and I've mostly loved it. He gets into bed around 8:30 PM, and while we've had some success off and on for him to fall asleep on his own, it really seems to work better if one of us in snuggled in his bed with him.

Turbo is 3 years old now. It took a very, very, very, very long time for this kid to sleep on his own through the night. And it took an even longer time (forever +1?) for him to be able to fall asleep quickly.

But we're there. And I'm grateful.

I think I've mentioned it before that I sometimes tell little fibs to Turbo, finding an excuse to exit his warm, snuggly bed before he's completely asleep, and then he graciously falls asleep on his own without my help. I love those nights, as I am able to leave his room before I get all bleary-eyed myself and can't do anything for my "me time" except to fall face first into my own bed.

Last week, I thought I'd pulled it off again. Not so fast, mom. Here is the replay:

[in Turbo's bed]
Me: "I forgot to brush my teeth. I'll be right back."

Turbo: "And then you'll come and sleep in my bed?"

Me: "Uh-huh." And I exit, feeling confident and sure of myself.

Ten minutes later, I'm in front of my computer, browsing Facebook or window-shopping online, when I catch a glimpse of Turbo out of the corner of my eye, coming at me, rubbing his eyes.

"Mom, it's wake up time?"

Erm, um, quickly scramble for an excuse and get back into bed with him.

Setting an Alarm

Even though my darling Smiley gets up before my alarm on most days, I still set the alarm M-F just in case we luck out and have a rare moment of her sleeping a bit longer. It's a tall order, for one who goes to bed by 6:30 PM each night. But a mama can hope, can't she?

I have to stay, I still get a thrill out of not setting my alarm on weekends.

There is something so delicious and full of hope on a Friday or Saturday night, that my kids might sleep in on a weekend morning.

Doesn't happen, but I still have that little moment of hope each Friday and Saturday night.

Am I what you call a glass-is-half-full kind of gal?

I Won't Let You Down

Last night I wanted to sleep. But this little moment with Turbo was worth the lapse in rest.


Turbo called out to me in his sleep and I went to his bed after his usual and irresistible, "Mom, sleep with me."

I crawled into bed with him for a minute and he snuggled in and whispered, "Mom."

Me: "Yeah?"

Turbo: "I won't let you down."

Me: "You won't?"

Turbo: "No, I won't."

And then he fell back asleep. 


I smiled and smiled.


Very profound... unless he was talking about not letting me down from a tree or something, in which case that's just not nice, dude.

Not So Smiley

Oh my word. This has been a really tough couple of weeks. Very cranky, sick kids and very little sleep for mom and dad.  The sleep deprivation reminds us of having a newborn in the house. Ugh.

Last week I stayed home from work for 3 days while Turbo weathered a virus that caused sores in his mouth - he couldn't eat because they were so painful. :(  The virus is said to be mild, so you just manage the symptoms, and the biggest concern is dehydration. It started to get bad enough that I was tracking urine output so that he didn't go 8-12 hours without a pee. It's a scary situation, but he turned the corner just in time.

Some funny things happened over those 3 days too. One is that Turbo saw M&Ms on the table and excitedly asked if he could have some. I knew they'd hurt his mouth, so I told him this and I'm pretty sure he ignored the warning cuz he tucked right in. They did hurt his mouth, poor guy, but the good news is that I had ice water on hand and he ended up drinking a ton of water just to get those chocolates down. He got fluids (score one for mama), and he got treats (score one for Turbo).

The best - or worst, depending on how judgy you are :) - was on the 3rd day, when he was crossing into wellness, but was still very skeptical of what he could put in his mouth. I let him eat marshmallows for dinner. As many as he wanted. When your kid hasn't eaten in 3 days, you just want him to remember that food will not hurt him. He swallowed them down with chocolate milk. Mother of the year, right here.

Oh, did I mention chocolate milk? He's nearly 3 years old, and I think it's pretty remarkable that I've avoided chocolate milk until now. In fact, a few weeks ago I had a glass of Ovaltine for breakfast and offered it to him and he sneered at me and said, "I don't like that. That's your coffee."

During the sickness I tried a hundred different options for fluid intake: popsicles, ice cream, milkshakes, warm water, cold water, anything with a straw and my stubborn little cutie wasn't going for any of it. He really was miserable. But he knows what chocolate is, and when I asked him if he wanted to try chocolate milk, he looked at me to see if I was kidding. "You mean this stuff comes in chocolate?!?" his eyes seemed to say.

So, yeah, chocolate milk was the gateway to wellness for Turbo.

Fast forward a week later and Smiley is sick. Only she can't talk and doesn't know how to use a straw and is sooo miserable (sad) and cuddly (sweet) and since I took so much time off for Turbo, my husband stayed home with her. Today I did stay home and she played some, but only if I remained in the room with her. Accessible. Otherwise, she cried and wandered around trying to find me.

She's been sick for 3 days too. Finally, I tried ibuprofen (we'd been using Tylenol) and whammo! I got a smile 23 minutes later. Why on earth hadn't I tried this before? She played fairly happily for a couple of hours - still needing me nearby, but not as much. I actually got some dishes done.

Then she saw some Cheerios on the counter pointed her chubby little finger and said, "da" which we're pretty sure means "that" as she points and "da's" all the time now.

She ate a good amount. Phew! I think the key is that since all the sores in her mouth are near the front, something like a sippy cup really hurts, but finger food she can squeeze past the opening and happily munch away. She was so happy I even let her walk around with her cup o' Cheerios.

And she finally smiled. Oh, my sweet angel, it's good to see you.

And now she is even napping. Alone - for the first time in about 5 days. My body is wrecked for holding her in chairs and on couches and in bed (nights have been awful too). I think we're finally seeing the light and can't wait to get back to some sense of normalcy.

And sleep. Please let us all sleep tonight.

So, that's where I've been. Too tired to write. I've missed it and hope to be back in it.

Smiley Cuddles

Forgive me if this sounds like a complaint, but Smiley is such a good sleeper that she can no longer snuggle before bedtime. It's awful to realize some of the best cuddles (sleepy time ones) are gone or going away.

She has been sleeping on her tummy, and often flat on her face, since she was 4 months old. There was no turning this one back onto her back, believe me I tried. At 4 months she was still in the co-sleeper right next to my side of the bed and so when she started flipping over like that, I had to cease swaddling and start sleeping with one eye open.

When you give birth to a baby in the Back-to-Sleep era, it's a bit of a heart stopper when your child wants to sleep on their tummy that early. But the experts (and this mama) also believe that when they can turn over on their own, they are ready.

Babies sleep better, more soundly, on their tummies. They also sleep with their round little butts in the air and I have loved every sneak-into-the-bedroom glimpse of that round little butt.

Turbo was not a good sleeper.  He is now, and we often have to wake him in the morning for school. Oh, the sweet irony. With Turbo, we were also first time parents, so I have to accept that I might have been part of that problem. So when Smiley was born, I was bound to do it right and while I think she did most of the work, I also think it helped that I set the stage for a sound night's sleep.

I digress. The point of this post is to lament the passing of bedtime snuggles with my little Smiley.

I bless you, little darling, for going to sleep easily, for sleeping through the night (barring any teething unpleasantness), but I also miss you and your cuddles.

Good thing she still climbs to her perch on my left shoulder during daylight hours. Let that never cease.

The 5:33 Wake-Up Call

My daughter is a good sleeper. For that I am grateful on a daily basis. After going through a rough year and a half with my son, I know the good stuff when I see it.

I say that so this next comment doesn't come across as a complaint.

She wakes up at the same time every morning. Pretty much on the dot. I hear a few babbling sounds on the monitor close to my bed, always relieved when they are happy sounds - crying means it's in the middle of the night - and so I know it's time to wake.

I give it a few minutes, then check the clock: 5:33 AM.

I bring her to bed with me, where she 'reads' books or animal flash cards. What I am most happy about is that we get to cuddle with these flash cards, in a warm bed mind you, for a good 20 to 30 minutes. This gives a tired mama a little time to adjust to the dawning of a new day.

When she starts throwing the flash cards overboard, it's time to get moving.

I love this gentle morning wake ups, even if it is really, really early.

Sweet Little Lies

There is a scene in Sleepless in Seattle where Meg Ryan is on a plane sitting next to one of the Ephron sisters (the screenwriters), and So-and-So Ephron observes that Meg's character looks anguished over something.

Ephron says, "Don't you hate flying?" To which Meg replies, "Yes, and I just told the most awful one to the man I'm about to marry. Do you think any lie is a betrayal?"

I'm contemplating this question as I realize I'm in a pattern of telling Turbo little white lies. I believe they are all for the greater good, usually for better sleep, and yet I think part of me does feel a little guilty. Or maybe not. I'm sure it's not the last time I'll have to fib to my kids. They don't get to know all the secrets this young, do they? Santa, anyone?

For example, the lie I seem to be saying these days is, "I'll be right back." It goes a little something like this.

Middle of the night cries from Turbo, "Mommyyyyyyyyyyy. Mommyyyyyyyyy!"

I quietly enter Turbo's room (which he shares with Smiley, by the way... tricky), and soothe him back to  what I think is full-on sleep and as I'm trying to creep slowing out of the room, he cries out again, "Mommyyyy. Come my bed."

Now, I could repeat all my magical soothing work, which I've done countless times over the nearly 3 years he's been in our lives, but instead I tiptoe back to his bed, lean down to kiss him, smooth the wispy hair from his forehead and whisper:

"Mommy has to go potty, Turbo. I'll be right back."

or

"Mommy has to take out her contacts. I'll be right back. You wait here."

And it works pretty much every time. He believes I'm coming back, so it settles him and I don't have to stick around for the (potentially) really long haul where I sometimes fall asleep myself in an uncomfortable, squashed-in-a-twin-bed position.

But, luckily, he's a great sleeper now so this doesn't even happen that often. I wish I could go back to the mom I was when Turbo was 8 months old and reassure myself that his awful sleep habits would not last. Sometimes I miss those late night snuggles with 8-month-old Turbo.

Luckily, I have another one. And she's a great snuggle buddy.

8 Hours of Sleep

I always laugh when I read health articles about the importance of getting 8 hours of sleep. Most of them (dare I say 'all'?) tell you that you need to get 8 hours, and if you're not getting 8 hours then you need to adjust your priorities so that you can get your full 8 hours of sleep each night. Oh, and sleep more on weekends if you can't get 8 each weeknight, so as to refill your sleep deficit.

Oh, really.

Hey, Turbo and Smiley, there are some Cheerios in the cupboard and milk is in the fridge. Banana on the kitchen counter, if you can reach it. Mama's sleepin' in.

But, seriously, I do agree that sleep is really important. It was never more clear to me than when I was feeding a newborn round the clock. You stumble, you hurt, your eyes sting. You struggle for words when you speak to your friends and family. You say, "bring me the ketchup," when what you really mean is, "hand me the baby."

Yep. Sleep, good uninterrupted sleep, fixes a lot of little gaps in my daily skill set.

I only wish some of these health articles would come with some sort of warning label: "Warning: Does not apply to you if you are pregnant, or have children in your house. You may skip this article and move on to watching more birth-without-pain videos, or more online episodes of the Backyardigans."

But last night... ahh... 8 hours, baby!

Thank you, Smiley. Thank you, Turbo. Mama likes sleep.

Let's hope I'm as lucky tonight. I got Zumba tomorrow and I loves me some Zumba. Zumba requires sleep.

Finding Time

Goodness, it's been a long week.

I have had several winning blog topics cross my path this past week, but we had a little sleep problem creep up in my house and it just goes to show you (or me, rather) that a lack of sleep affects everything.

I think Smiley is teething. At least I hope that's what is going on with her. Other than her 6-9 month obligatory I-will-not-sleep-well phase, she's been a pretty good sleeper. I've come to rely on this. Sure, she wakes a wee bit early around 5 AM, but she also wakes with smiles and endless chatter and is good for about 20 minutes of warm snuggles in our bed. I need those 20 minutes to pry my eyelids open.

Last night it felt like we had a newborn in the house. I could travel to Hawaii with the bags under my eyes. Ugh.

It was Sunday, so I was finishing making Smiley's food supply for the week - blend some soup, chop some carrots and egg yolks and bananas, and mix the pumpkin+apple+cilantro+chili power that she loves.

Around 10 PM, when I was just sitting down to write her schedule out for the daycare (new routine just started, so notes are helpful), Smiley decided she was no longer interested in sleep and would rather stand up, hold the railing and holler, "MOOOOOOOOMMYYYYYYYY!" -- or at least that is what my special decoder ring told me.

2 hours of me trying a bottle, cuddles, rocking, walking, teething gel, and even telling her firmly to go to sleep (it was worth a shot, right?), I gave in and assumed she was hurting somewhere.

We walked downstairs, where my poor, bleary-eyed husband was washing bottles and Smiley is looking downright perky to be up so late hangin' with Ma and Pa. She actually giggled. But, then, I giggle when I'm that exhausted too.

Tylenol to the rescue and she was asleep within 30 minutes and I crawled into my own bed. Relax.

Not so fast, mom. Now it's Turbo's turn to cry out. I think he did pretty well for 2 hours of nearly non-stop crying and super loud noises from his baby sister.

Back to work I go.

I finally got in my own bed around 3:30 AM.

See. Newborn stuff.

Zzz.

Twin Bed Fits Three

I never expected to try this theory out, but apparently you can fit 3 people very snuggly into a twin bed.

Of course, it helps if one of them is an infant and the other a toddler.

And, may I also say, that it helps this mama out tremendously that I already had a full spa day planned for myself. My body is tweaked and wrecked and a little bit creaky. My kids are cute and all, but it wasn't exactly restful, restorative sleep for me.

Still, I woke up smiling, because both of them woke up smiling and laughing and I am pretty sure this is one of those happy moments that I'll never forget.

And now, ta dum, onto a rare and lovely just-for-me day... spa day, here I come!!