Friday, August 21, 2009


I sort of rouse myself from a really good dream about me and Hugh Jackman, a deserted beach, and . . . well, I' didn't get to finish my dream because my youngest was yelling.
I wipe the drool from my chin and sit up, hoping it's just a really bad dream and I can lay down and resume my explorations of a day with Wolverine.
No dream. so then, because I have just enough experience to know the minute i get up and got o check on her, she'll either be back asleep or ready to play, I wait through two more "mama" cries.
Then I get up.
My not so beloved at 1am, 3am, and 4:30 am daughter is standing in her crib waiting on me.
And she hands me a sippie cup.
Incredulous, I look at it, then her.
"I don't get paid enough for nighttime waitress duty," I mutter as I fill her sippie. The first time with kitchen water and ice cubes. By the third time, its warm water from the bathroom tap.
Happy, she lays back down, grabs her Bear Bear blankie, puts her butt in the air and sleeps.
While I go back to my bed, try to rearrange my pillows and blankets more times that a dog would (and, yes, I did spin in circles a few time before laying down!), as i searched for cold spots for the body parts that wanted cold and warm spots for those that wanted warmth.
Just to find as soon as I dozed off (after watching one episode of The Nanny and two of Robot Chicken) that I was to be summoned once more.

1 comment:

Tara said...

You left Hugh Jackman? Sweetie - it is time to leave a jug in her room!