Lucy woke up at 2:00 this morning with a bad dream. I walked her back to her room and lay down with her to pat her back until she fell back to sleep. I awoke three hours later to the sound of Tennessee creeping down the stairs to look for me in my bed. I woke up and snuggled him back into his bed, laying down next to him on his tiny twin Big Boy Bed, hoping for another twenty minutes of cramped uncomfortable sleep. He was too hungry.
I feel the kind of strange that one only gets from a night of broken sleep, or a tequila bender. Either way, I am not at the top of my game. It is a glorious sunny day here in the City of Roses, and I should be out weeding and generally roughing up my yard, but I think writing this may be the only thing outside of the general “keeping the kids alive” duties that cannot be avoided. The sofa is calling my name, I will go to her, my precious kid stained sofa. I love her so, despite the way she smells when it is warm.
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