Holding my Sanity in Their Chubby Little Hands

4am - Leah awake from a bad dream

5am - Ben awake, pointing at his ear - "hurts" he says, repeatedly

6am - Ben awake again (still?), pointing at ear. Wants his daddy to kiss it. Tries to sleep in our bed. In his room, he wakes up Leah, who is understandably frustrated.

6:15am - I take Ben downstairs and lay on the couch with him. He refuses the Tylenol I tell him will make him feel better.

6:30am - Leah is crying because there's no one in the room with her, and she's bored. BORED, people.

7am - Finally, I release both children to PBS and hope I can catch on hour of decent sleep.

7:30am - Ben is crying for breakfast. At this point I start bellowing.

8am - Ben is crying to get dressed, Leah has eaten breakfast. After dressing Ben, who then says he's tired, I tuck him in on the couch and announce that I am going to shower and should not be interrupted.

8:50am - I have showered, dressed, put away laundry, changed the sheets on our bed and straightened up our closet. Going downstairs to the ridiculously quiet living room, I find that BOTH children have fallen asleep on couches. Leah is not dressed for dance yet, so I wake her up. She doesn't want to GO to dance because she is tired and cold.

Ben spends all of dance on my lap cuddling, either eating his crackers or just holding his cars. Leah is excited about class after her friends show up, and comes out of class hyper as usual.

When we get home, Ben follows me around while to do small tasks, then falls asleep on the couch when he finally gets me to sit down. He doesn't eat any lunch except for peas. Leah doesn't really,either, but that's because she got distracted by Daddy's chips.

Ben takes an almost 2 hour nap, during which I get some shut-eye, also - but not enough. Leah says she's star-ving, but refuses to eat the rest of her lunch (3/4 of a peanut butter sandwich). She finally does, after doing her cartoon-cry for a bit.

The other child has finally eaten some other food - apple and fruit snacks.

And Baby #3? He's been moving, kicking, and sticking feet in my ribs for the last 12 hours.

I'm fairly certain that they are all plotting together to drive me insane.