Breathe

Q is lying in his bed. Awake. It's so very late for such a little guy to be up! He's had his medicine that should make him unable to resist sleep! He hit the ground running (so to speak) at 6 this morning! His nap was at a reasonable time!

I am so. tired. Have you ever been so tired that you were light sensitive? And found yourself squinting against the sun, vampire-like? And could feel your brain demanding new working conditions or else? I think my eyeballs will soon flop out of my head and run off as self-defense against any further abuse of this type.

Also? I'm nauseous. I can't string together sentences with the proper words, finding myself using any old word, as long as it has the proper prefix. As in: What an interminable thing to do. When E tried to poke K with a stick, narrowly missing K's eye, I wanted to say, "What an inappropriate thing to do!" But I couldn't think of anything other than "interminable" so instead of making a speech, I just "tomato staked" E for the next several hours instead. It worked out. Perhaps she felt it was interminable? Heh.

It's almost midnight now. Surely he would have fallen asleep by now? Let's pray, while I sneak a peek...

Nope. He's playing with his face, feeling his nose with great interest.

Well, since I'm up I can better appreciate the lighting effect on the glitter that S tracked about today, unwittingly. She leaned over Q and dropped quite a quantity over him, too. He was taken aback. Heck, I'm taken aback and I'm not covered in it like they were. We vacuumed and wiped and brushed and dusted, but you know glitter, always wanting to stick close by! Gotta love that static!! (Ignore the note of hysteria. My sense of humor is in a rapid decline.) By morning little gold flecks should be showing up in Q's diaper. Why not, it's everywhere else.

Okay. So I'm going to go reason with that littlest one and see if perhaps I can entice him into sleep with offers of, what, 6 hours straight of nursing? I bet he'll take it.

Aiggghhhhh...