on Monday morning, Scarlett was up bright and early (think 6 a.m.) screaming like a banshee. not sure why, other than maybe that was her way of saying thanks. thanks for up and leaving me for a week, you rotten parents IMMA SHOW YOU. unfortunately, pulling the pillow over your head in an attempt to tune out a situation such as this one, I learned, just doesn't work. period.
because the pitch of the scream suddenly jumped to 170 decibels, the approximate sound of a rifle going off right beside your head. HOW DARE YOU IGNORE ME LIKE THAT!!!
oh that's such a lovely good morning song, Scarlett! how thoughtful of you! in fact, I couldn't think of a better way to start the day CAN YOU PLEASE GO BACK TO BED NOW? I mean, come on. don't you care that I was up every two hours last night with your little brother?
unfortunately, once an eighteen month-old has made up their mind, there's absolutely no changing it. not even if I promised to be her friend on facebook.
the rest of the morning consisted of feeding, burping, changing three (yes THREE!) diaper butts, breaking up fights between Rowan and Scarlett, laundry, more feeding, more burping, more changing, more laundry IS IT LUNCH TIME YET?
as I went about the afternoon in a coma-like state, I was suddenly thankful that hey! at least my job didn't involve the use of my brain. but what about Gary? surely he had to be sleep-typing at his desk by now, the poor guy. I guess he told his co-workers, "if you catch me sleeping at my desk, don't wake me up."
oh well, what's a little sleep deprivation, eh? like my Grandma always said, "you can sleep in your grave." sounds morbid I know, but I'm beginning to agree with her.
my three little diaper butts, how cute are they?
|Rowan, Finley (11 days) and Scarlett.|