The Perils of Poor Eyesight

It's not a good day here at Thorny Central.

Yes, it's true, I've only officially been awake for 35 minutes, but it's been a much longer morning than that.

This thing where Caz works second shift and then puts in four hours of overtime, getting home at 2:30 a.m.? Bites. Because of course we're not grownups who just go straight to bed when he gets home, nor am I the sort of grownup I ought to be, where I just go to sleep when I get tired, whether he's home or not.

So we wind up staying up for an hour, or maybe even two, before finally going to sleep.

Which is deeply hazardous to your headspace when one of your toddlers keeps insisting on getting up at the buttcrack of dawn.

So from about 7:15 on (he let us sleep in later than yesterday), we struggled with Ben, trying to lure him into going back to sleep with us in our bed, never mind that he almost never does that, and certainly never after 12 hours of sleep. Hope springs eternal when you've only got less than three hours of sleep under your belt.

So there was a lot of drowsing off only to have him bodyslam into us, or only to kind of come to enough to realize that he was scraping a capped pen across the front of the monitor. At which point I staggered up, without even bothering with my glasses, to return the pen to its rightful place in the Writing Implement Cup (pens and pencils - we don't discriminate around here) and drag Ben back toward our bed, to try once more to will him into unconsciousness, even for just one more precious hour.


Whups. I guess there wasn't a cap on that pen after all. sigh.

Today does not seem to be a good day to be a monitor.



Yesterday was not a good day to be a cantaloupe around here, either.

TAGYWTNIF. (Thank any god you wish to name it's Friday.)