Babycakes

I'm sitting on the couch watching Savannah chatter away and suck on a magnadoodle pen (don't worry, it's quite large and not choke-y) while Emma is practically on top of the t.v. watching Clifford. And I'm half-thinking "Why am I not caring that these girls are doing 2 things I don't usually let them?". And I'm other-half-thinking "Because that little beast woke me up every.stinkin'.half.hour, that's why".

This child neeeeeeeeeeeeeeds to sleep better. It's getting to the point where I no longer feel really bad for her when she's rubbing her ears and her mouth from teething pain; now I just sort of feel mildly concerned but mostly annoyed. And when I get broken 30-minute-at-a-time sleep I'm reduced to a crappy, grumpy, boring mom.

Like right at this moment, Sav is crying for me to come and play with her. But holy crow, child, I just wanted 10 minutes to myself and isn't your sister good enough to play with???

Apparently not. Apparently the apocalypse is happening right now. But only to my youngest child, who is screaming bloody murder.

It's gonna be a loooooooooong day.