Old.

I have the awful habit of stay up until the wee hours of the morning.

I feel like that is my time.  My time to decompress.  My time to watch whatever I want.  My time to drink wine.  My time to have adult conversations without interruption with my night owl friends.

My body is exhausted.

I run on caffeine and pure exhaustion most days.

How I do not have bags under my eyes is beyond me.

I go to sleep between 12am and 2am.

I wake for the day at 6:30am.

I zombie walk to the kitchen and press the large cup button on my Keurig (one of God's greatest inventions AND one of the last gifts I received before Iron Man became a Jehovah's Witness... giving up all holidays).

I barely make it to 7am.

That is when the coffee kicks in and I am READY.

This week I have made it a habit to sleep a little better.

Saturday night I was in bed by 9:30.

Sunday night was a little rough.  I had to watch Emily Thorne kick ass.  I was in bed by 10:30ish.

Monday night was 10ish.

Tuesday night I was in bed when Ryan got home from work.  I think he thought I was sick or something.

Ryan hates when I come to bed super late.  Especially when I come to bed after 12am and turn the TV on.  It drives him up the wall.

I have got to get a hold of my sleeping schedule.  Winter months are coming and with the lack of sleep and germs running rampant, I am going to be sick as a dog.

So, here is to earlier phone calls, friends.... and earlier glasses of wine... and watching TV shows when they actually come on TV...

I just have to accept it and move on.   I am getting old.  See, I can admit it... kind of.

sleep

The past two days have been hellish.

I'm exhausted.

Yes, I am complaining.

Fevers, vomit all over the backseat of my car, babysitting for friends (on top of my two children), taking pictures, editing pictures, somewhat cleaning the house...

it is no wonder that Ryan found us like this...


This picture is just further verification that I need a chin job along with 5 million other "jobs".

Naptime sucks.

Trying to get Caroline down for a nap is a nightmare.

A.Freaking.Nightmare.

I would rather pull my hair out, have a root canal, eat raw chicken, or cut my arm off.

It is that terrible.

She kicks.

She screams.

She pulls my hair.

She hits.

She eventually gives up.

She gives in to sleep.

She's pissed about it though. She can't even rest well because she is so pissed that she is asleep.

BUT, thank goodness (for me) she is asleep. Peace at last.

Yesterday (in the middle of her screaming spell while trying to go down for a nap) she all of a sudden stopped screaming.

I thought it was a miracle. I started thanking God.

"Thank you God for being on my side today. It..."

She looked at me with a very serious face and eyes. She said, "Mannnnnnnnn! My cell phone ringing."

"Ok back up homegirl. You are two. You don't have a cell phone so... you don't hear one ringing."

"Uh-huh! Me do have cell phone. Hear it? Shh! Hear it?"

"No. I don't hear it. Lay down!"

"It's ringing! Me need to talk!" She screamed this. Do this one in your best two year old screaming voice.

Well, let's just say she went all Linda Blair/Exorcist on me.

The next 15 minutes were so much fun that afterwards I decided to rip my eyeballs out.