We moved Quinn from the crib in her room two nights ago to a brand-spanking-new twin (exactly matching her sister’s, complete with sweet identical quilts over top because by golly, we are making their shared room AWESOME. That and SK asked that they match, which was just cute). Saoirse was thrilled at the prospect of sharing a room with her sister (what the WHAT?). Quinn, on the other hand, has been treating this as one part jail sentence (tears) and one part post-torture psychological breakdown (maniacal laughter, disjointed singing at odd times). No one in the house has gotten any sleep in the past 48 hours (maybe the maniacal, sleep-deprived laughter was from me, then?). I sent David a brief email today saying I wished we’d just gotten a second crib and not moved her into a bed at all. He thought I was hilarious (and kidding, apparently). So, I sent him another email. Because, you know, he has nothing better to do at work than read his deranged wife’s hysteria in action. Here’s the email I sent him, at around 2:30 p.m. Just so you can get an idea of our life these past few days. You know, to make you feel better about your own.
Snort. Am glad you’re amused. To elaborate, here’s how the world looks from my view:
- I haven’t showered.
- In fact, I’m still wearing my pjs.
- The house is a wreck bc I’ve been paying bills/doing paperwork all morning and chasing my sleep-deprived child around the house.
- Ask me if the house will be fixed by the time you get home.
- The answer is no.
- SK is lying in our bed because even though Q was starting to almost asleep when I asked SK to lie down, Q sprang awake and decided she’d perform a one-woman comedy show. SK really wanted own bed. Alas.
- If I had just let SK stay awake like she’d wanted, I would not be staring at a babbling 2-year-old right now doing headstands on her mattress.
- I brought my computer into Q’s room and am sitting on SK’s bed in hopes that my presence will help Q rest. She has moved on to start scratching at the wall. I’ll let you guess how this plan is working.
Needless to say, my dear, a grocery list has not been made, nor will be made or executed. I have no idea what we’re eating tonight. Either frittata (ew) or that Applebees (double ew) gift card you’ve squirreled away. I also have a coupon to [great local restaurant], but again, can’t really go there with two exhausted children and me still wearing a CHS Shakespeare Festival T-shirt from 1992.
I am chalking today up to a lost one, I think. Either that or a banging-my-head-against-the-wall one. Trying not to think that there will be many more like these once B3 is here (speaking of whom, the little rascal is doing a trampoline exercise in my lower uterus. It feels like s/he’s just going to jump out through the bottom. Enjoy that visual…
Love you. Hope your day is going better. If I were smart I’d toss up my hands and lie down with Q (currently sitting on the foot of SK’s bed in preparation to jump to her mattress), but dammit, I’ve starting chapter 9 of my book [note to reader, if you're still with me: yes, I'm still editing the manuscript of that novel I started a billion years ago, but more on that in, say, a few months] and am THISCLOSE to the climax.
Heh. Heh. I said climax.
Okay. She’s now forming a toddler bridge from one bed to the other. I think I’m going to give up, let her run around the house, and stick her into bed at 6 p.m.
BTW, I have to get my drivers license photo taken. Tomorrow okay?
Love you. Quinn now climbing headboard. Gotta run.