I’m giddy and slightly delusional from lack of sleep. I won’t crash until the afternoon, which I figured that I might as well write while Tornado S is being educated by Sesame Street. Maybe they can teach him the ABCs, since I’m having little success.
My dreams were invaded by baby talk. I didn’t wake up right away. Lately my dreams are all about being domesticated. The nightmares are about cleaning up toys. So when it finally penetrated my mind that the noise wasn’t part of the dream, I sat up.
To find Tornado A sitting in his crib, talking to me.
Leaving this thought process: What? What time is it? It’s f-ing a quarter to five! Oh no! Over my dead body! Come here. Snuggle with Mommy because you WILL go back to sleep. I need to drop the crib tomorrow- I mean today. Later today I need to drop the crib mattress. Don’t grab Mommy’s nose; grab the bear. What? What is that noise of padded feet? Oh no! Tornado E! Damnit. Don’t crawl on your brother. Tornado A ignore your brother. Go to sleep! Tomorrow I’m calling the rental company about a bigger house. I mean today. Was it worth staying up incredibly late last night? Ssssshhh. Yes, it was. Stupid intern-
Luckily everyone slept in, and I woke twenty minutes before they awoke, so I got going early, and we were able to get to school on time with minimal use of The Voice.
Only to have Tornado E gleefully announce he left his lunch box at home.