It seems like a stream of consciousness kind of night. As I listen to Tornado A talk to himself. He was awoken an hour and forty minutes ago by Tornado E’s crying, who was having a night mare. Now Tornado A can’t get back to sleep. He flips through books, plays his music box, and plays with his stuffed animals. And he’ll be up early. Well, I hope he is. I have this grand plan to get everyone ready early so that I can plunk them in front of the tv or a video game because I need to make a few phone calls that I’ve been putting off. And off. And off. So pathetic. I swear I’ll do them at the best time of the day for calls, which is nap/DVD time when I can actually hear the person talk without having a child whine for something (juice, toys, food, my attention, being held), but I always find something else to do. Like read blogs or news. Like clean the house or study for math. Or kill zombies. Right. So phone calls are first on this list. Then dropping off Tornado E and going to the organic grocery store. I need to visit a friend to deliver her Amish friendship bread and a starter and her daughter’s sandal. I hope the bread turned out well; I tried a new variation. And I baked brownies yesterday, but I really want to bake some Irish soda bread. And there’s a spider on my ceiling. (See, that. Stream of consciousness.) I should put away my laundry. I should read some blogs. I should go to bed early, but I did that last night, and I dozed for the first hour or so. Then I was ready to pop out of bed at 5am. Don’t worry. I resisted the urge and got lost in daydreams for the next hour and a half. Not only did I wait for my alarm. I “slept in.” Some days I miss sleeping in. Some days I think I got a handle on this whole thing, and then I realize that it will get harder and it will change. I will change. I will adapt. I am a butterfly. I am The Phoenix. There’s Tornado A. I should check on him.