At least the couch is comfortable

I got kicked out of my bed last night.

Literally.

Ok… Not quite literally, just kicked until I gave up and left of my own accord.

I am exhausted. The Peach is not sleeping well at all. In all honesty, I don’t think I’d be sleeping soundly if my ass looked like hers does at the moment. So I am being understanding. But I’m still fucking tired. She sleeps in her crib for a few hours and then, round about 10pm or so, starts rustling and whimpering in her sleep. At which point The Zen Master or myself bustle down to her room and pat-pat-pat and croon softly before she fully wakes herself up. This buys us another hour. Then the fussing starts. And the pat-pat-pat no longer works for more than about 90 seconds. eventually she sits up in her crib, bleary-eyed with some truly epic bed-head and whines like a little puppy. Giving up on the crib, we will pick her up and change her diaper, make sure her butt is clean, dry and medicated and head on back to our own bed with a heavy-lidded, slighty tearful, sniffling Peach on our hip. Bottle, Binky, Elly, snuggle with whichever one of us is her current favorite. She’ll be back to sleep within about 20 minutes. Unfortunately, her sleep at this point is restless and floppy and spastic and she will flail her limbs about at random intervals, slapping, kicking and thwacking surprisingly heavy little limbs at our various body parts. The Zen Master can apparently sleep through this assault most of the time. Unfortunately, every time I’m on the receiving end of one of those haphazard wollops, I startle awake like somebody just threw a snowball at my head.

Last night, by about 1-2 am, I just gave up, grabbed my pillow and headed to the couch.

Did I mention Princess Punk had practice this morning?

 

 

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