An entire night of sleep for Christmas? Sounds purrrrfect. (image from wallsa.com)
Every body Pauses and stares at me
These two baggy eyes are plain to see
I know just who to blame for this catastrophe!
But my one wish on Christmas Eve is as plain as it can be!
All I want for Christmas
is a good night’s sleep,
a good night’s sleep,
yes, a good night’s sleep!
Gee, if I could only
get a good night’s sleep,
then I could wish you
“Merry Christmas.”
It seems so long since I could say,
“Wow I feel so well rested!”
Gosh oh gee, how happy I’d be,
if in earplugs I invested!
All I want for Christmas
is a good night’s sleep,
a good night’s sleep,
yes, a good night’s …
Employers: do you really want drool on that paperwork? No? Then create a nap room. (image from: http://www.telegraph.co.uk)
I can’t remember the last time I got a solid night’s sleep. And by solid, I mean six hours, uninterrupted. Anything more is just extravagance. Even when we’ve shipped the kids off to the grandparent’s for a night, or when we escaped for a weekend (whee), I still woke up. It might take an entire bottle of wine, or some super powerful sleeping pills to knock me out. Still, I know I get more sleep now than when I was working full time. No, SAHMs don’t get to take luxurious naps during the day (unless their kids are in school), but I do get to sleep in a little bit later, and work stress doesn’t keep me up at …
Don’t you wish parenting came with one of these? (image from turbosquid.com)
Just a couple of days ago, I was freaking out that my 17 month old is already escaping from her crib. Like always, I took to Twitter and Facebook crowd sourcing for ideas. Should I move her to a toddler bed? Give her a serious talking to? Let her take our bed and we’ll sleep on the floor? (Kidding, people) I wrote that first post while she was sleeping in her crib, for her nap. I thought maybe I was freaking out for nothing. Maybe she would go ahead and stay in her crib, and only get out when she woke up. Ha! I am seriously funny.
I put her to bed that night, and thought we were …
I unplugged, and plugged in to what matters most. (image from nourish.lifecoaching.com)
Perhaps the headline is a bit dramatic, but it would make a great TV drama, don’t you think? We’re so connected to our online networks (and I think that’s a good thing), that we often can’t imagine what we would do if we couldn’t log in. No Facebook notifications, no Twitter mentions, no Google Plus…whatever. I’m just not that into Google Plus. Yesterday, I chose to log out of all social networks, and I actually didn’t venture online at all. At 10ish Saturday night, I logged out, and didn’t log in until just a few minutes ago (8 a.m. Central on Monday morning). I had 10 Facebook notifications, 2 inbox messages, and 4 Twitter mentions. And my blog traffic? Ha! The lowest it’s ever …
You think you can contain me? Game on. And that scrape on my nose? You should have seen the other kid!
At 15 months old, my youngest escaped from her crib for the first time. I heard her crying upstairs, and knew the sound was a little too close to her door. We were shocked. And scared. We weren’t ready. She wasn’t ready. But fortunately, the fall must have scared her, because she didn’t try it again. But now, she’s a little bit bigger, a little bit older, and at 17 months, she’s got it down. Just a lift of the leg, a hoist, and she’s free. Game on.
I’m completely unprepared for this. My first daughter didn’t start doing this until 20 months or so, and even then, she just didn’t care to escape, even …
Image from reallifetravels.com
Bring on the potions
Bring on the pills
Bring on the excitement
Bring on the thrills
I’m plucking my eyebrows
I’m waxing my legs
I’m dancing on tables
I’m standing on kegs
Ditch the minivan
Bring me a Caddy
Don’t call me mommy
Don’t call him daddy
No more Cheerios
No more crumbs
No more boogers
Sticking on thumbs
We’re going out tonight
We’re getting all clean
We’re living it up
Rage Against the Momchine!
…………
Before you start to worry about me, this is just a little creative expression. I’m a little disgruntled.
I only own mom jeans. We’re buying a minivan. I feel better now.