Nights have been rough in these parts lately. Sasha doesn't want to go to bed, and Maya desperately wants to go to bed but can't stay asleep. It's a deadly combination.
Poor Maya is going through the 55-week sleep regression. She's also finally sprung a top tooth, and since odd numbers of teeth just don't last, it's a sure bet the other one is bothering her. So she goes to bed, totally wiped out, by 7:30, and then she wakes up again at 8:30. And 9:30. And 10:30. And midnight. And 2am. And 4am. And 6am.
This leaves us in ill temper to deal with Sasha, who is equally tired but dead set against falling asleep at a reasonable hour for reasons that are as inscrutable as they are misguided.
Tonight she went to bed without too much drama, but then at 9pm I found her holding a rave in her room. Literally. There she was, sitting upright in her bed, fiddling with her CD player and waving a glowstick in the air. And it's the kind of glowstick that strobes different colors, too, no gentle luminescing for my girl.
I keep trying to convince myself that eventually we'll all be tired enough that we will all at once miraculously begin sleeping well and long every day of the week... but my fatigue-addled brain can't quite picture what that frabjous day would look like.
My kitchen is: Filled with the delicious aroma of apple pie.
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Posted by: mikerosss on May 3, 2011 09:15 PM