This morning I was woken by Boo DEMANDING to know if he can sleep in my bed tonight.
Boo of the ‘all night rave party and sleep is for the WEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAK baby, lets watch the same damn scene from Sponge Bob over and over and over again and laugh and laugh and hey lets put footprints on the walls and shred this wet nappy into little wet splodges all over the place! Wooo Hooo!’
And seeing the little darling has barely slept a wink all week it should be a freaking BLAST.
And can someone tell me WHY OH WHY are kids incapable of being woken on a school morning without threats of world destruction and global warming catastrophes (the only way to get him out of bed is to turn on the shower and cry ‘OMG get in the shower we are wasting water!) but on a weekend they bound out of bed full of energy at half past sparrow fart and empty out the pantry of all the good stuff you were saving for when they were sleeping?
I was looking forward to those chips too.
Anywho. Every fucker in the world is testing my damn patience lately and all I wanna do is curl up with a bottle of bourbon and some ‘you done me wrong and my dog is dead’ music.
And I don’t like either of that shit so I am thinking that maybe the fuckers are doing me a service but what the hell do I know I haven’t had a good nights sleep since 1998.*
So today I am going to sloth around in my yoga pants, chuck my hair up in a ponytail and ignore the world.
Which is just a great big HELLO to the universe and I will have a day of drop ins. And you know how much I HATE drop ins.
*nobody ask me about the weekend away to sleep thing. It was a dream, a fantasy… kinda like me getting back into my size 8 (American size 2) jeans from highschool that I still have in my cupboard and like to get out occasionally to beat myself around the head with and screw with my self esteem and then go out and buy more shoes cause feet never have a fat day and that is why feet are awesome unless they have tinea or hangnails or bunions or something and then they are all ewww get some damn cream already.
{ 19 comments }
Awww, dontcha just loooove kids? Why did we have em again?
You are more of a woman than I could ever be. I bow at thine feeties.
What is with that weekend wake up at the butt crack of dawn thing?
Annie was up at 4am this morning… after me dragging her kicking at screaming out of bed at 8am every school day.
Fuckin’ kids.
Someone “dropped in” on me today at home. You should have seen my face. It was not a good day to drop in.
The waking-up-early-at-weekends thing is a plot by children to drive parents out of their tiny little minds. And they only wake up early and hop out of bed and demand to get in with you or raid the kitchen or “dance” like a herd of elephants or hold shrieking competitions if there’s no violin lesson that Saturday. ‘Cos otherwise they’re *meant* to be getting up, and that just wouldn’t do. On violin lesson days they hide with their heads under the blankets and whinge “But it’s Sat-ur-day…”
Ahem. Sorry. Also need sleep.
If I lived near you I would totally drop in and leave you some chips! Then run away.
You know what else fucks my head sideways?
The Damn Emos come stomping out of their rooms at like ELEVEN FUCKING AM!!! and are all ‘will you tell Boo to be quiet I am trying to sleep!’ and I am all death glare but they can’t see it through all the smeared black eyeliner and hair in their eyes.
drop-ins are THE worst.
The question of school morning-wake-the-hell-up-already Vs Weekend-you-know-how-to-turn-the-tele-on-so-go-away-already is a question for the ages.
Of course, my children slept in this morning which was nice of them … unfortunately, my husband woke at sparrow’s fart and decided that I must be faking sleep at 5am and began a conversation requiring a response from me. I then “shh”d him and he got all snitty. Idiot.
“Hey, won’t you play another “Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song”….(by Kenny Rogers and some girl who isn’t Dolly Parton).
My feet have fat days. Well, fat mornings. They swell a little as I’m sleeping and my slippers don’t fit until I’ve walked around a bit.
you should totally go deaf.
it is the best cure for drop ins
you can let them knock for HOURS and be all:
what? you knocked for hours? oh i didn’t hear you!
and they can say nothing! NOTHING!
just dont forget to lock the fucking door.
If they’re up that early – find shit for them to do – dishes, laundry, yardwork, paint the room, etc. You won’t see them til the sun goes down.
If you wrap their hair around their face the emo child will learn to breathe through a straw underwater.
you know what’s worse than drop ins?
The ‘back door let themselves in’ drop ins while you are napping or showering or rubbing cream under your chaffed boobs while sitting naked on your bed with the bedroom door open and you are only alerted when someone calls out to you as they are halfway up the hall……
Wuss.
I haven’t slept well in years, either, though it hasn’t been quite that many years. At least when I’m not pregnant, I’ll be able to drink myself into a coma! Something to look forward to!
Drop-ins suck.
I hate to gloat, but our kids actually gave us a sleep-in on Saturday. Don’t worry, it is possibly the first weekend sleep-in since we had them. They prefer us to sleep through the alarm on weekdays so we call all be stressed and late!
Hmm… I read blogs on a similar topic, but i never visited your blog. I added it to favorites and i’ll be your constant reader.
Goddamn…a week at the beach and I miss so much in your life….
You STILL haven’t taken me up on making those hotel reservations for you….that would solve a number of these issues I think….offer is still there!
Comments on this entry are closed.