It's monday. A day fraught with errands, laundry and the general leftover weekend mess that finds itself in between me and lounging around. All day I have been going non-stop exercising (hello baby weight, still trying to lose you), taking the boy to school (wahoo! one kid down!), nursing, putting the other down (god bless nap time), laundry, dishes, tea (blessed caffeine), laundry, pilates, nursing, lunch, groceries, picking up the boy, nursing, naptime (wahoo, 2 naps a day for the baby still!), laundry, making bread, making supper, supper, nursing, laundry and then, finally, bedtime for the kids.
Thank god.
I am sitting here enjoying my fine alcoholic beverage when over the top of the sound of the washer and dryer I hear something. It's not constant and it is very faint. Persistent even. I finally haul my butt out of my chair to go listen in the other room and DAMMIT. Sure enough, it's my son.
Mom, pleeeeeeease.....
**sigh**
What is it????
I'm hot.
What?? It's going to cool down tonight, buddy, you are going to want those covers. Just stick your foot out one side.
(pause)
It's not working enough.
**sigh**
Fine. Here's your old blanket.
I should have known the control foot wasn't going to work, the kid only likes to sleep if he can have the covers over his head and around his body chrysalis-style.
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