I’ve been doing the zombie walk around the house today. You know. The one with dull, staring, bloodshot, unseeing eyes, shambling through the house muttering about “must have caffeine”. This morning was the second morning in a row where the little pumpkin woke up between 2:30 and 3:00 a.m. ready to play OR ELSE and didn’t go back down for a nap for three hours or so. That was AFTER she decided to go to sleep somewhere between 11:30 p.m. and midnight.
Poor Mommy has to get up early to go to work. Since I do not want Mommy to euthanize the public, which she is wont to consider doing when she doesn’t have enough sleep because she IS my daughter, I took over the early morning floor walking and baby bouncing without even asking permission. I probably ought to get some sort of humanitarian award for that. A chocolate humanitarian award with a double shot of caffeine would be nice.
SwampMan, bless his heart, took the boys out to breakfast earlier this week to give me a chance to get some things done around the house since I would only have the little pumpkin to care for. No “MeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeMaw, I need more choclit milk!” No “Meeeeeeeeeeemaw, I’m not hungry right now!” and then, right after breakfast is finished “Meemaw, I would like breakfast now”. I spent the time while everybody was gone in rapt adoration of the tiny little fingers and toes on the little pumpkin while she slept in my arms. Giant housekeeping fail!
So, today, after lunch, SwampMan took the boys off again for various chores and then off to town for a milkshake. *sniff* I think a lonely, bereft milkshake is calling my name out there somewhere. Maybe a humanitarian award chocolate and peanut butter milkshake. I did get half the house vacuumed. No dusting, though. The dishwasher was loaded (and started this time). Towels were folded. Mostly, though, I carried a little pumpkin around in my arms because she cried like I was breaking her teensy little heart every time I put her down.
Well. Guess it is time to break her teensy lil’ heart before SwampMan comes home and says “NOT AGAIN!” The bathroom and kitchen counters need some urgent attention and, if she sleeps longer than a little catnap, I need to find Ruby’s old kennel, clean it, and prepare for Border Collie’s weekend visit. I think Sheila would be a good name for the dog. Not that I’m going to keep her. But if I DID, that is what I would name her.
*sigh* The lil’ pumpkin didn’t sleep long enough for me to write the post. She’s giving me the “attend me NOW, serf!” stare.