Momma Needs A Nap

Okay, I seriously need to blog a lot, so that my last post gets pushed down and maybe even to the next page, cuz it's creeping me out a little every time I see the Reborn pics. I probably could've used one pic to get my point across, versus twenty. Also, also, it's making me want a newborn.  A little baby boy newborn. Not a Reborn newborn, a real, keep-me-up-all-night-and-drain-every-last-drop-of-energy-and-beauty-I-have-left-but-dang-they-smell-SO-GOOD, wonderful newborn baby boy. And that is REALLY creeping me out. (smiiiiile)  Instead I will blog and sleep.

Speaking of sleep.  I'm tired.  Like dog-tired.  I knew it was serious when I went to tuck A-girl in her bed and actually climbed in, under her covers and positioned not one, but two pillows to make myself comfortable.  I let the girl read the whole book to me, which is usually excruciating coming from a 6-yr-old who just learned how to read.  Slow as molasses. 

Then I went in O's room and repeated that whole scene.  I even pulled the second blanket up and got real cozy.  We snuggled.  It's her favorite. 

Then reality flipping crept in and I remembered I still had lunches to make, a coffee pot to set, a dog and cat to feed, laundry to fold and the garbage and recycling to take out.  Dang. 






It is just that crazy holiday season that makes the Go, Go, Go even more so.  You all know what I'm talking about, cuz you're doing it too.  Aren't you tired?  I'm not gonna be all Scrooge, cuz I loooove Christmas.  It's my favorite.  I love sitting in the family room all cozied up on the couch with just the Christmas tree lit.  I love taking the long way home to see Christmas lights. I love seeing Christmas trees tied to car roofs. I love Christmas music. I love Eggnog lattes.  I love online shopping and especially love the gift wrap option.

I don't love getting stuck at the stop light for THREE lights in a row, to turn into Target. I don't love the mall normally and won't even look at it during this time of year.  If I don't see it, it's not there. And the post office gives me hives. That's about it.  I love everything else about this time of year.  Though I'm probably forgetting something...cuz I need sleep.

Oh yes, sleeeeep.  Just typing that out, makes me jealous. I'm just thinking about the day I have in store and it's making me upset, cuz I need to not be blogging right now.  This week has been nuts.  With all the regular stuff I have to do as a single mother (cuz the hubby is never, ever here)--plus the dance class, dance recitals, the Christmas rush, carpet shampooing, school play, unclogging the toilet--I have all this PTO stuff going on.  Today, I deliver cookie dough all over Portland.  I have to cross bridges and everything.  I even have the PTO duties on Saturday.  It's movie night at the school, so I may be able to squeeze a nap in there. My only day "off" is Friday, of which I will fill up to the brim with stuff I actually want to do, like drive in my car with a friend and get coffee and absolutely not go to the mall or Target or the school or over bridges.  Maybe we'll just nap in the car, in the driveway.  I think I can talk my friend into this.

This is another indicator that I need sleep.  I slept on the couch last night.  Not like dozed off (which is the norm), but crashed.  I fell asleep watching Ghost Hunters (also a huge indicator that something's off, cuz I turn into a werewolf if I miss this show) and woke up at 3:00 a.m.!  Never, in the history of Sunshine has that happened.  I was so upset, cuz I love my bed.  It's good.  Plus, it's weird shutting down the house, turning off the outside Christmas lights and turning on the dryer at 3:00 a.m. I don't know why it's weird, but that thought occurred to me. 





I'm daydreaming about January.  Which stinks, cuz #1, it's January and #2, I love Christmas.  I really do.  I just want to enjoy Christmas like you do when you're eight-year's-old, is all.  I want to wear feety pajamas (not really, I didn't even like them when I was eight), beg for candy canes every five minutes, open the little window on the Advent calendar and get really excited over a little window-sized piece of terrible chocolate, tell you what I want for Christmas, and just show up. Plus, you could care less about naps when you're eight.  That trumps it all.