How to they know?

How do kids just know when you are about to lose all. of. your. marbles. and either commit yourself to some institution or run as quickly as you can back to work? (Although as someone pointed out to me, running back to work wouldn’t solve our sleep issues. And since the sleep issues seem to be the root of most (if not all) of my kids behavior issues, I guess I would just end up being a tired, unproductive and equally guilt-ridden employee. So institutionalization it is. Or maybe the circus.)

Last night, after what could be deemed a middle of the road bedtime (only five trips back upstairs, thanks for asking) everyone slept. Through the night. 7:30 to 6:30. That my friends, if I counted correctly, is eleven hours of blissful silence. And since I managed to get myself into bed by 10:30, that meant that I got eight hours. EIGHT HOURS OF SLEEP! I feel well, semi-human. Especially after my morning dose of caffeine. We have now been up for an hour, and no one has yet tried to strangle, push, or toy-steal. “Please,” “thank you,” and “you’re welcome” have all been heard.

I can’t imagine that the rest of my day will go so smoothly, but I’ll take what I can get right now. I wonder if I should dare to brave some holiday shopping with the kids in tow this afternoon, or if that would be pushing my luck.

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