Our bed last night: J had two night terrors and Rusty slept sideways. Roo screamed for a bottle. It was hot. I contemplated moving to the couch, but Hutton was there. And, at the time, it seemed like a really long ways.
This morning: Minus an atomic bomb or pot of ice water, no alarm on earth could wake me. I chugged a cup of coffee and took a shower, interrupted by little boys peeing and Joey asking for a second bottle then, once I exited the shower, demanding Cheerios and (get this) shredded Parmesan cheese.
I gave her both. The cheese spilled everywhere. Brad walked in the back door from practice and, instead of cleaning up after J so that I could leave, immediately became absorbed in a phone call he felt needed to be made that second. So I grabbed the broom, giving J the opportunity to play with my sunglasses. And by “play” I mean twist the arm sideways.
I yelled. She cried. I yelled at Brad. He was unphased. He calmly told me to just go, and he’d handle it all. I left with very little confidence in that happening.
And the only thing that I know for sure out of all of this is that I’m tired. Very, very tired.