My second born is very lucky. Very, very lucky indeed. Today was garbage day, and his ass was just about out there on the curb along with diaper genie contents and other assorted crap we discarded through the week. He is lucky that he is just too darned adoreable to hurt one little hair on his head.
The little bugger has decided over the past couple of nights to forgo the ritual that keeps his mother just on the edge of sanity - SLEEP. For two nights now, he has woken from his slumber at about 2 a.m. and decided it is just not fair that he be the only one wide awake and wanting to play. Oh no. Lets have a big 'ol party and wake up the house. Hell, while we are at it we may as well piss off the neighbours. Of course my hubby and first born are immune to the night-time festivities and could sleep through just about anything (Ken has even slept through our house alarm going off while someone was breaking in - thank goodness whoever it was figured out that a house that doesn't even have cable TV likely didn't have anything he could fence for more than $5).
I have just returned to work part time and this whole lack of sleep thing is just not a great thing to be dealing with at the ripe old age of 34. When I was young (and stupid - but having oh so much fun) I would on a regular basis actually CHOOSE to stay up all night long doing whatever (you can use your imagination) - sleep deprivation was a thing to be proud of, pulling all nighters writing papers or studying for exams not a big deal at all. At 34 however, it is a whole new ball game. Sleep is good. Very, very good. Not getting it sucks big time. Oh he is lucky he is cute.