Last night's sleep wasn't horrible by any means, but it wasn't super duper either. I stupidly stayed up later than I wanted to...Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert comedic abilities are just too much to ignore. And then Alex woke up around midnight and he was not pleased.
First he wanted some milk. I brought the milk. DUH, that's not what he wanted. He wanted juuuuuuuuice! With an ice cube! And he wanted to help me! Juice? yes. Ice cube? Sure. Getting out of bed to help me? No way, no how kiddo. But then he wanted his juice while we sat and rocked. I saw an explosion following any sort of negative response to that, and I gave in. After rocking with some juice, all was again right in the world and we all went back to sleep.
I don't know if I have mentioned it, but I signed up for a half marathon. And it is happening in two days. Anxiety is reaching maximum levels real quick like. So between King Alex and his adventures with juice and my anxiety, I did not sleep well.
Alex was fairly quiet in the car this morning, which is rare. Quiet aside from asking me "Why?" 10 bazillion times, but subdued nonetheless. So I asked him if he was ok and he assured me that aside from being cold, he was good to go. And then he let out a monstrous yawn followed with, "I tired Mama." I told him I was tired too, and after a short pause, he declared we should go home to rest. Amen brotha...right there with ya.
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