Alice apparently no longer believes in sleep. At least, not when it’s dark out. Part of this was not her fault, however. I’ll relate (briefly) the day’s events that led up to her first awakening.
Yesterday, I was changing all of the beds and I got interrupted, leaving our bedroom door open. I MUST NOT LEAVE THE DOOR OPEN, because this causes The Horrible Mixing Of The Cats, and the consequences are dire. Yesterday was no exception.
While I was gone, dropping off our tax forms at the CPA’s office, The Cats Mixed. There was a fracas in, apparently, Alice’s crib. When there is a fracas, Abbey and/or Tango almost always piss everywhere. This fracas was, again, no exception.
Ordinarily I (aka SuperNose) would have noticed this immediately upon reentering the room when I found the door open and did a quick once-around to make sure the appropriate cats were on appropriate sides of the door. Alas, it’s allergy season, which means spring break for my olfactory sense. So I smelled nothing.
Alice, however, got a faceful of it at 9:15pm, and the blissful silence of sleeping children was shattered by the sound of a screeching infant. I got her all cleaned up, got her crib all cleaned up, washed off the mattress, flipped it, changed the mattress pad and sheets, and nursed her back to sleep.
Then at 10:30, she was awake again. Rocked her to sleep this time and put her back in the crib.
Then at 3:30am, again. Jerry tried to get her to go to sleep on his chest, but since that was only about a foot away from the snack machine (that would be ME) she was ENRAGED.
At 4:30am she decided she was done sleeping for the night and started to happily jabber. Cute? Yes. Annoying as hell? Yes. I flipped her over on her tummy and rubbed her back until she passed out again.
Ah, blessed sleep. Right? Wrong. I was tortured with a dream that I had crashed a party with snobby society girls and that I couldn’t just leave because I couldn’t find my purse.
And then at 6:45 or so a chipper pants-around-the-ankles Helen shuffled into our room asking if I could clean her up. Logic, sensing an opportunity, beelined for Helen’s discarded diaper and consumed the contents.
Never a dull moment, huh?
I’ll get sleep again in… what…? 2022? Right?