What’s another word for exhausted, one that requires coffee all day to stay awake, that’s the word I am. Fireworks and my sweet baby O do not mix. A few minutes after midnight Owen was ready to start the year. He fell asleep again quickly but the night was a constant up and down hill for me. He would not go back to his bed, which we technically still call “mommy’s bed” even though it’s completely changed to his room. He doesn’t understand that there are now dinosaurs all in “mommy’s room”. He doesn’t even pay attention to them. That brings a different lump to my throat and I’m not going to even think about that right now. I tried numerous ways and times to get Owen to go back to bed but he wasn’t having it. I haven’t gotten a bedrail for my new bed so I can’t have him sleep in my bed. Plus, I really want him to stay in his bed. Last night’s solution was to sleep on the couch. A few months ago it seemed like we fit better on it. The L-shaped couch I thought would be big enough but between him growing what seems like a foot in the last month and the fact that he needs to be right next to me does not work well. I think maybe I’ve slept six hours in the last two days. I tried to take a nap on the couch today, more like no matter what I tried my eyes were closing but Owen does not approve of this. As soon as I would get anywhere close to falling asleep I would hear the blood-curdling scream before I felt his nose on my nose but I was clearly awake at that point. More coffee. I’m really not sure how many pots of coffee are too many pots of coffee but I don’t think it was enough. He was ready for breakfast at five o’clock and ate small meals all day long. He seriously looks like he grew a foot overnight. He’s been happy as long as I didn’t do anything besides exactly what he wanted me to do, otherwise, he screamed at me until his face turned red and he would start coughing. I sat for most of the day, too sleepy to really do much else. Throughout the day he would crawl in my lap, put his hand on my cheek, and say, “big hug”. I know he needed sensory input and both our emotions were on the surface. I smiled when he sang in many different languages all while the English versions would be playing on his tablet. He asked me to cut his toenails with the “slippers”, thinking how far he’s come on that alone. He no longer calls his toes “birthday candle” and he now asks for help with his feet. As I prayed out loud to God to give us both sleep for the night, I also thanked him for giving Owen his voice. Never give up, follow your dreams, and be inspired to change your world. Smiles to all and donut daze!
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