Well. Olivia woke up at 2:45 a.m. this morning. She did not fall back asleep until 6:08 a.m. Which is very close to the time I have to get up. She spent more than three hours staring at the ceiling, unwilling or unable to give in to sleep. We took turns lying with her. (Because leaving her alone isn't an option unless we want to spend the rest of the night listening to her screeching as she runs back into our bedroom. Darn stupid bedroom monsters.)
Before she finally gave in and fell asleep, she became a weeping pile of goo at least twice, a sure sign that she was, indeed, exhausted. Letting her stay up was not an option if I wanted to survive to naptime. Letting her sleep all morning was not an option if I wanted to have any time at all to myself this afternoon (to sleep). Waking her too early would mean I'd have a monstrous and mean child to torment the other monstrous and mean children in my care. (If one is misbehaving, it's like a fast-spreading disease that infects the others. Summer cannot come fast enough.)
I opted to wake her at 8:30, and she behaved herself for about an hour after that. The rest of the morning was a challenge. To say the least. But now she is asleep. And there was much rejoicing.
One of the monstrous wee ones (other than Olivia) was particularly challenging today. At the end of one of her many time outs, after making promises that she would behave, she took off and less than a minute later the baby started screaming. She had been standing on him! What on God's green earth makes this kid do these things?
It's a darn good thing it's Friday. I need a break. And a nap.
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