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So my lovely daughter spent her second day back from "winter break" home sick. She complained of a tummy ache, so she got to stay home. Naturally, she was stir crazy last night after being kept in all day. "Daddy, can we go out and play?" "No, you're home from school because you said you were sick. No outside play. Sorry."
At bedtime, she claimed she wanted to go to bed early because she wanted to make sure she was well for school today. An hour later...
Moooooooomy...
Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy...
I can't sleep!
So, upstairs to see what's up. She needs her hair put back in a ponytail. She needs a light on, because she's scared. All arrangements made, we go back downstairs.
Half an hour later, we look up from USC tanking the end of the Rose Bowl to find her standing at the bottom of the stairs. Still can't sleep. Aaaaaaargh.
We explain to her that we can't really do anything to make her go to sleep. She can sit there and look at books (plenty of light in the room now) or count sheep, or something else. But she needs to figure it out on her own.
So she finally gets to sleep. We, on the other hand, are now hyper-alert to any changes in sound anywhere in the house. I think I finally slept around 12:30.
6:05 this morning, I feel a shake and thump on the bed. I figure "Oh cripes," (that was not precisely the wording I used) "she's awake, and she just jumped in bed with us." I roll over to find no daughter, but lovely wife wide awake. Earthquake...
So despite a full pot of tea at breakfast, a Coke at lunch and a couple of chocolate-coated espresso beans (fuel of champions!), I feel like I've been dragged through the swamp and left for the 'gators.
Sleep is useful, really...
At bedtime, she claimed she wanted to go to bed early because she wanted to make sure she was well for school today. An hour later...
Moooooooomy...
Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy...
I can't sleep!
So, upstairs to see what's up. She needs her hair put back in a ponytail. She needs a light on, because she's scared. All arrangements made, we go back downstairs.
Half an hour later, we look up from USC tanking the end of the Rose Bowl to find her standing at the bottom of the stairs. Still can't sleep. Aaaaaaargh.
We explain to her that we can't really do anything to make her go to sleep. She can sit there and look at books (plenty of light in the room now) or count sheep, or something else. But she needs to figure it out on her own.
So she finally gets to sleep. We, on the other hand, are now hyper-alert to any changes in sound anywhere in the house. I think I finally slept around 12:30.
6:05 this morning, I feel a shake and thump on the bed. I figure "Oh cripes," (that was not precisely the wording I used) "she's awake, and she just jumped in bed with us." I roll over to find no daughter, but lovely wife wide awake. Earthquake...
So despite a full pot of tea at breakfast, a Coke at lunch and a couple of chocolate-coated espresso beans (fuel of champions!), I feel like I've been dragged through the swamp and left for the 'gators.
Sleep is useful, really...
