June 2nd, 2015
We’re playing a losing game of family bingo. The object of the game is that everyone sleeps through the night without crying, soaking the bed, or causing themselves trauma or injury. Our kids really suck at this game. I’m waiting at the finish line to hug them but I’m so sleep deprived I just might pass out before they get there.

Jamie offered to sleep with Owen to expedite weaning and to give my breasts a timeout from torture. So I bunked in with Nora and looked forward to sleeping. What a great plan, what could go wrong?!

First off, my daughter is the closest thing to an angel that you will ever encounter. Second, she wreaks. She looks ethereal and has the most tender heart that she actually has stopped other children from hurting bugs. She also has her father’s bowels, dagger toenails, and my snore.

Her snuggles though…they are better than the best sedatives. Her body melds to me and softens my mood to liquid gold.

Jamie related to me that Owen sleeps perpendicular in the bed, stabs him with his toes, and talks in his sleep (that’s my boy!). I consoled him with my experiences sleeping next to Owen and reminded him that Nora was the same at this age as we consumed a seemingly endless amount of coffee that morning and I shared with him my conversation with Nora that I had just had while we laid in bed together.

Nora vined her limbs around me as she awoke and we talked about her dreams. I asked her what she remembered and it went something like this:

“There were some bears that lived like people but in the woods and a mean blonde girl showed up and broke everything and they said, “GET. OUT!””

Best version of that story ever. I think my work here on snarking up my kids is well on its way.

Then she asked if we could do the “farm song”, Old McDonald Had a Farm, and I said “ok”. She was amused then annoyed that I kept mismatching the sound of the animal with it’s owner. My cows meowed and my cats neighed. Her frustration boiled over when Owen enthusiastically charged into the room trumpeting, “A-E-I-O-UUUU-!”
“No, Owen, NOOO! Babies go “waaah”!” When she’s right, she’s right.

July 3rd, 2015
Update, the kids are officially sharing a room. Third night in a row of Owen sleeping through the night (for five hours at a time) AND without my boob in his mouth. Here’s to sibling love, puppy pile snuggles with papa who chose to sleep in with them, and three cheers to me getting some rest. Happy Independence Day indeed!

Barbara Ann Kelso