Third weekday: not dead yet.

We fell asleep again. Which makes sense considering "we" were awake at 4. And "we" wouldn't go back to sleep. So "we" decided to get dressed. Then when "we" were too exhausted to continue getting ready and besides which there was still an hour until daycare was even open, "we" decided to lie down. THEN, of course, "we" fell asleep. And ONE of us stayed asleep when the other suddenly sat up and realized it was 6:15.

Thank goodness I'd packed up (almost) everything the night before.

I'm so tired my legs don't feel like they're going to work. I was up late last night doing laundry so that Howie had diaper covers for daycare. Did I remember them this morning, though? No. Nor did I remember to bring a new change of clothes for Mr. Poopy Pants, so hopefully his butt contained itself today or he's coming home in Silly Pants, my new nickname for the donated clothes that daycare has for just such an emergency.

That extra hour and a half of sleep Howie normally gets in the morning, from 6 to 7:30 (or 5:30 to 7) is apparently critical, because he's just been all off on his sleeping schedule. Normally a champion napper, he can't stay asleep at daycare and can't fall asleep on time or on his own and I need to wait until he's completely asleep before putting him down and so he's been going to bed later, waking up earlier and not napping. That sound you hear is my head exploding.

On the bright side, we survived, and I know we could long term if we had to. But--on the even brighter side--thank goodness we don't have to. Andrew gets home at midnight, and we can partner up again.

I miss my partner.