Yesterday was exhausting. Between work, traffic and getting Andy home, I was exhausted and had a big headache. My husband was late coming home - again - and he was as tired as I was after helping his mother move into her new place. He finally got home about 8, just in time for me to scarf down some dinner (I was oddly very hungry) and then get Andy ready for bed. Andy was so happy to see his father though. Just precious to see him cackle and play. And just as fun to see his father so happy about the situtation. They must have played pretty hard together because when I finally put Andy in bed around 8:30, he just about closed his eyes as I laid him in bed and went straight to sleep. That doesn't happen every day. And then he slept. All night. Through to 7:45! That's late.
Who knew a year ago that my life would now be all about how much my kid slept (and conversely, how much I slept). Sigh. Part of that makes me sad I'm not more interesting. Part of me thinks it's all pretty amazing.
Desperate for a good night's sleep since 2005.
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