Hoot, hoot

Staying up late is my grandest indulgence, an indulgence paid for by purple undereyes, lethargic mornings, and, occasionally, a shorter fuse. Sometimes I feel guilty about the short fuse. My children deserve a chipper, well-rested mother. But quiet, uninterrupted time is in short supply in my life, and I crave it more than I crave sleep. In fact, I think I'd be less chipper with more sleep and no time to myself (if I could ever really describe myself as "chipper" at all.)

Secretly, I like it best I'm the only one awake, when every other soul is asleep, and I can turn off the always chattering television, putter around on the computer or the sewing machine, and eat more ice cream (or cookies or potato chips) than I should.

I longingly remember a time before Paige, when Owen was 3 and Mitch was 1, and they napped at the same time. We'd go out in the morning to shop or play, come home for lunch, read a few books, and then they'd sleep for 2 hours. Back then, I went to bed at a more reasonable hour, but I had those 2 hours after lunch to indulge myself. I never get time like that during the day now. Mitch doesn't nap anymore, and when he's in school, Paige is awake and at my heels. Everlastingly.

So I have to wait until after they're all in bed, which usually means, at the earliest, 9:30, since our bedtime routine starts at 8:30 and can take longer than an hour to complete, depending on the children's level of cooperation. That means if I stay up later than midnight, I have 2 or 3 blissful hours to do whatever I want, more enriching to my psyche than extra sleep, I promise.

Sometimes, I'm oddly happy when I can't fall asleep. Legitimate insomnia absolves me of any responsibility for and guilt about night owling. The quiet between 2 and 4 am is a deep quiet, very restful to my spirit. Being awake in that quiet gives me the purest feeling of aloneness I can hope to attain now that I'm married and breeding.

Maybe it's irresponsible. Maybe sleep deprivation is the source of all my flaws: my scatterbrain, my impatience, my clumsiness. But sleep is a cheap substitute for mental rest, the kind I need to keep my core intact.

Plus, I'm here to tell you, ice cream after midnight tastes twice as good.

{image from Night Owl Paper Goods}

My funny valentines

I made these for the young 'uns. They'll appreciate them for a much shorter time than it took me to make them, but I'm used to their rejection. I undertake these projects anyway, imagining a time shortly after my death, when they're all together, packing up the house. At the bottom of a box, they'll unearth these lovingly embroidered hearts and sob with adoration and gratitude...so...

Happy Valentine's Day!

Family headlines: Weekend edition

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Tonight's top story: John (aka Mean Daddy) Suffers with Coxsackie

Nearly 2 months after Mean Mommy's bout with the same illness, John has contracted the debilitating virus that once caused him to ask his wife, "So how long do you plan on being sick?"

After 3 days of listening to his groans and whimpering, Mean Mommy has had to place duct tape over her mouth to keep herself from asking John the same question, only in a bitchier tone.

Paige Breaks Owen's Glasses

On Friday afternoon, Paige marched forward in her never ending quest to pull Owen's glasses off of his face. However, in an attempt to thwart the attack, Owen jerked his head sideways. Because Paige--stalwart, persistent Paige--refused to break her grip, the bridge of the glasses snapped in two.

After trying to super glue the bridge back in place, the Mean Family was told by their eye doctor that "the glasses are under warranty" (yay!) but that they should "NOT attempt to glue the glasses" because such attempts will "void the warranty" (boo!)

Right, because if you come into the shop with a pair of broken glasses that have been glued, how will the manufacturer know that it wasn't your trying to glue the bridge of an intact pair of glasses that caused them to break...maybe cause there are hoodlums out there who just slap glue on their glasses for no good reason, breaking them willy nilly and then trying to cheat eye wear manufacturers into replacing them? That's probably it.

Monday will be spent 1. Trying to persuade Owen that he can go to school without his glasses and 2. Trying to scrape all traces of super glue off of the glasses.

In other news:

Owen Wins Zingo Three Times in a Row; Three year old brother left in quivering heap of disappointment.

Mean Mommy Finds 32 NEW Excuses not to do Taxes

Paige Breaks Record of "Poops in one Day" (former record set at 3 months old)

Mitch Breaks Record for Number of Times One Child Can Watch The Incredibles.