Well it certainly has started out as a very merry Christmas here at our house. As per usual, Annalie woke me up at 2:30am demanding a couple bottles of milk and a diaper change. I obliged her, as I usually do. This was after Story had woken up at 11pm and decided that the night was now over…until 12:30am. The girls are not quite old enough to understand that if they are awake all night than Santa cannot come visit the house. They don’t seem to give a shit because all they want is a bottle or a boob…not much different than you average man when it comes right down to it.
Put Annalie back to bed and she pukes back some of that wholesome Nestle goodness. Nice. Just about as bad as shitting the bed is puking in the bed. Take her downstairs to let her mull over her life choices and the distinct odour of baby shit follows us. Great, a Christmas poonami. At 3:30am. Clean her up.
Her howls of indignation have awoken her sister and her mother who comes down stairs to ask what I am doing, why is the baby screaming. My usual answer, I was twisting her legs, maybe it was too hard this time? Sarcasm is not good at 3:45am. I am then left with two babies and the instructions to wake her if I need I a switch off at some point. Shit, why do I need more than two hours of sleep on this wonderful and joyous night? Hey doc, is it possible that the headache I have pretty well every day is related to the fact that I have not slept since April? Just a funny feeling in my temple, like someone sticking an ice pick in my head. Thank you Ibuprofen…want to sponsor me?
Now it is 4:30am…Santa is probably flying in circles, in a holding pattern, over our house waiting for the twins to go to sleep.
Which makes me think about the coming week…we are taking our chaos of a life on the road. We are flying with the twins to San Diego for just under a week. I expect I will be blogging and twittering the experience. Twitter? Did you know you can follow me on Twitter? We Tweet from the name “PapaStacey”. Go ahead, follow me. It doesn’t seem the least bit creepy that you do so.