Bedtime

I am going to bed now. It has been a long day.

It began at 4:30 a.m. when my 3-year-old going on 10 scared me to death by seemingly appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the night next to my bed.

Still mostly asleep, I helped him climb in. He settled in next to me, and I covered him, never really opening my eyes.

The walk down stairs must have woken him up, though. Because he never went back to sleep.

That's right.

Instead, he rustled the blankets with his legs, rousing Dane and I with the whooshing noise. He asked me a few times if we could get up yet.

Finally, at 5:50 a.m., I said we could.

I did this because I knew The Wiggles would be on at 6 a.m.

Out on the couch, I closed my eyes.

Five seconds later, Rye noticed. He disapproved and said: "Mommy, wake up! It's morning behind you. Look."

And, yes, it was light outside. The windows behind me proved it.

But it was still very early.

So goodnight.