My mental consensus is that if your morning starts at 4:55 a.m., complaining is fair game.
Also, what else do you sign up for here? Yup, so on with complaining.
To Naomi's credit, her wide eyed awakening before the 5 a.m. hour was because she NEEDED to tell me about her dream where she was "holding a little boy" (whatever the H that means). I went ahead and placed her back into her bed, and as always, she came back out a solid 3 more times mingled with her waking her very angry sister at least once before the 7 a.m. hour.
So my eyes have been open since 4:40, which is when I woke up to visit el banyo because the in-utero babe will tolerate no more than 3 drops of liquid in the bladder at any given time since it is "crowding her space." Her words, not mine.
Unfortunately, and stupidly, my new punishment for Naomi for getting out of bed and waking me up that early is "no movies"-- or the incentive to stay in bed is a "special movie watch," look at it how you will. The movie watch has always been my one go-to sanity trick when she does get up that early, so it is really just a punishment for me. Again, stupid.
Bernadette graced us with her screamy, fevery (surprise!) presence at her normal-human hour of 7 and of course needed to be held held held due to the said surprise 102 fever she awoke with.
So then we kept the greatness going with a nearly all-family trip-- all family would have meant Mike's help, which would not have jibed with the anti-awesomeness that has been this day--to my 10 minute check-the-heartbeat-see-you-in-2-weeks prenatal visit. We had gotten the fever down by this point and therefore I decided- naturally- to nurse my Monday wounds with the balm of a trip to Target, a pumpkin spice latte (don't tell Mike), and a new super-duper-clearanced pair of maternity jean shorts-- because one can never own too many pairs of maternity jorts.
On the way home from Target my standard Sunday migraine decided to make a return guest appearance, because this Monday is just that special.
Aaaaaand my bread machine decided to break mid-dough making for our pizza dinner. This was the hour when I finally gave in on the "no movie" rule because at least at this point I could say it was "just for Bernadette because she is sick" (LIAR) and let Beezie pick out her own favorite movie, which just so happens to be Naomi's favorite too.
Although it stopped mid-cycle, the bread machine had apparently kneaded the dough enough so that it could rise just fine and not leave us all a bunch of starving, feverish, headachey messes, just feverish and headachey
And now I am off to top off the day with some extra-strength tylenol and straight nutella eating since the vino I long to be drinking would certainly exacerbate the throbbing.