Tuesday, May 31, 2011


Saturday mornings are hard around here right now. Almost since Gabi was first born, Papi and I have had an agreement: He sleeps in Saturday mornings, and I sleep in Sunday mornings. That worked out fine for quite awhile, but over the past few months its working out less well for me. There's something about a Saturday morning that makes it different from the weekdays, even when it shouldn't be. The kids just seem to do their best to aggravate me, purposefully.

I don't know if its that the kids know Papi is in bed and it makes them act up more since he won't be involved in the discipline, or if its towards the end of a busy week and they're just more wound up in general, or if I'm annoyed that he's in the bedroom sleeping so soundly while I'm dealing with them. Whatever it is, its three hours of yuck every week.

Then Sunday rolls around and its my day to lay in bed, blissfully alone. You think that works out for me? Yeah, not so much. Gabi knows that if she sneaks into the room through the bathroom (it has two doors) that Papi won't be able to tell she's inside - laying in bed next to me whispering insistently "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy get up. Get up Mommy" and repeat x 50. Then I convince her to leave, which she does for just enough time for me to fall back asleep before she's back again. If I call Papi into the room it turns into a crying fit and then I might as well just get up already.

This Sunday was the same as usual, except instead of just getting up to hang out around the house, I got up and went for a run. Gabi was hysterical on my way out the door, but by the time I got home 50 minutes later all was well. I felt great, refreshed by the exercise and alone time, and the kids were perfectly happy playing with dad. This might have to be my new "sleeping in" on Sundays. It doesn't mean I sure won't miss the bed though!


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