It's 3:13 a.m. After two hours of crying and hollering and yelling and squirming and carrying on, I finally gave up and brought Miss Violet downstairs. She is in her high-chair eating bread, applesauce and tiny pieces of ham. And she is awake. Wide, wide awake. And so am I.... I predict this Monday is going to be worse than most...
So that brings me to the million-dollar-question of the night -- who fed my baby pop at the Super Bowl party tonight? I know someone did. It's the only thing to explain this wide-awake, sleep-is-for-losers attitude she is currently sporting. Aunt Jean, you were there, who did it? Was it Jenny? Grandpa Kevin? I would normally blame one of her uncles, but the two most likely candidates were not there. Bandy was back in Guthrie Center crying over the 49ers loss and Troy is in Maui laughing about the 49ers loss.
And I am here. In Iowa. At 3:17 a.m. writing on my blog. Wishing my baby would show any signs of being sleepy. And darn it, she's so damn cute right now. Smiling, giggling, sticking a piece of bread in her ear and smiling.
The party tonight was a lot of fun. We were at my sister's house. Good food, good company and I heard there was a football game on, though I didn't see any of it. I was too busy chasing kids, eating and gabbing. I did catch some of Beyonce's halftime show. And a few commercials. The only ones I remember are a car commercial with a bunch of things hitting the windshield, and I think a Steve Wonder voodoo recliner commercial.
3:25 and she's through her food and playing with her sleeve. The weird thing is that she has fallen asleep several times since this all started around 1 a.m. But something keeps waking her up. She's mad now and ready to get out, so I'll hope you all had a better night's sleep than me and I'll catch you tomorrow night. I mean tonight... Whatever. I'm tired.
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