Woke up 498 times last night because my husband kept fluffing the blankets! Makes. me. crazy!!! I was sleeping so nice and warm and cozy, and Mr. Man would roll over every 20 minutes and fluff up the covers, thus sending a blast of freezing cold air into my warm little pocket I had carved out for myself. AAGGHHH!!! Then I'd have to start all over, making sure there were no gaps that could let out the heat. Twenty minutes later...MOTHER FLUFFER! I'm sure he thought I was talking in my sleep at first. 1:00 am..."Stop fluffing my pocket." 2:15 am ... "You're letting in all of the cold air." 2:50 am..."DUDE!" (we actually say these things in Cali.) 3:30 am ... "I am about to rain down a wrath upon your head, the likes of which you've never known." Now let's just add this to the fact that Bubba, at almost 3 years old, has decided that the last 3 nights, instead of sleeping, he's going to scream bloody murder. I don't even think he's fully awake when he's screaming. Have I mentioned that he screams as loud as a full grown person? Because I'm feeling the need to drive that point home again. And again. He is very loud. Like blow-your-hair-back loud. Like be-in-a-sound-sleep-and-sit-bolt-upright-in-bed-not-knowing-where-the-hell-you-are-and-why-you're-being-yelled-at loud. Like Full-Metal-Jacket-I-love-the-smell-of-napalm-in-the-morning loud. And he's down the hall behind a closed door! We have NEVER turned the volume up on the video monitor. Oh yes, we have video. MUST have video. That little sucker is cagey. Gotta keep an eye on him 24/7.
So today I am pooped and it is a yoga pants kinda day. What I REALLY want is a yoga pants, eat myself sick in chocolate chip cookies, kinda day. Weight Watchers won't let me. Apparently, they are watching.......and weighing. #meanies
Food from the Christmas Show!
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