Saturday, September 15, 2007
I admit it. I stayed up WAY too late last night. I was on a roll on my audio book, happily finishing up the draft with one word to spare. I figured that it wouldn't hurt to stay up past midnight since I could sleep in today. After all, it's Saturday right? Less than six hours later my three-year-old raced into my room. Apparently he doesn't know that it's Saturday. I tried to be annoyed at being woken up. Really, I did. But how could I be annoyed when my darling little boy came in to snuggle and hide from his fictional snowman monster? (Yes, imaginations run wild from an early age in my family.) We had to roar to scare it away in whispers -- after all, we didn't want his older sisters to come in and roar back -- and hiding under the covers lasted for nearly twenty minutes. Adding those twenty minutes to the time I was really sleeping, I finally managed to get my six hours in bed. Lessons learned. I need to go to bed on time, and three-year-olds don't care about weekends!