Monday, Part one.

Oh yes, you heard me right,... part one. Monday will be broken into parts, because this first part is worth recording, but was unplanned and not really a piece of our typical week.

So last night we ended up sleeping in the recliner. And by we, I mean Elias and I, and by sleeping I mean, wrestling and crying and whimpering for a seemingly unending amount of time. We had managed to stay healthy just long enough for me to forget how tortorous it is when we are not.

You see, E inherited from me, (and my poor, poor, mother can attest to this), a complete and intense impatience and intolerance for head congestion and/or coughing of any degree or severity. Upon the onset of a cold, sleep becomes something more of a kick-boxing match with stuffed animals or the bars on the crib, or say, his mother. We usually end up, as we did last night, in the recliner, where elevation somewhat helps, and that is where we linger well into the morning, mouths open, drool dripping down, a mess of limbs and blankets having tried so desperately and for so long to get comfortable that we have just given up and fallen asleep in possibly one of the most awkward, painful sleeping positions known to man. It's a real treat. And yet, even as I type that, hoping you'll read it in my seriously tired, sarcastic tone, you should know, that I do kind of love it, these moments where I'm the only one in the whole world that he wants to hold him and comfort him. As he inches his way closer and closer to turning two, everyday he claims more of his impending and inevitable independence. So these moments where I am still needed and cuddled with are indeed precious, but had you asked me about their value this morning at 5:12 am, the only word I could have uttered would have been, "coffee", in a very pitiful, helpless kind of whisper. (In the picture, I am trying to show you what I've recently discovered. These sleepless nights cause not so much "bags" under the eyes, as these sort of concave dips under each eye. It's really very flattering, and in just the right light, they cast a bit of a crater-ish shadow down into their sleepy depths. I am struggling to find a proper concealing method. Any thoughts?)

So E finally awoke for just long enough to say, "pee-oh", which contrary to what you might think, means, "pillow". I took him to his bed, where he still sleeps now, and instead of allowing myself to sit and stew over the age-old question, "Why, O, why can he sleep soundly in his own bed when the sun has risen, and not when the darkness is upon us?? WHY??", I have brewed the joe, and realised that I have just enough half and half for one beautiful cup of coffee. It's like a little morning miracle.

Love you all. Prepare for part two. ox.