Clearly these are people without children.
You know, of all the love songs ever written, I think Pat Benetar said it best when she crooned, “Love is a Battlefield.”
I have a vague recollection of people waking up around me this morning because unlike the rest of my family, my REM sleep didn’t begin until approximately 3:15 a.m. Eliza interrupted my sleep last night with a 1:30 visit to inform me that she couldn’t sleep. Guess what? Now neither can I! That turned out to be a good thing, because 20 minutes later Larissa loudly advised me that her pacifier had apparently traveled 1″ out of her grasp and it was up to me to lead the recovery effort. 45 minutes after that, Kellan materialized out of the darkness and wordlessly shoved himself into bed next to me. Lying next to him is like trying to sleep with a pile of constantly shifting lumber - all sharp angles and hard edges. The remainder of the night I stared at the ceiling listening to the dulcet tones of my husband’s Darth Vader-like CPAP machine, which is only slightly more soothing than the actual snoring it is supposed to prevent.
This morning Rob attempted to wake me from my coma with a hug and kiss and whisper of “Happy Valentine’s Day”. That whole wake the sleeping beauty routine might work in the world of Disney, but in real life, when the “beauty” in question is sprawled face down on the bed like a beached starfish, it’s going to take a whole lot more than a kiss to get her in the mood. Or out of bed for that matter.
I have temporarily lost my loving feeling, but I’m sure it will return — at approximately the same time that the kids come home with their sacks of V-day loot.
Seriously - I’m still getting into the groove. I’ll have a more uplifting Vday report right after I rendezvous with my Keurig coffee maker. Hello lover!
