Welcome to my blog. I document my adventures in travel, style, and food. Hope you have a nice stay!


Around here, sleep is a very precious commodity.

We don't sleep so much as nap.

I have always been a bit of an total insomniac. I almost never sleep straight through the night. I feel great on the rare occasions that I do and I marvel at how awesome it must feel to be a person that is capable of doing it on a regular basis.

Grand Master H is still duking it out with a cold. He started asking (wailing like a wounded animal and begging) to go to bed at 3:20 pm yesterday.

I finally gave up when he insulted me by telling me, "You know what? I don't like the color
of your hair!"

I know, I am petty. The color of my hair comes straight out of a bottle every 6 weeks, so it is silly to get pissed, but honestly, the kid was at the end of his tether.

So I put him to bed around 4:30. He went to sleep. Until 2:19 when he came and knocked ever so lightly, but so very annoyingly on our door.

I gently explained to him that he had to go back to bed.

Which he did until 2:31 when he was back, standing at my side of the bed.

And again at 3:13 and 3:28.

As you can imagine, at this point, I am in a homicidal rage. I just want him to go back to sleep. He claims that I am being mean by making him go back to bed. Yeah, so? I'm mean, big deal. Does he really think he is the first person to point THAT out?

Obviously, we are at an impasse. I tell him he will lose many many unspecified toys/cherished possessions if he comes back out of his room before 5 am.

He is pissed, but resigned to staying in his room rather than risk losing stuff.

His sister/co-conspirator wakes up at 4:20.

(Don't even get me started about how these two are working in concert to destroy us. The nights when H is actually able to sleep through the night, Baby C is up.)

Mr. Smith gets up with her and makes me want to marry him all over again, that is how filled with love I am for that man at that moment. He is a rock star.

H gets up at 4:45.

And then when I look at the sink, we have an ant swarm all over the kitchen sink. And I have to take out the garbage cans and make stupid amounts of noise and general rukus when poor Mr. Smith has gone back to bed to try to get more sleep.

I will be shopping around for boarding schools. Let me know if you have any recommendations.

Not gonna be Sippin' for the Cure

All In