Hal and I just got home from a weekend getaway in Joshua Tree. Awesome. Lots of fun. Met Gram Parsons' ghost. Kicked ass at Bocce Ball, even though I lost. Several times. Danced a lot. Passed out in the dust gazing at stars. But only for a couple of minutes. Got back up and kept dancing.
Meanwhile, while the cat's away...
The mouse will sleep. And sleep. Nap. Sleep though the night. Nap plus extra credit.
For the past few months Archer has gotten up every night, crying to get into bed between Hal and me. The thing about a screaming child at 3am is that there is no energy to fight him or even argue. In fact, most of the time I never even remember getting Archer out of his crib. I just wake up with a foot in my nostril.
"Did you get Archer last night?"
"No. Did you?"
"I don't think so..."
I called my mom Saturday morning worried Archer would be keeping my parents up all night, like he has us lately.
"How's Archer sleeping?"
"Great! He just took a four hour nap and last night he slept through the night."
"What?" He didn't wake up once? You didn't sleep with a foot in your nostril?"
"Bec! No! He's an angel! He's perfect! He woke up this morning at 9:30."
Of course, today, now that we have come back to earth, hungover and dazed, Archer is back home with us and back to hijacking our dreams and protesting naptime.
Very funny, Archer. Very funny.
Back to life. Back to reality. Back to feet in my face at 3am....
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