Another weekend has come and gone, in the blink of an eye. On Saturday night, Steve and I were able to get out for the night and attend our friends Jack and Jill. We stayed out past our curfew and felt the effects of that on Sunday – 12:15 am is now the new 2:15 am.
Thanks to daylight savings, we kept saying: “Well, it’s 10:30 pm, but it’s really 9:30 pm.” I’m sure you all do that. You wake up and look at the clock, and it says 8:00 am but now it’s really 7:00 am (assuming you didn’t set your clock back the night before). You then proceed to play this game for the entire day until you go to bed at semi-appropriate time. “It’s 9:30 pm but yesterday it was 10:30 pm…”
When you don’t have kids, you get to enjoy the extra hour of sleep. When you have a 14-month-old, you somehow lose sleep, and have a cranky toddler on your hands. To top it off, Maxton’s speed of walking has greatly increased, as has the number of times he has fallen. Yesterday, the grand total was six (and I’m only counting the ones that left him crying), two of which involved a bleeding lip. By Sunday night, he had a swollen bottom lip, was absolutely exhausted and looked quite dishevelled.
He wasn’t in the mood to smile for pictures, and was ready for bed by 5:30 pm. (We started tucking his pants in his socks so he would stop tripping and falling.) Poor guy.
We’re off to a very cranky start this morning. He must know it’s Monday.