I'm sleeping like a baby. Really.

Ben and I went to a derby day party this weekend.  And it just so happens that in two, separate, completely random drawings, we got Mind That Bird as our pick for the winner.  We thought, hey this is a good sign ... then we saw the 50:1 odds on Mind That Bird and we thought, well crap, there goes that.  And then the race happened.  And I watched this horse come out of nowhere and blow everyone away, and it wasn't until after the race ended that I even realized that was our horse. Our winnings amounted to $50 cash and a bottle of Kahlua.. nothing to write home about, but better than a kick in the head, that's for sure. 

Now, I'm not much of a horse racing aficionado, in fact that may have been the first actual race I've watched in my lifetime, but I feel like there has to be a lesson in there somewhere.  Like, don't give up even when the odds seem stacked against you.  Or, it pays to root for the underdog.  Or, there's no problem that fifty bucks and a bottle of liquor can't solve.  Okay, that's probably not it.

As for the rest of our lives, I'm mostly at the point where I'd give just about anything for a few consecutive nights of uninterrupted sleep.  I think its just been too many years, it just seems harder to deal with these days. Could be the three pregnancies in less than five years (technically four, I suppose, but that's a post for another day), it feels like I've not had true dominion of myself for way too long -- and lack of sleep only exacerbates that feeling.  

Last night at about 2 a.m. I was awoken by calls of, "hep me, mommm.. Hep me, mom.. HEP ME MOM!", which was of course, Noah beseeching me to come to his aid.  Which I did, and when I entered his bedroom I encountered a large fleece blanket sitting straight up in bed. Or rather, Noah covered entirely by a large fleece blanket, sitting straight up in bed.  Truthfully, his calls were remarkably calm considering he was essentially trapped inside a soft, fleecy cage. I quickly rescued him, he informed me he wanted to go for a walk, I was luckily able to remind him it was still bedtime, and he rolled over and promptly went back to sleep.  I, of course, am not so lucky when it comes to returning to slumberland, so I tossed and turned for an hour or so until Sophie woke up and begged to eat.  I tried to convince her to go downstairs and fix herself a sandwich, but she had none of it.

Also, I appear to be on the verge of throwing my back out, which makes for more rough sleeping, and generally being slower at just about anything I do.  And since I am nursing, there's nothing I can really take to help with that, so I just lie around and complain a lot.  In fact, I'm close to perfecting that.  It's an art, really.