I Don't Understand.

Adam slept from 11:34 to 5:39 and was up at least three times in between.  He's kept a similar schedule for the last month.  I don't understand why he doesn't need any sleep, and I feel like crying.  I am on the interview committee at school for five hour-long interviews today and have my National Board test day tomorrow.  I just want to cry.  Thanks.  Had to tell someone.

Make That a Love Square

On the way to the park tonight after a drawn-out goodbye to the neighbors' grandchildren (boys ages 5 and 6), Abby mused:

"Mama?  I guess two boys want to marry me.  And I guess Quince wants to marry me, like, he really means it, so I'll probably marry him.  Michael will have to marry someone else."

Stay tuned for the update on Monday after she breaks the news at daycare.

Love Triangle

So we were driving back from the farm tonight, one boy with a pink eye; one girl with a Kool-Aid mustache; and I.  Thank you, Jean, for watching the boy with the pink eye all day long.

Abby said, "Mama?  Michael - little Michael Reeves, you know, at daycare?  He-he-he and I are going to get married, you know."

[Silence; I couldn't think of what to say.]

"We - we - we decided that we'll get married.  He wants to marry me.  Yeah."

[Silence; I still couldn't think of what to say.]

"What about Jovi at daycare?  Does he want to marry her?"

"He - he - he was going to marry her first, but then she said naughty things to him, so - so now he's going to marry me."

"Oh.  I guess that makes sense."

The Cape

I'm becoming known around the community as the mother of the boy who wears a Superman cape.  Softball game?  Cape.  Band concert?  Cape.  Burger King?  Cape and crown.

Last night Adam was up with nightmares.  I was able to gather what he was scared about from his emerging descriptions:  Someone was at his window, looking in, trying to...you guessed it!  Steal his cape.

Abby's Bedtime Prayer...Every Night

"Dear Lord, help me not to think about Scooby Doo or dream about Scooby Doo or think about army or dream about army or think about other scary things or dream about other scary things.  And help me not to think about witches or dream about witches and to get a good rest and a good sleep. Amen."

The other night I told her that she should be open to praying new prayers, about things that have just happened during the day.

"I can't do that, Mama," she said.  "I have to say that one so I'm not scared when I sleep."