For the last couple of weeks, Baby has gone to bed before 9:00. Let me tell you, there is major rejoicing around here. The extra couple of hours in the evening has allowed me to reclaim some physical space and some brain space. When she didn't sleep until 10:30, things were not so happy. How do you keep small objects out of baby's mouth when you don't have time to pick them up off the floor? How do you set the table when you don't have time to do the dishes? How do you send off magazine queries when you can't type your own name?
Easy. You just convince your baby that everyone would be much better off if she went to sleep at the same time as the other children. She complies, and life gets much happier.
Mark and I clean up the clutter and do the dishes. Then there's still time to write a page or two in my novel, email a couple of queries, and still more time to waste on Facebook. Not that I've mastered the art of getting up before the kiddos like I thought I would when the late night baby parties ended. But I'm starting to feel like a person again. So now I just have to convince the dishes that everyone would be much happier if they would wash themselves.