What are YOU doing at 2:30am?

I am on the verge of some exciting things, and can barely contain my excitement.




The first is that in a few short hours, my sweet husband will begin his journey home to us. For the past three weeks he has been sunning his buns on the French Riviera, weekending in Rome and Paris. All in the name of "work." In my good, mature, adult moments I am really glad that he gets to go and have these experiences. In my naughty, tired moments I want to tell him to take the Eiffel Tower and stick it where the sun don't shine.

I am already making lists of things I want him to do. You know, to kind of make-up for leaving me once again. Change all the diapers, be the referee on all Matthew/Emma squabbles, organize the closet under the stairs, wash and vacuum my car out, etc. But mostly I am excited to have him take over the 2:30am wake-up call.

We check Emma's blood sugar every night at 2:30 and the Diabetes Educator told Jonny it was his job since I was getting up with the new baby. I will love that woman forever for that. Sometimes when he gets up I feel kind of guilty, but then I tell myself that even if he gets up with her every night for the next 10 years he will still never get up as many times as I get up with the kids. And then I feel better, roll over, and go back to sleep. But when I get up with her because he is out of town, I often have a hard time falling back asleep. Like today, when I couldn't go back to sleep until 4am. And then Sophie woke up at 6am. I am tired. I am more than ready to hand the responsibility back to him.


The second exciting thing is that on Sunday I get to eat sugar for the first time in SEVEN WHOLE WEEKS! I have been doing a no white flour/no sugar diet in the hopes that it would resolve some of my weird health issues. I honestly can't tell if I feel all that much better, but I figure the worst it could do is make me more healthy generally. Can I just say that life is way less fun without sugar? And when I'm having a really stressful day and just want some therapy, running to the kitchen and stuffing carrots and celery into my mouth doesn't really have the same effect as cookies and such would.

My goal was to do it until my birthday, because I'll be danged if I'm not going to eat my own birthday cake. The thought of eating cake and ice cream is taking some of the sting out of the fact that I am turning 32. And I now drive a van and have 3 kids and feel kind of like an old fogie.

So within the next 48 hours I should be kissing my cute husband and gorging myself on delicious confections (that should turn him on, eh?)

All in all, it is shaping up to be a fabulous weekend.