Do you have any idea how disappointing it is to not wake up until 7am? How utterly heartbroken and distraught I am when my boys don't wake me up at various hours of the night?
When I wake up at 7am for 3 straight days in a row, having slept all night, I don't know who I am. I'm disoriented. Confused. Am I in an alternate universe? Is it possible to live in this universe forever? Can it be real?
And then I come to my senses, as Paul is pawing me at 7am ("up, Mah-ee, up"). It's not an alternate universe and it won't last forever. My boys are like Oklahoma weather; tease me with a day or so of one weather pattern regardless of what the calendar month is and then just as I'm becoming acclimated, boom, it hits me with something else.
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