I just got back from St. George and am excited to blog about that adventure, but I'm still trying to locate my floor under the trip-debris. We were gone for three days. That's it, and still, my life has been thrown into total chaos. In the meantime, I had to post a paragraph from a blog that my sister sent me about Toddler sleep issues that I find myself relating to in a serious way.
"As usual, the time change last week completely screwed with the pace of our daily schedule, and by mid-week when I thought we were nearing the end of the transition Leta fell asleep in the car on the way to the grocery store. At 5:30 PM. For those of you who have children I probably don’t need to go into too much detail about what that did to her bedtime, and what that delayed bedtime then did to the mood she was in for the next… oh wait, she’s still upset about it. For those of you who have never had to worry about the sleep schedule of an incorrigible, three-foot-tall shin-kicker, let’s just put it this way: this time change? It’s like running at full-speed on a treadmill while balancing an egg on the end of spoon that you’ve got clutched between your teeth. And if you drop that egg? Everyone dies."
Is it true for you too? Right this moment my extremely volatile 2-year-old is sobbing, hanging on my leg, and letting the flow of boogers run freely down her face. She's been doing this for about two weeks. Solid.