Sleep Deprived

Today, a picture of Lucky.  Who's a good boy?!

Can you believe our kids are 18 months old and 3 1/2 and still they refuse to sleep through the night?  It's been just brutal.  Since moving Quentin to a regular bed he rarely got out of it for the first month or two.  I don't think he really understood he could.  Well, let me tell you he has that skill officially mastered.  Mom, my eyeball hurts.  My neck hurts.  Mom, my shoulder isn't covered.  Dad, my leg hurts.  What's the light coming into my room?  What was that noise?  Is that thunder? Dad, my fingernail needs surgery.  (He's screaming from upstairs of course while we are trying to enjoy our short 90 minutes of peace we get a day).  And my personal favorite from last night at 3 am, "Dad, I don't fit in this bed anymore."  Well, maybe that last one was legitimate.  I get up there, barely awake, getting up for the 2nd time that night with Quentin and sure enough he's stuffed in there from head to toe.  Apparently he outgrew the bed without us noticing so for a short term solution we're taking down his crib bed and moving the guest bed, a queen, into his room.  His room is the smallest of the bedrooms so I think we are going to be cramming this thing in there but he will definitely have enough room to stretch out.  Guests, you get the crib.  That should suffice until we can purchase him a twin bed for the next several years. 

Gavin has been hauling around working on his balance.  He rarely crawls so he's definitely enjoying his walking.  His face is all beat up from taking headers, though.  It looks like he's a professional boxer.  He has a gash across his nose and a scrape just above his lip.  He took a bad face plant at school a few weeks ago and then this past weekend he and Quentin were outside and we have a place to store the cushions and some outdoor toys in a chest on the porch.  Quinny's arms aren't long enough to open the lid all the way so he has to prop it open, grab what he needs and then he drops the lid.  Well, his brother was underneath the lid so when the lid came crashing down it not only slammed on Gavin's little hands (it's plastic) but it scraped his nose/face on the way down reopening the same wounds.  We look like we're beating him!  (*Disclaimer - we're not).

And that little dude keeps waking up at 2-3 am, which is odd for him.  We usually bring him down to our room because he won't go back to sleep and sometimes he's just screwing around.  He'll come down at 3 am, sit up in our bed and be just giggling like this is hilarious and we're all supposed to be enjoying the moment.  No, no, no!  It's torture, little dude!  It usually results in Gavin headbutting (Bonk!, Bonk!, Bonk!) Carrie and me getting kicked in the face repeatedly for the rest of the night, which makes for an awful tomorrow.  It's clear these kids are never going to sleep and we need to just survive getting 3-4 hour stints and wake up calls at 5 am.

This weekend is my annual boy's trip to Opening day for the Brewers.  This will mark our 12th consecutive year.  It nearly always falls on Easter, which is a bummer so this year we decided to fly the whole family out, albeit after the fact so Carrie and the boys are flying out a day later than I.  In other words say a few prayers for her as she embarks on a trip, with a layover, with two rambunctious boys, solo, on a holiday weekend with a stroller, luggage and car seats.  Oh, the thrills of parenting!