To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Ah . . . I can't believe I used to sleep 8 or more hours most nights. I haven't been a good sleeper since my senior year in college, and I've had some bad patches of insomnia, but I've always been a huge devotee of sleep--never one of those people proud of how little sleep they need. Now that AC seems to be really doing it (several nights in a row, with even her little sleep disturbances getting less and less), I can't believe how freaking long it took. Some things one is better off not knowing when one signs on.

In other news, AC and I have both been sick for over a week with some kind of nasty cold, which must be what caused her fever the weekend before last. I've blown my nose more in the last 12 hours than in the last 12 years put together. At least I'm better off than poor little AC, who doesn't know how to blow her nose at all (but thinks it's hilarious to try mimicking Mommy).

The funniest part, though, has been that Sam, who ordinarily catches everything that comes down the pike, has escaped. It's a combination of factors I suppose--he didn't go on the plane with us over break, and the next week, he was on campus for several long days conducting a bunch of interviews, so he didn't have a lot of Munchkin duty when she was sickest and most contagious.

But you should see him: he goes beaming around the house with the smug, incredulous, theatrically innocent look of a would-be felon whose charges have been dropped on a technicality.