exhaustion is like a box of wet wipes

So Annabelle only took one nap yesterday. Usually, she's a two napper. Yesterday, we got too busy, she got too involved, and plum-darned forgot to take her nap. She conked out without finishing her last bottle, let alone a last ditch effort bowl of oatmeal I usually coax down her throat in an effort to get some shut eye (for all of us). So I expected a wake up call around 3 a.m. begging for some more food. Indeed. The feeding hour rolled around, the yelping ensued. However, after eating, she just wanted to be snuggled. Now, I love me some snuggles, especially from the Belle. But I also love me some sleep. So I let her snuggle for twenty minutes, then after she kicked me in the gut for the fourth time, I decided she could roll around in her bed instead of on me. Well that started a good half hour of screaming at me because really, SHE LOVES HER MAMA. So I slept through my alarm, which usually nudges me out the door to a 5:45 a.m. spinning class. Instead, Belle woke me up at 6:30 a.m., not just to eat but to HANG OUT.

REALLY?

I may or may not have dozed on the couch while she dismantled the family room, easy to do when you're walking/running all over, darting from one "no no" to another. I may or may not know how an entire box of wet wipes ended up on the floor. Shredded.

I may or may not be ready for a nap.