I’m curled up on the love seat in G’s room, waiting to be sure she’s fallen asleep. I don’t usually do bedtime – that’s all Justin – so I’m less sure of myself around this. And the dog needs his late-night pee walk, and so I need GWC to be asleep so I can do that, because once I do that then *I* can go to sleep.
My lizard brain looks at me, curled into the mound of pillows on the love seat, knitted afghan within arms reach, and says, “you can sleep right here. Right now.” My compassionate brain stares down the lizard and says “dude, the dog has a finite bladder.” The lizard proclaims that dumb, and wonders when we get to lounge on a beach in the hot sun and sleep all day.
The lizard is going to be sorely disappointed, because the best the world has on offer for me is 7 hours of sleep after walking the dog around the yard in jammies and flip flops, because as I was typing this with my thumbs, the Pook fell asleep. Time for walkies.
But me and my lizard brain have a date with a beach, sometime soon. Soonish. Sometime. Later.