I went to bed at 10, and…

I went to bed at 10, and got up at 6. This should mean that I'm well-rested and eager to tackle the day, right? No. Because somewhere around midnight, I woke to a strange and permeating smell, something like plastic burning, and heard little Kavi noises. No sign of Kevin, so I ended up getting up, going to the head of the stairs and calling down to him. He said he was just cleaning the grill, and he'd come deal with Kavi in a minute, and I was too groggy to ask more. Back to bed.

Then, some unspecified time later, but deep in the depths of the night, a cold and insistent knee in my back. What? I tell him, indignantly, that he can't have more room -- that I'm already on just a third of the bed. He says that it must be Ellie taking up space, because he doesn't have enough room. I say tough, I'm not giving up anymore, so he'd better move Ellie. He groans, but does lift the dog and move her down to the foot of the bed. Sometimes, she sneaks her way up to lie between us, which I'm okay with in theory, but not if it's going to lead to Kevin shoving me off the bed. I crankily fell back asleep, and when baby woke me at 6, stumbled out of bed.

Which leaves us where we are -- tired, cranky, with a fretty baby who probably should have slept longer too but refused to. Just trying to make it through to nine a.m., when Jarmila comes and takes over. Maybe I'll be able to go back to sleep for a bit then. Seems unlikely though. Dammit.

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