A few days ago I got into my head that the wireless hub for the internet should be turned off. Don't ask me why. I don't remember. But I was standing on a chair, fiddling with the hub, trying to find the power cord so I could unplug it. I was probably muttering foully under my breath, because Clay came over and said the fateful words: "Push that button right there."
For the record here, I did NOT just say "Clay broke the internet." I did not even mean to imply it.
However, the fact is that the button right there was a reset button, erasing our encryption data, breaking the happy links between the wifi and all the many appliances that speak to it daily, and just generally throwing our life into chaos and woe.
Also for the record, Clay fixed it all. And there are apparently seven devices that speak to the internet daily in our house. Remind me not to anger the internet, mkay?
Clay fixed it, although it took many hours and two new encryption codes. Yesterday Max came into my room, his face a mask of pain. "Can you PLEASE ask Dad not to change the access codes every night anymore? Because it's NOT FUN."
No, really? Because we've been having a GREAT TIME.
My point (yes, I have a point) is not about wifi at all. No, I'm thinking about Sophia. She's never been a great sleeper (have I mentioned? the not sleeping?), but this week she's become...a not-sleeping over-achiever.
She wails and fights sleep for two or three hours after her bedtime. She wails and fights sleep for at least an hour and a half in the middle of the night, every night. And then she wakes up early.
And she gave up naps months ago. So. It's not like she can really catch up.
You know how reasonable and level-headed and thoughtful and calm two-year-olds are? Yeah. The only thing that makes that better is vicious levels of sleep deprivation. Last night I was seriously contemplating dosing her with Benadryl, and tonight I can't even think of why I decided it was a bad idea.
Actually, tonight I can barely think anything at all. I am stupid tired, and I have tried four times to finish this sentence coherently.
What I want to know is this: who pushed the baby's damn sleep reset button?