I’ve tried to go to bed twice already, but that damn green tea is not letting me sleep.  I forget that it has caffeine, since it looks and tastes so herbally.

I know I’ll pay tomorrow, but for now it’s fun to catch up on blogs, eat on the couch (which is against the rule I made for the kids and also totally after the eating cut-off time, but it’s a rice bread and hummus sandwich that gave me hiccups, so does that even count?), and listen to the quiet.  Qui  et.  Well, quiet except for the snoring of the the sick kids down the hall.  It sounds like lumberjack housing down there. 

These hiccups are kicking my ass.  Started at 12:03 am, just in case they last for weeks and I need that information for my fifteen minutes of Guiness fame or something.

What do you do when you can’t sleep?  I remember when I was ten or twelve and my mom was pregnant and had awful insomnia.  One night she painted the kitchen.  Another time she made jam.  Her friend Bonnie used to garden in the middle of the night, unless I’m confusing her with Michael Stipe.  I didn’t do much tonight; just made the kids’ lunches for tomorrow and clicked around the internet.

Tomorrow I am going to work in Sophie’s kindergarten class for a couple of hours with Willow in tow.  This is a fairly new thing, and I thought Willow would be fine.  She gets sorta clingy, though, and whines and wants to be on my lap.  In the meantime, other kids are trying to befriend her, and Sophie gets all up in their grill, "Do NOT hold my sister’s hand.  She is MY SISTER, NOT YOUR SISTER."  Then we have to have one of those talks about how to treat our friends and Sophie gets pissed at me for not taking her side.  She is never wrong, which is funny because neither am I though sometimes we are on opposite sides.  Hmmm.

This past weekend I went up to Eye-key-A and got the girls a bunkbed, which I thought was unwise, but they insisted was the Best Thing Ever.  My friend Matt came with me and John stayed home with the kids.  I saw people at Eye-key-A with children, which shocked me.  The best was this beleaguered guy with two kids on a flat cart thing who was a decent way through the very long Saturday afternoon lines.  His buddy came up to him and said, "Dude.  You have to get out of line.  She wants to look at more stuff."  I felt so bad for him.  I could see all the cuss words moving around behind his lips, and a few leaked out his ears as his eyes nearly fell out onto the floor.  He didn’t say anything, just rolled the cart with the two rambunctious boys back to the showroom.  Poor guy.

I spent two dollars and forty three cents less than my absolute maximum (and since I didn’t really add as we went, that was good) and all the stuff fit in the van.  I knew from the get go that the girls would not rest until the beds were made.  I cooked supper while Matt built the beds and John wrangled the kids.  Just as I suspected, I ended up sleeping between the girls on the bottom bunk.  It’s only a twin, so it was a little bit tight.  Good thing I’m so short.  The next night, we got into bed and cuddled up.  We were all three staring at the slats above our heads.  "I’m not gonna sleep up there for awhile," said Sophie.  "I am done with bunk beds," said Willow.  "OH WELL," said I.  I had wanted to get them a double bed, because I knew that they’d still want to sleep together with me in the middle, but I didn’t listen to my gut, which is now sandwiched between two snoring, kicking girls every night.  But, before I know it, they won’t want me at night anymore and I will miss the whole sardine nighttime routine.  Someday.

Now I suppose I’ll try again with the sleep thing.  The internet will be here in the morning.