This morning my better half and I slept in.  We have the most comfortable bed in the whole world (gloat, gloat.)  I heard the two kids giggling and playing who-knows-what-game in the baby’s crib.  Yup, Jimmy’s toddler bed is at the foot of Lily’s crib, and every morning for the past few weeks, he likes to climb from the headboard edge, right over the rail, into his sister’s bed, making the total weight on the crib springs about 54 pounds.  I have been too tired to fight it, and too lost for words…”Don’t…not for you…you’ll hurt her…you’re too big.”  He just looks at me like I’m speaking Pig Latin.

So, this morning.  When I stumbled into their room, bleary-eyed, Lily reached out her arms and exclaimed, “Haaaahh-Yiii.”  I picked her up and coaxed bigger kid to get out all by himself.  The diaper change could wait a couple minutes.  Out to the kitchen.

“Mommy, I want to eat and watch.”  So succinct.  “Mommy.  Mommy, I want Galona.”  He says the word again, carefully enunciating.  Galona.

“Oh, you mean granola.”

“Yes, it’s my favorite.  Galona, galona.  With milk, Mommy.  Milk!  And Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  No, don’t turn on the TV first, I want to eat.  Eeeeeeat, now.”  Oh, dear God.

I think, before Husband and I realized that it was already 7:55 and we were all late for school/work, we had pleaded, four times, “Please STOP WHINING.  Please, the whining is awful, Jim.”  It was like a harmony of two instruments, wistfully playing a tune of deep pain, but both with the same phrase.  “Stop whining.”

Tomorrow is Saturday.  Remember when we used to sleep in until past 10:00?  Shoot, even past noon, if it was college?  I always laugh when friends post of facebook about final exam week. 🙂  For me, finals week stress/fatigue is pretty run of the mill.