~Eliza's first birthday party is tomorrow. I have a mile long list of things to do. A long list of things to while Eliza's napping. She's napping now, in fact. Yet, here I sit.
~I'm tired. I love getting creative, decorating for parties. However, I'm lacking serious motivation that was likely stolen from me at 5 am.
~At 5am we all heard a very loud bump in the night. Followed by an equally loud scream from babykins. E whispered to me "Did Eliza just fall out of the crib?" To which I replied "how could she?!?"
~She, in fact, DID fall out of the crib. She seems fine. With all of the adrenaline surging through her little 16 lb body, she did not go back to sleep, as usual, after her morning milk. Which means *I* did not go back to bed, nor did any of the older 3 children.
~Eliza's crib has only one more notch to move down. Is this sleeping arrangement REALLY supposed to last her until she's 3? After last night, I have high doubts that it will.
~When E left for work today, I ran after his van screaming "please don't leave me!!!" Zeke was screaming "I didn't say goodbye" even whilst waving at his daddy. Eliza was death gripping my leg, and the older two kids were fighting over who was getting the napkins.
~I made homemade butterfingers last night. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to combine 3 of my favorite things, (chocolate, candy corn, and peanut butter) and expect some kind of miraculous self control on my part.
~I'm in a funk with running. My last few runs have been blah. I threw up in our yard after my last run, thus motivating me even less than normal.
~Eliza went down for a nap at 7:30.
~I wanted to go down for a nap at 7:30. Or now. I'd take a nap now, too.