Hush Little Baby

Jack had the privilege of performing what I think was his most-utterly-exhausted-melt-down this morning. It was a doozy (something about my insistence not to shoplift a plane set him off. Sticky fingers.). I felt so badly for him because it was one of those drippy eyes/nose/mouth sobbing fits of sadness that you just know he couldn't do anything about once it got started. You also know these little fits are rooted in sleepiness when all that dripping and hiccuping is happening and he is insisting he isn't tired -- when no one even suggested that this was rooted in a lack of sleep (or didn't out loud, anyway. It's like he read my mind!). Maybe he figured he'd preempt my suggestion that maybe this was the cause. Okay, brother, just go with that. Let's be honest here... I also felt badly for myself because carrying a 40+ lb wet noodle out of a store isn't really all it's cracked up to be. Other than that, though, those meltdowns don't really bother me. I don't much care what looks I get from other people because anyone who thinks he or she hasn't gone through the same thing at some point with his or her own kids are shoplifting something other than a plastic plane... Forty three seconds after getting home, he was out cold and is still sleeping hours later. And there is nothing like a sleeping munchkin to smooth out the bumps. No, no, not because it's quiet and there aren't matchbox cars, toy trains, and Playmobil being spread around underfoot, but because they are just peaceful and still and serene. It's a small piece of magic parked right in your own house. 

Speaking of peacefully sleeping, I don't know how someone sleeps well on the a) the hard floor or b) near the stairs. Don't worry, she just falls asleep here sometimes and we bring her back to bed. Still! Why?!