Ugh, every morning this week seems to start earlier than the last. We've been staying up until midnight or later every night—me frantically working to try to meet a book deadline for Dopey, and M.H. trying to coach D into a more respectable math grade. Then the birds outside have been waking me up around 6 a.m., and I'm finding it's too hot and/or bright at that hour to go back to sleep. And it's only May.
Today's wake-up call was at 5 a.m., when Mik knocked on our door to tells us he'd thrown up in his bed.
I'm not as much of a basket case as you would expect after all this (since I don't traditionally function well on much less than nine hours of sleep). But the plan is to work diligently today, get the book done, and get to bed early. Then tomorrow I'll start dealing with the challenges of the weekend, which, assuming our sickie actually has the strength for it, is supposed to include a swim meet.
Good luck!...
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