Just so you know, I'm not complaining.

The boys dragged me out of bed before 8 this morning because they wanted to go to church. After all my worrying and fussing about the coercive forces of Sunday School. I did not want to get up. I had just laid down. Or it felt like it. I guess it had been a solid three hours or more.

Last night I made brownies. Obviously I am no longer following the Don't Get Fat Just Because You're Pregnant diet. Instead I'm trying the Eat Every Hour to Avoid Feeling Pukey diet. I made the brownies because UberDad asked for them on Monday, and I was just finally getting around to it. Plus we had impromptu guests for dinner.

So now I must warn you: brownies are suprisingly stinky as puke. But before you empathize with the normal signs of early pregnancy -- it still wasn't my puke. It was Puffer again. Apparently three full-size brownies is one or two too many for a boy whose tummy was just starting to recover from that icky bug he'd caught. He woke up around midnight and made it to the bathroom just in time to let it out all over the towel and dirty clothes that had been left on the floor after bathtime. I was so proud of him for not puking on his bed. Of course, I had just finally fallen asleep when I heard him start coughing. UberDad actually made it to him before me, which NEVER happens.

We got the sleepy child and the bathroom cleaned up, and I only had to lie next to Grouper, who had woken up despite our attempts at puke-secrecy, for another 20 minutes before I could go back to my own bed. As I lay there trying to go to sleep again, I remembered a "humor" post someone had sent to our local homeschooling list, which I had found offensive because of a reference to spanking. And, since I couldn't relax anyhow, decided to get up and groggily write an appropriately self-righteous response to let them know that I don't find child abuse funny. So much for brilliant ideas arrived upon in the middle of the night. Now most of the people we see at Park Day are unlikely to ever speak to me again.

I went back to bed after that, but soon realized it was time for snack. Ate applesauce. Tried again. 3:30 a.m. arrived. Grouper was climbing onto the bed to nurse. Gave him one side, then had to get up for another snack. Ate some string cheese. Tried to go back to sleep, but was too hot between husband and child, plus there was a weird smell in the room I couldn't figure out. So I got up and laid down in Grouper's bed. That's where he found me at 7:30 this morning.

I was SO prepared to sleep in until 9 and skip church. As it was, Grouper didn't want to go into the Sunday School room with Puffer, so he came and sat quietly next to me through the service. NOT. He was okay for a little while, but then his best friend arrived, and the two them did everything they could to entertain themselves and the back three pews, including responding to the sermon with enthusiastic affirmations ala Black Pentecostal congregations.

A little childish noise might not be a problem in some churches. But we attend a VERY conservative Episcopal church where the children come in after the sermon for communion, and parents spend significant energy on shushing even the slightest whispered chatter. Next time Carla and I will have to sit in separate pews, or else leave the boys in Sunday School despite any protests or concern for the potential for great damage to the 3-year-old room.

Now, I'm ready for my nap. But not before I have another snack.