Worst. Night. Ever.

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First of all, I should mention that Greg sprained his ankle Saturday night. We had gotten home from a visit at his dad and stepmom’s house and he took went outside to unravel Scout’s lead. On his way back to our porch, he stepped in a small hole that either Scout or Brutus had dug and twisted his ankle well enough that there was an egg-size swollen spot on the top of his foot. And that basically meant that he couldn’t do a whole lot Sunday–or Sunday night–other than hobble around.

Last night, for some reason, Miss Zoey woke up around eleven or so and was WIDE AWAKE and refused to go to sleep until around three in the morning. Seriously. At that point I was so wishing for sleep, I would have sold my soul for just a few hours. I just don’t understand what was up with her. It may possibly have been that I told her when she woke up in the morning, she would be able to go see her friend, Charleigh, at Grandma Hoose’s house. Maybe she was too excited like a kid on Christmas Eve? But she was just SO awake.

We even put her in our bed in between Greg and I–a place that always makes her fall right asleep. Not so last night. Not so.

Here’s a list of things Zoey did INSTEAD OF SLEEPING:

Drank five tons of juice from her sippee cup

Tried to make shadow puppets on the wall

Tossed and turned like a wild woman

Worked on counting from five to twelve OUT LOUD

Kept saying ‘Hi’ to Mommy until Mommy finally opened her eyes and acknowledged her

Sang the Fresh Beat Band’s song, “Great Day”–and did the hand movements while laying down

Also, Tilly, our cat, decided last night would be a great time to do a thorough inspection of each of our upstairs rooms (all sounds of which was caught on the baby monitor) and when I went to herd her into our room, Scout had to follow me and ‘help out’ (by help out, I mean he nudged her relentlessly). They both got on the bed and then jumped off and then on and then off and that was around the time that Zoey woke up and decided she might as well stay up until THE WEE HOURS OF THE MORNING.

Greg and I are now convinced our pets, as well as our daughter, are trying to kill us.

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