My name is Stacy and...

I'm addicted to sleep.

My kids are trying their hardest to break me of that addiction, but it's so hard.

Some days, it's all I can think about.  I obsess over whether or not I can sneak in a nap, fight the heavy eyes that inevitably arrive around 5pm, and swear every day that this will be the night that I'm going to bed as soon as the kids do.

The cravings  for sleep become especially bad around 5:30 am, when my bright sunny baby boy takes the "break mom from her sleeping habit" shift and keeps me awake until it's time to get ready for the day, at which time Ian gets to go back to bed and the other kids take over.

Nice of Ian to be pulling his weight, right?

Things went especially well last Friday, when Ian's wakeup call came at 5am courtesy of a wet diaper soaked to his armpits.  Once I changed him, he was all kicks and grins.  I groaned, realizing I was done sleeping for the night, and hauled downstairs so the other four people snoring upstairs could continue sleeping in peace.  (And yes, I did shoot daggers at all of them as I went downstairs.) By 6:30, the other kids were stirring and Ian was ready to go back to bed.  All I wanted was to close my eyes for a few minutes.  I told the girls to watch Max and went back upstairs.  Just as I had drifted back into my oh-so-peaceful slumber, I was awoken by the shrieking of the smoke detector.

Do you have any idea how alarming (yes, pun intended,) that is?

Abby had decided to make eggs for breakfast. 

Needless to say, she is no longer allowed to use the stove without an adult present, and our house smelled like burned eggs for the rest of the day.  (Yummy!)

I don't think I've actually slept through the night since somewhere around 2006.   I don't think my poor body knows how to sleep that long anymore.

So like I said, I'm obviously an addict.  If they have a 12 step program, sign me up.  Just think how much I could get done if I didn't have to sleep every day! 

Naps are wasted on the young.  They never appreciate them.