I woke up this morning to the little angel bonking me in the head with her cup.  Two nights ago, she woke up at three and I ended up sleeping on her floor until five.  That sucked.  Last night, she woke up at three again. I decided to take her down to the couch, because lately my strategy for conquering her sleep problems has been to make it all about me and my sleep.  Ironically, this strategy has worked better than Ferber or Sears.  I call it "Mine."

She slept pretty well until about five, when she commenced with the head-bonking.  I thought about drop-kicking her across the living room, but I am a nice person and would never do such a thing.  But I did think about it for a millisecond.  I was having a good dream. 

As I walked to the fridge to get her some milk, I noticed that my throat hurt really, really bad and all of my muscles felt as though they were encased in Polly Pockets rubber clothing.  This does not bode well for the rest of the day. I decided not to think about it until I woke up late, asked my beloved why he hadn't woken me up, and he said he'd been yelling for me to wake up for thirty-five minutes.  Hmm.  Didn't hear him.

Today is the little angel's Jog-a-Thon for the Emerald City. I can't make it, because I have a meeting with my new boss at the same time.  I feel bad - it would be soo worth the head-bonking to watch her jog around the school parking lot.  Alas, I'm here at work with a sore throat and Polly Pockets legs and have several Important Meetings That Can't Be Missed.  And a sonogram, because that thing that wasn't supposed to happen at that time this month kept happening for THIRTEEN DAYS.  So, there may be Fun Health News today, as well. We'll see.

I think I'll go find someone I don't like and bonk them on the head with my water bottle now.  I am a big believer in paying it forward.

Gah.