I appreciate so much of what you do for me. Some days you keep going long after what sanity would say is reasonable. I really do appreciate it.
That said, we need to talk.
You see, we have a problem.
I understand you are probably just remembering the trauma of a year ago, but enough is enough.
The not allowing me to go to sleep until 11:30-12:30 is not working out.
Waking me up from 3:30-5:00am and not let me go back to sleep is just not where I find my "happy place".
We may have entered the parting of our ways. I'm sorry. It's you, not me.
I love how you snuggle with me. I love your little warm bodies pressed against my side. I even love your cold little feet or hands tucked up to me to warm. I do.
Sweet hearts, I'm not loving the police car with the siren tangled in my hair. It's just not my thing when I'm sleep deprived.
I'm a little grouchy. I'm sorry.
Honey, Princess dolls inches from my face don't bring out the best in me.
Little plastic arms impaling my side, lets forgo that in the future.
You're precious though, truly.
Oh what helps you are!
Yet, not to criticize, but please stop arguing about...say, the color of the sky. I know your perception of the different shades of blue may vary, but please listen. It's really not important who's right on this one.
Mommy may go, oh...I don't know, a touch psychotic the next time you bicker. Lack of sleep does that. Take it up with my body.
Your servant hearts have got me through.
Cooking genius, you know who you are, your love for cooking may have just preserved my sanity.
Yet, luv...I know "the bird is the word". You don't have to tell me. Really...
I love you. Thank you for stepping up to the plate whenever things get rough. I promise "Inga" will eventually go away and my sane personality will return.
I miss you. It's time to forgive and forget. Come Home...I promise, no more fighting.