TWENTY SEVEN TIMES.
TWENTY SEVEN trips up the hallway to return Frog to bed, after feeding bathing and sending her off at 6:30pm.
TWENTY SEVEN patience cracking, mind numbing attempts to get her to listen to those simple words "It's bedtime".
I have done precisely no housework, no washing, no dishes.
And I'm exhausted but I can't sleep.
Will this child ever let me dig my eyes out from the pits they have sunk into over the past few months?
Will I ever have my evenings back?
Will I ever kick this damn "Bedtime" record off vocal chords.
I really hope so.
If not I'd like to see the nice nurse with the kind smile and the sedatives please.
