Norah woke up at either 2 or 4 this morning, I can't remember which. Then she woke up again at 7:30 and was totally unwilling to lay in bed and peacefully drift off to sleep. Instead she wanted to get up, and she made that known by her hysterical screaming, screaming that would only stop when I either held her or put her on the floor so she could talk to the ceiling fan.
Since Norah's birth I have been compiling a list of things that are acceptable to do as a baby that would never be acceptable to do as an adult. For instance, when you are a baby it is entirely acceptable to leave the house without any pants. Just last week I took Norah to WalMart and she was only wearing a onesie and her bunny slippers. If I tried to go to WalMart in a crotch snap leotard and my puppy slippers I would probably be arrested or make small children cry, or both. It is also acceptable for babies to poop while eating. For an adult to do that it would require either pooping at the table or eating on the toilet, neither are good choices. Added to this list is talking to the ceiling fan. For a baby this behavior is endearing, making mamas run to find their phones in order to record the babbling. For an adult this behavior could land you in a psych ward faster than you can say 'delusional'.
So, as I was saying before I interrupted myself, Norah woke this morning at 7:30, ready to play. Who is ready to play at 7:30 in the morning? NOT MAMA! I am rarely awake this early, so I rarely see Rusty before he goes to work, except in that bleary second it takes me to tell him goodbye. But this morning I was awake. He came out of the bedroom in his lizard boxers, the ones I bought for our honeymoon, and asked me if I had seen his cargo pants. I squirmed a bit inside because yesterday I was ambitious and thought I would do some laundry, which means I did three loads. One was in the basket, one was in the dryer and one was still in the washer. Guess which load his pants were in? So I told him I had washed them and forgotten to dry them and he said it was fine he would just wear something else. A few minutes later he came back out of the room, still in his lizard boxers and asked me where his jeans were. Guess where they were? At this point I started to worry for him so I asked what he was going to wear to work since his wife had washed all his pants and dried not a single pair, to which he replied "Umm...lizard boxers?"
Ha! That man is funny in the morning. Maybe I should wake up early more often?