Nat's party is steadily advancing towards me, in spite of nap strikes and wet beds and apathy. I have made, I think, eight play sonic screwdrivers out of sculpey and marbles (Geoff, "It is amazing and also pretty funny that you can do this"), got the fondant for the cake, purchased supplies for making many Rice Krispy squares to make Minecraft blocks from, and have things to feed guests staying late and overnight guests. I still have things to do, but I think it's pretty well under control. I will continue to think this until I notice some huge glaring omission.
Today was not a really winning day. We had a nice visit with Judith this morning, and then came home for day three of the girls' nap strike (didn't sleep at all), while I watched Spiderman with the boys and tried not to bite everyone's heads off too often. I hate it when the girls don't sleep. I get more and more tense and irritable and self-pitying. It doesn't help that I go up to find they've usually taken their diapers off and peed on the floor, or pulled all their clothes out, or something.
They were both in Nuclear Meltdown Stage from exhaustion by just after dinner. Geoff went to the dojo about half an hour after we finished eating, and I did Nat's blood sugar, stuffed them all full of ice cream (which stopped the crying for ten minutes), and then threw them in bed early. I did read a couple of books aloud, including one about sinking and floating. I do wonder how much Nat and Thomas get out of things like that- gravity and buoyancy and density are pretty abstract forces. They chose that book. They must like it.
I am going to take some ibuprofen, drink some wine, and go to bed by eight-thirty. Thomas has been wetting the bed around midnight and needing to be changed and cuddled, and that plus a wake up from Mim and getting up at five are making me really, really tired. So, since Geoff isn't here to distract me frm sleeping by talking to me or watching TV or reading aloud, I will take advantage and crash.
Hoo boy. Tired.