Eighteen hours can make quite a difference.
A month ago I went to bed on a Monday with a sinus infection thinking that the worst thing I would have to do that week was get up early the next day and drag my ailing body to work. Eighteen hours later I was calling my husband to tell him that my job no longer existed.
A little over two years ago we were at a lovely restaurant in Kansas with Dan, Vivian, Steve and a very pregnant and radiant Mel. In the space of eighteen hours we went from chatting over steaks to holding a very tiny newborn Ginny. We went from strangers who were becoming friends to family. Bonded forever by Ginny.
Yesterday we had another eighteen hour transition. Not nearly so earth shaking, but very very much appreciated.
First some background.
Lately Ginny has been cranky. Actually cranky doesn’t really begin to describe it. It seemed no matter what we did, she would lose patience far too quickly, throw temper tantrums and in general was being a real beast. Now before anyone says “but she’s only 2 years old” Yes. I know that. I am talking about an increase in the number of tantrums and a HUGE step up in the speed at which she will go from happy to furious. And nothing we did had any effect.
We were baffled.
Yesterday we put her down for a nap at 4 in the afternoon.
and, are you ready for this? she slept for EIGHTEEN SOLID HOURS.
Yes. you heard me.
We checked on her numerous times, convinced that something had to be wrong, but she was fine. Just very very much asleep.
and then this morning came.
Ginny woke up positively angelic. Cute, smiley, happy, reasonable and loving.
Sleep therapy. I wonder if it would work on politicians?