I was worried that we’d get a call from daycare. There’s a kick out provisions that mentions that the kids must be capable of keeping up with the usual activities. No calls came in and no one said anything to Ken when he picked Reid up. It was a definite working mom guilt situation.
We got Reid bathed and into her room a bit early. When I told her that it was time to give good night kisses, she declared that she wasn’t tired. She sobbed as I told her that I would read one story. “I’m not tired,” she cried, too tired to understand that the fact that one story was worthy of tears proved I was correct. We both slept 11 hours. What a difference sleep makes, eh?