So I had a pants night sleep last night, thanks to having to share a bed with the two biggest bed hogs in the world. It is apparently genetic, because the boy has it too.
Why are we even sleeping with E if we have finally managed to get him out of our room back home and into his big boy crib? Well the Mormons were kind enough to give us a crib in our room this week but it was all of 7 seconds after putting E in the crib that he managed to shove his foot through the 1 1/2 inch space between the rails and turn his leg to an angle from which he could not recover. Derek apparently anticipated this because he requested a room with a king size bed. He could have just asked for a twin because I am still sleeping on the same damn 6 inches of bed that I had a home. E continues to scooch, scooch, scooch across the bed until I am nearly falling off.
He is crying, crying, crying and the only thing that seems to help is when I rub my fingers across his gums and make that squeegee sound you hear as it goes across your windshield when you wash your windshield at the gas station.
So before I sat down to type this (since my $12.95 per day session is scheduled to end in less than 2 hours and I am already paying $45 a day to park the car), I put E into the above mentioned crib so I would not have to worry about him. I heard him whining away behind me but God forbid I turn around to see what is going on.
I should have.
There he was face down with his two chubby legs hanging out the side of the crib.
I am the world's WORST MOTHER.