Johnny must not have gotten the memo on Mother's Day. He was up almost all night Saturday, I'm not even exaggerating a little.

He's been having some kind of sleep strike- since about Friday, I guess. He'll wake up crying, I'll sleepwalk down the stairs to rescue him and then remember that I HATE sleeping with him now. He's the opposite of cuddly and gentle, so about an hour after we've started to notcuddle, I walk back upstairs with scratched legs, pulled hair and broken ribs.

Now I'm exaggerating.

T and I were REALLY tired on Sunday, he'd worked until about 2:30 in the ayem, and I'd been up with the night owl for several hours. We had plans to brunch with his mom and BBQ with mine- so there weren't many nap opportunities for the buddy or his parents. I feared that all the notsleeping would result in some kind of yooge, world class meltdown, but we managed to keep our shit together for the most part. T and I almost got in a fight over a bratwurst, but thought better of it. I should think better of posting this photo, but it's the only one I've got to mark the day. Despite using all the tools at Picasa's disposal to blur myself into NOT LOOKING LIKE A MAN, I hate it, predictably.

How did that kid get to be so cute? Let's focus on his cuteness in a little more detail:

I mean, that is some serious cute.