There is a Handsome calling tearfully for Mum-maaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh. When I pick him up to hold him, he puts his head on my shoulder, facing me. Just as I think he's asleep, he picks up his head, plants his lips on my neck, and blows a loud raspberry on me. This continues for a while.

There is a big toe in my bellybutton, when I lay down with Handsome. I cannot escape this toe, complete with an eagle's talon of a nail, because if I move backwards, I will fall off the bed. I cannot move towards the foot of the bed, because I am already scrunched up at the foot of the bed. I cannot move toward the head of the bed, because a leaky bottle made it Lake SoyMilk.

There is no place to go but the floor. And who should decide to fall out of bed onto me, but my Handsome. I try to keep his feet away from my midsection. After falling back asleep, I am awoken by Handsome screaming because most of his body has wiggled under the bed. I situate Handsome in his bed. He will not release my hand until he has pulled my arm to his mouth and blown raspberries on it several times.

There are nightmares, of my daughter sitting in a chair surrounded by poisonous snakes, and I cannot get her to sit still so she will not be bitten. There is a nightmare that someone took my son. I wake up, in a cold sweat, on the floor, drool smeared all over my face.

There is a Bubba who wakes me up to tell me that she doesn't want to flush the toilet because it'll wake everyone up. She says this in a loud, clear voice. Yeah, it's the toilet that'll wake everyone up.

There is the obnoxiously loud chainsaw imitation coming from my husband's mouth and throat. It's like trying to sleep in the forest they are chopping down to make into stupid wooden roosters or paper for the multitude of unwanted credit card and carpet cleaning offers I get in the mail. If I happen to fall asleep while listening to the snoring, I get awoken by the super-snore, one so loud it is like fireworks exploding ten inches from my head.

There is a sweet little Handsome who wakes up in the morning and goes to the door like a dog needing to pee. "Come on guys, let me out, let me OUT! I gotta go, I gotta GO!"

There is a Bubba who comes in on her father's prodding, and tells me to "Wake your booty up!" and turns on all the lights.

And, I decided, there will soon be a puppy who will need to go outside and make my yard look like a minefield. Bubba already chose the name, Kelly. Doesn't matter if Kelly is a boy or girl, it'll be called Kelly. We just need to pick out the little floor duster from a breeder (no shelters around here seem to have a Shih Tzu puppy).