And my husband.
Every morning, we wake up exhausted and regretting how late we stayed up the night before. We whine and complain about our poor choices in regards to sleep. We go about our day yawning and trying not to nod off during conversations with various people, lectures and phone conversations.
At 1800hrs we start bedtime routine with our children. We are adamant about their routine, they NEED THEIR SLEEP. By 1930 they're usually both in bed. Sometimes Thumbelina is a little later but for the most part we get them to bed on time.
We finally get them asleep and then collapse on to the couch. Dinner? Yes, dinner. Maybe a little Netflix? Sure. An episode re-run of 3rd Rock might be nice.
15 episodes later [gross exaggeration] we realise it's 0100hrs and we have to be awake in three hours with Skippy. Oh.joy.
We look at each other wondering why we're so dumb, vowing to be smarter the following night.
It never happens. *sigh*
I guess we'll sleep when they're older.
