Oh, sleep. How could I have taken you for granted for all those years? For 26 glorious years, I went to sleep when I was tired, woke up when I was rested, and even slept until eight or nine o'clock on Sunday mornings. But did I appreciate those precious hours? Not nearly enough. As Joanie Mitchell puts it, "Don't it always seem to go/that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone." Preach, sister. Something tells me she must have had two small children.
To Isabel's credit, I will say this: she will usually go back to sleep in a matter of minutes. Usually. However...this is not as great as it might seem. Sure, she doesn't conduct screaming parties from 3 to 6 am like some people used to. No, instead she wakes up every hour, just to say "Hey", and by "Hey," I mean, "Heeeelloooo, is anyone awake out there? Can't you hear me crying? No, I don't actually need anything. Just wanted to make sure I'm not all alone in this cold, cruel world. Oh! There you are! Yes, I was calling you. And now that you are up, I was thinking that I might like a snack. Pretty please?" Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh.
Of course, sometimes Iz has been known to sleep for three hours in a row. But Elijah usually helps out in that case, waking up smack dab in the middle of those three hours to ask for a glass of water. Or just to say hey.
I would write more, but my last two remaining brain cells have been exhausted by the first three paragraphs. I think I'll go take a nap now.