4:32 AM: wake up with a start to Son sobbing from his room. Launch self out of bed to make sure that the child is not in mortal danger. Calm down, tuck back in, back into bed.
4:48 AM: Son is crying again. Kick Husband in shins and tell him that it's his turn. He tries to weasel out of it, keep kicking until he gets his ass out of bed.
4:52 AM: Son is crying again. I get up and bring him into bed with us, with a small glimmer of hope that maybe he will sleep. He had a horrid nightmare, the same recurring one that seems to show up when he is stressed (we've been hitting potty training pretty hard lately).
5:05 AM: Husband gets up for the day.
[insert five minute stretches of nap between squirms from Son, who can make a King bed feel small]
5:45 AM: Alarm
5:53 AM: Alarm after vicious snooze activation
6:11 AM: Wake up after alarm was turned off. Son is finally asleep, so I slip out of bed to get my day going, since it isn't going to wait for me.
6:22 AM: Son wakes up alone in our bed and loses it. He is honestly terrified and scared, so the point of what almost resembles an anxiety attack.
8:50 AM: Finally get into the car to go to work. It has been a loooooong morning.
9:10 AM: Son vomits all over himself and the carseat no more than five minutes from daycare. The menu? Goldfish and grapes.
9:50 AM: Arrive at work at new location (more on that when I can find some time to breathe), exchange Son with Husband, who will stay home with him that day. Extract stinky carseat from my vehicle, to avoid it fermenting in my dark colored car on a 80+ degree day.
10:10 AM Finally get into my office.
Am I having fun yet?