So I’m in the middle of writing a new book. And so far, I love it. Every day I can’t wait to start working on it again.

But there’s something keeping me from getting as far as I’d like…. *knock at the door*

*undecipherable mumbling then silent again*

Ok, so where was I?

Oh yeah–the reason I can’t get anything done.

Besides the many interruptions that go on throughout the day, I’m also dealing with lack of sleep. It’s been AT LEAST a week since I slept through the night. Take last night for instance.

I was about to tuck the little ones into their beds when Tommy said, “let them lay down with us for awhile.”

I sighed heavily and said, “fine, but we’re turning off the TV. I’m exhausted.”

He complied.

As I lay next to Ethan I felt and heard him wheezing. His chest was all crackly and he seemed to be working really hard at breathing.

I threw back the covers and said, “you need a breathing treatment.”

After 15 minutes or so, we settled back into bed. Although 4 in a bed isn’t really all that comfortable. I had little kicky feet in my face and back, and at times I was so close to the edge, I had to grip the mattress to keep myself from falling off.

About 12:30, the dogs started barking. Someone had left them outside. I NEVER leave them in the backyard for this very reason. So, again I threw back the covers and let the dogs in. And I gave them a good talking-to about barking when people are trying to sleep. I’m SURE they learned their lesson. Tommy also took this opportunity to go sleep in Ethan’s room. So now, there were only 3 in the bed.

Around 2, Ethan started wheezing and coughing again. So I once again scooped him up and headed to the bathroom.

10 minutes later, we were back in bed.

At 3:30, Ethan woke up screaming, saying “My leg! My leg! It hurts!”

I turned on the light and sure enough Ethan’s right kneecap was swollen. Like really swollen. My first thought? Cancer.

I started freaking out. Which made Ethan freak out. And I knew then what I had to do. I carried Ethan to where Tommy was sleeping and I yelled out, “Tommy! Something’s wrong with Ethan!” He jumped out of bed and said, “What is it? His asthma? Is he not breathing?”

I said, “No! I can handle asthma. What I can’t handle is THIS!”

He rubbed his eyes and took Ethan (who was still screaming) from me. He examined his knee and said, “He probably fell down yesterday and now it’s sore. Give him Motrin.”

Motrin? We don’t need Motrin! We need an oncologist! “Tommy, seriously? You think he’s ok”

Tommy kissed Ethan’s knee and handed him back to me. “Yes. I think he’s fine. Why? What’d you think? That he had cancer?”

He thinks he’s so smart.

After a few more minutes, Ethan stopped crying. I administered the right dosage of Motrin, and we lay back down.

I patted Ethan’s back until he fell asleep. I. Was. Exhausted.

I closed my eyes and began drifting off–finally! When I heard, “Beep-beep.”

I ignored it. It was probably a fluke–a kink in the system.

5 minutes later. “Beep-beep.”

The mother effing smoke alarm!

I ignored it again. Surely it would stop. “Beep-beep.”

Ok. But I could definitely sleep through it. I was THAT tired.

“Beep-beep.”

Or not.

So, to make a long story even longer, I’ll probably finish my new book. Never.

Because everyone hates me. Including animals and inanimate objects.

“Beep-beep.”