I thought my season for sleepless nights was over. I don't do slumber parties or lock-ins. I don't have to cram for finals. I'm not walking the floor with an infant (or infants :). I have reached the time in my life, or so I thought, when I can be guaranteed sleep!
Then came last night. With as many children as I've had you'd think I'd have had my turn with the croup. Nope. Gabe was the first. I spent hours in a steamy bathroom holding my wheezing (actually stridor-ridden) boy while my head nodded.
How did I ever think staying up all night was 'fun'?