If you know anything about my family, you know that they DO. NOT. SLEEP. LATE.
I may be the only mother on the planet looking forward to those teenaged years where you have to get a high-rise crane to raise the offspring from bed.
Zac didn't sleep all night until the night before Jake was born. He was 5 1/2 years old. He's one of those annoying people (like my husband) who can go a million miles an hour, work all day and night, stay up until the wee hours of the morning, sleep a couple of hours and hit the ground running again, mostly with a smile.
Jake is my child. If he's tired, he will sleep. In the car, on the couch, in your lap, it doesn't matter.
It's a little after 10:00 in the morning as I write this. We just had a VEEERRRYYY long weekend in Gueydan, LA at the 7-year old state baseball tournament. So far, we've played 4 games. We have our last one this evening against...du du du DU...Kenner. We have to beat them twice because it's a double-elimination tournament. They beat us on Saturday and advanced to the championship game. We had to play an additional game in the loser's bracket in order to have to play them again, twice!
Anyway, Jake has caught every single inning of these 4 games, but one where we were winning something like 19-1 (that's 23 innings for those of you counting). He is whooped. He's got a mad case of heat rash. He is so hungry that he can't get full. He is tired.
Believe it or not, he's looking forward to tonight's games.