when I don't sleep well

Charlie got up to play tennis this morning before the sun rose. He asked if I would mind him taking off to play and because I slept poorly last night and wasn't fully awake, I really thought he was asking if I wanted for him to make Belgian Waffles and bring them to me in bed.

To which I responded "Yes. That would be WONDERFUL."

When I woke up 30 minutes later to several children crying "Come get me!! I go poo-poo, need new diaper!!" I waited for a solid five minutes for the other adult in the house to go do the dirty work before I realized that I was the only adult in the house.

The only feeling that comes close is being thrown in to an ice cold pool.

I got up and dressed the kids, fed the kids, cleaned up and changed what seemed like 12 dirty diapers. All the while, I was thinking that our triplets are going to be three years old in exactly two weeks and I need to get myself in really good shape if I'm ever going to stand a chance at keeping up with them.

I haven't worked out in an eternity and am really starting to look and feel old. It seems like I've aged 10 years in the past two and a half years and another 10 years in the past three months.

Charlie called before coming home to ask if there was anything that we needed from the store. I mentioned that we could use some more diapers and I'd love it if he could bring me home a "little" something sweet.

My husband swung by Target where he purchased five different kinds of diapers. He bought Pull-Ups for girls and Pull-Ups for boys. He also bought night-time diapers in size 5 and size 6 because we've learned that Pull-Ups are not particularly absorbent for a 10-hour stretch. And then he bought size 3 diapers for our little Henry. While Charlie was at Target, he also picked me up a 45-ounce bag of M&M's because he knows that I've had an unrequited sweet craving ever since I've given up ice cream.

And the reason I've given up ice cream is because I'm TRYING to lose weight.

Now as much as women love presents, here's a tip: a 45-ounce bag of M&M's ... which was close to my premature child's birth weight ... is not the best gift for your wife who is feeling motivated to improve her physical health.

If in fact you give her a gift like this, don't be surprised if she pummels you with candy. After she eats a pound hand full. Or two.

While we unloaded supplies, Charlie told me that he bumped in to our neighbor who has a baby 4-weeks younger than Henry and was impressed that their baby is sleeping 10-hours through the night and waking up at 7 AM.

What Charlie says he said was "Isn't it great that their baby, four weeks younger than our son, is sleeping all night?"

What I heard was "Maybe you should stop nursing, because if Henry was on formula, I would finally get a good night sleep."

Even though he swears he didn't say that, and even if he did, he never would have said "I" because he knows that although his wife is awake at night, opening his eyes once when I get out of bed to pick up our hungry child, before he rolls over and falls back to sleep, doesn't constitute, "being awake".

This afternoon, once we had fed the children lunch and put them down for a nap, I settled down to nurse Henry. Charlie sat down on the couch next to me, put his feet up and was searching for the remote control to watch Sunday football, when I casually mentioned that sometimes what we say is not what the other person hears and sometimes, men and women really are different.

What Charlie says he heard me say is "You lazy sack of beans. Why are you sitting on your duff watching football when lunch is still all over the counter? Go clean up and get me my M&M's!"

Oh well. Maybe that is what I said.